Savage Art (A Chilling Suspense Novel) - Plot & Excerpts
Pulling down the ski hat, he moved into the shadows of the tall trees and down the slope of Casey's yard. He peered into her bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her sleeping. But the shades were carefully drawn. Disappointment stirred in his chest, but he cast it aside. A wasted emotion. He would see her soon—and so much closer. Billy had made that all possible. The attraction, the hospital meeting, perfectly choreographed, perfectly planned. He could play the part of the lover, the palm reader. And his disguises were the best—even his "lover" wouldn't know him if he saw him now. He had always had a sense of people's destinies, especially those close to him. And no one knew Casey's hands like he did. He paused to savor the richness of the excitement stirring his blood at the thought of touching Casey's hands again—the hands he had sculpted himself. So soon. It was coming so soon. He rubbed himself against the hard surface of Casey's house and then pushed himself back to the task at hand.
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