GENRE: Medical thriller
WORD COUNT: 79,000 words
Blood spills all the time in the ER--but usually not the doctor's.
Someone is murdering the female physicians of Indianapolis. It becomes personal for emergency room newbie Brett Powell when one of her best friends from medical school is brought in, near death. Melanie has an abdominal wound that suspiciously mimics a skilled surgeon’s work. When Melanie dies, Brett buries her grief and begins investigating the other victims. Determined, she points out the medical wounds to Detective Frank Henderson, providing the angle he desperately needs to solve the case. And he’d better hurry, or Brett may become the next candidate for a toe tag.
I attended the SEAK Fiction Writing for Physicians conference in 2010 and am a member of International Thriller Writers. I attended CraftFest at ThrillerFest 2011, and completed the Standford Continuing Studies online course Writing the Great Debut.
The woman lay stretched naked on the horizontal old barn door, arms tied out from her tiny body, crucifixion-style. He ran his hand down the planks of the wood, and taped her head to the rough, splintered boards. Her long dark hair coiled beneath her head.
A clear plastic tube snaked down her throat and into her lungs. It fogged with each breath. He allowed himself a swell of pride. He had intubated her well.
She struggled against her bonds. Spotlights hung in the corners, beams focused on the woman. Pure light fought back the darkness of the shadows.
Her scrubs lay piled in the corner, white coat crumpled on top. The young man bent over the coat and plucked a pin from the lapel. The diamonds created the shape of a bone. He grinned as he removed the pin, watching it sparkle. It belonged to him now.
Pocketing the pin, he moved over to a plain cardboard box atop a small wooden table surrounded by surgical equipment. He lifted out a squat brown bottle and a scalpel. For a moment he let his eyes trace the length of the blade. The light caught the edge. Slipping a surgical mask over his mouth and nose, he walked across the dirty concrete floor to the woman. Panic bulged her eyes. She screamed against the cylinder placed between her vocal cords in her throat. No sound emerged.