Mystery

A Thorn Among the Lilies (Alvin, Alabama, Book 3) by Michael Hiebert

By Michael Hiebert

In Michael Hiebert’s haunting and strong novel, a long-ago tragedy echoes via small-town Alabama as one girl attempts to trace down a serial killer.

Detective Leah Teal is aware of many of the secrets and techniques in her native land of Alvin, yet there are regularly surprises on hand. just like the day she consents to take her daughter, Caroline, to determine a psychic for a analyzing. The psychic hones in on Leah in its place, hinting at a string of grotesque killings and insisting that she intrude to avoid extra deaths.

When you go searching for difficulty, you by no means know the way a lot you’ll locate. yes sufficient, the psychic’s scant clues lead Leah to a chilly case from six years in the past, whilst a tender girl used to be discovered shot to demise, her eyelids sewn close. As Leah digs deeper into previous documents, a moment unsolved case surfaces with a similar grisly development. whereas her wise younger son, Abe, observes from the sidelines, Leah races to avoid one other awful homicide, ignorant of simply how deep the roots of evil can go.

Taut, suspenseful, and wealthy in Southern surroundings, A Thorn one of the Lilies is a enchanting novel of loss and vengeance, and the lengths a few will visit out of loyalty and love.

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Extra resources for A Thorn Among the Lilies (Alvin, Alabama, Book 3)

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Come back, okay? I See you, darling. " Bridget took back my cellphone, passed me my night-bag and watched me while I checked its contents: socks, handkerchiefs, shirts, underpants, a sponge-bag, one grey pullover with V-neck. " about contact lenses? I shook my head. she murmured suggestively. " "Well, off you both go then," Mr. Anderson declared, and if he had raised his right hand and bestowed one of Brother Michael's floppy blessings on us, I would not have been surprised. 4 It is frankly a conundrum to me, observing these events from where I sit today, that as I followed Bridget down the stairs and back onto the pavement of South Audley Street, attired as I was in the garb of a secondary-school master up from the country, and with nothing to attach me to the world except a bunch of bogus business cards and the assurance that I was about to endure unfamiliar perils, I should have counted myself the most blessed fellow in London that night, if not the whole of England, the most intrepid patriot and secret servant, but such was indeed the case.

Confessor in Hannah's absence? Appoint her my substitute Unveil to her how, until I met Penelope, I was a twenty-three-year-old closet virgin, a dandy in my personal appearance but, underneath my carefully constructed facade, saddled with enough hang-ups to fill a walk-in cupboard? that Brother Michael's attentions and Pere Andre's before him had left me in a sexual twilight from which I feared to emerge? that my dear late father's guilt regarding his explosion of the senses had transferred itself wholesale and without deductions to his son?

Nothing really, sir. " At which he gave a raucous laugh and clapped a bulletproof hand on my shoulder. "You were first rate. your bag? Front desk. Scared the shit out of him. Got a bag? " With barely a wave for the distinguished company he hurried me through the throng to the lobby, where a blond boy stood proffering my night-bag. A people-carrier with blackened windows and open doors was parked at the kerb side a blue light turning on its roof, plainclothes driver at the wheel. man with a crew-cut hovered on the pavement.

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