Book Tour Of The Holiday Killer By Holly Hunt


Date Published: December 7, 2015

Happy Holidays…

Around the world, Christmas Eve is a time of joy, hope and new beginnings, where children open presents, parents smile, and all is right with the world.

Except in Matryville.
Holidays are dreaded, rather than anticipated. A killer is on the loose, and he strikes as parents hide their kids, fearing the bogeyman’s wrath…
Liz Rhodes, Special Detective at
the Matryville Central Police Department, is heading the investigation of the Holiday Killer. She’s close on his tail, a suspect in her grasp…
… and then her son is taken.
Will Liz be able to track down the Killer before it’s too late? Or will Jamie pay the price for her arrogance? Only time will tell...


She didn't hear the woman's words, her own statement was so loud in her head. He's taken Jamie, he's taken Jamie… She sank to her knees, clutching at her phone. Her training didn't cover this, her disaster management skills couldn't help her cope with the fact that a madman had her only son. She shook, but made no sound, and otherwise didn't move.
"What do we do?" Phil asked her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Liz, what do we do?"
Liz was stumped, her thoughts caught in loop. She climbed slowly to her feet and led Phil down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she poured them tea and paced, ignoring her own slowly cooling cup as she anxiously awaited her peers, who should be barging through the door at any moment.
He's been in my house! If I ever get hold of him, I'm going to rip him apart! If he touches a hair on Jamie's head, I will never rest until I find and gut the bastard.
Goddamnit, why didn't I have extra protection on him? It's Christmas Eve, for god's sake! What was I thinking? I should have dropped the case when he made his first threat, I never should have put my family in danger…
Oh, God, think, girl, think! There has to be a connection somewhere, something to tell me where Jamie is! Think, damn you, think, think!
"For God's sake, will you sit down? You're driving me up the wall."
She sat down opposite him, nursing her cup, but drinking none of the tea. Her leg bounced, knocking the underside of the table with every jump.
Where haven't we looked? The docklands? The marshes? The old courthouse on the far side of town? The vacant lot on Lowrig Boulevard? What do they have in common? Where could he be hiding? Goddamn it, think!
"Jesus, I can't stand this. I'll be in the living room."
Liz watched Phil abandon his tea and walk out to slump down on the couch with his head in his hands. She sat still for a few seconds.
Screw this!
Phil said the man used her minivan to pick Jamie up. So that was her first stop.
She flicked on the light in the garage, and was surprised to find the minivan still sitting on the concrete, the wheels a little wet, as though it had recently been taken out. The floor was dry, though, so she reasoned that it had been out earlier in the day—the concrete dried a lot faster than the rubber.
How the hell did he get it out? she wondered, then looked at the lock on the garage door. She went to touch the lock, but pulled her hand back sharply. Mustn't contaminate.
She shut the door carefully, returning to the living room and looking to Jamie's room at the top of the stairs.
Without another word, she climbed the stairs, heading for the room, pulling on a pair of gloves as she went. But she stopped at the landing. She couldn't trust herself in there right now. She might throw herself on Jamie's bed and demand that he be returned from thin air, or she might throw something across the room in anger.
She felt ill with both guilt and anger, and could feel her heart breaking. Tears boiled up her throat, sitting behind her eyes, but she pushed them down, knowing that she had work to do. She didn't know how long they had until the Holiday Killer killed Jamie, but it couldn't be long. She had to find him, now, or face the idea that she could have stopped him, could have saved Jamie, if only she hadn't gotten emotional.
She stepped back down a couple of steps, then halted and looked back at his room. Climbing a step back up, she stopped again, and closed her eyes. She didn't know what to do—whether to go sit down at the table again, or sit in the living room with Phil, or examine Jamie's room, or…
Hell, she might just shoot someone to break the tension in her shoulders.
The knock on the front door broke her from her spiraling thoughts. She snapped out of her indecisiveness and hurried down the stairs, beating Phil to the front door. She gestured the forensics team and a couple of detectives into her home, wordlessly pointing to Jamie's room before vanishing into the kitchen.
"Liz," Sergeant Donhowi said gently, joining her for tea. "I've had to make a decision this afternoon. You've been removed from the Holiday Killer case and, effective immediately, you're on stress leave, on full pay, until the situation is resolved. One way or another."
"You can't remove me from this," Liz protested half-heartedly, looking her father-in-law in the eye. "Not without making yourself a target. You're giving him exactly what he wants! He won't just stop at me—"
"Which is why I'm standing down as well, Liz. There's too much conflict of interest. Orders are to treat you like any other potential witness, to drill you the same way you drilled the others."
"And what are you doing about my missing son?" she asked. "If you take me off this case, then there's no one who can solve it. And we need to solve it, Bill, before your grandson turns up in a gutter or hanging off a building somewhere."
"Believe me, Liz, I know," the man said, trying to calm her down. "He means just as much to me as he does to you."
The glass in Liz's hand shattered in her tight grip, and she swore, throwing the remains of the glass in the bin and cleaning her bleeding hand. "This needs stitches," she muttered to no one. "I'm going to the hospital."
"Not alone. Marcus and Mal are going with you. I don't want you doing something stupid."
"I don't need an escort, Bill. I'm just going to the emergency room, and it's not like you don't know where I live." Irritation made her face grow warm. "I'm a goddamn cop, suspension or not. It's not like you can't trust me. I'm just going to the hospital to get this fixed, alright?"
Bill huffed, looking her in the eye. "Fine. Make sure you're back within the hour. Use your badge to cut the queue."
Liz gave him a sarcastic salute and pulled on her coat, squeezing the towel in her hand. "Yessir, Sarge."
She felt his eyes on her back as she left, and ignored Phil's sobs as his father muttered comforting things between barking orders to the police team around him.
"Don't forget to tell them to check the minivan!" she called out to her father-in-law. "It's in the garage. No one's touched it. And don't leave a mess!" The door slammed after her.
She waited outside, hiding in the shadows, and watched. A younger cop slipped out of the house, heading for his cruiser, and she scowled. She was going to find her son tonight if she had to search every building in the city.
And I'll be damned if a rookie is going to stop me, Bill.

Author Bio:

Butcher by day, author by night, Holly spends her days off writing, playing in her garden and watching superhero cartoons. Holly lives with her husband Matthew and her cat Talia al-Kitty in a two-bedroom flat crammed with comics, video games, books and movie memorabilia. An active cosplayer, Holly and Matthew take time out of their days to entertain kids as various DC comics characters, and make their own costumes (when Real Life allows).

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  1. This sounds very intriguing. Thank you for the excerpt.

    1. Fee, you are more than welcome. That's what can sell a book is a good Excerpt from it. Thank you for the comment as well. I hope you have a wonderful day :-)

      God bless,


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