A Deeper Darkness (A Samantha Owens Novel), by J.T. Ellison
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A Deeper Darkness (A Samantha Owens Novel), by J.T. Ellison
Free Ebook PDF A Deeper Darkness (A Samantha Owens Novel), by J.T. Ellison
"WHAT LIES BEHIND grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go. Ellison is a great talent—enjoy." —Catherine Coulter, # 1 New York Times bestselling author
Revisit book one in J.T. Ellison's heart-racing Sam Owens series…
As a medical examiner, Samantha Owens knows her job is to make sense of death. But the day the Tennessee floods took her husband and children, she has been pulled into a suffocating grief no amount of workaholic ardor can penetrate—until she receives a peculiar call from Washington, D.C.
On the other end of the line is an old boyfriend's mother, asking Sam to do a second autopsy on her son. Eddie Donovan is officially the victim of a vicious carjacking, but under Sam's sharp eye the forensics tell a darker story. The ex-Ranger was murdered, though not for his car. Forced to confront the burning memories and feelings about yet another loved one killed brutally, Sam loses herself in the mystery contained within Donovan's old notes. The tale told between the lines makes it clear that nobody's hands are clean, and that making sense of murder sometimes means putting yourself in the crosshairs of death.
Previously Published.
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"Shocking suspense, compelling characters and fascinating forensic details." —Lisa Gardner, # 1 New York Times bestselling author
"A terrific thriller…fans of forensic mysteries, such as those by Patricia Cornwell, should immediately add this series to their A-lists." —Booklist
A Deeper Darkness (A Samantha Owens Novel), by J.T. Ellison - Amazon Sales Rank: #59186 in eBooks
- Published on: 2015-10-19
- Released on: 2015-10-19
- Format: Kindle eBook
A Deeper Darkness (A Samantha Owens Novel), by J.T. Ellison Review "A DEEPER DARKNESS is not only a compelling thriller but a multilayered meditation on grief and loss. Dr. Samantha Owens is a forensic investigator with heart and soul and this is the start of a most promising new series for rising star JT Ellison."-New York Times bestselling author Jeff Abbot"Fans of intelligently written, intricately crafted thrillers should definitely check out J.T. Ellison's latest Taylor Jackson novel, 14. Fusing gritty cop drama with dark psychological thriller, Ellison distinguishes herself with exceptional character development, consistently breakneck pacing and a sense of authenticity throughout."-Chicago Tribune"Mystery fiction has a new name to watch."-John Connolly"Ellison gets her Hitchcock on...just plain messing with her characters' heads until the superbly explosive end. Not to be missed!" –Lisa Gardner on Where All the Dead Lie"Combines The Silence of the Lambs with The Wire."-January Magazine on The Cold Room"What J.T. Ellison has done with the city in her award-winning Taylor Jackson books is magnificent... Lovers of mystery and suspense fiction could not ask for more."-Bookreporter"Outstanding... The police procedural details never get in the way of the potent characterization and clever plotting, and Ellison systematically cranks up the intensity all the way to the riveting ending."-Publishers Weekly, starred review on The Immortals"Darkly compelling and thoroughly chilling, with rich characterization and a well-layered plot, All the Pretty Girls is everything a great crime thriller should be."-Allison Brennan
About the Author J.T. Ellison is the bestselling author of the critically acclaimed Taylor Jackson series, including All The Pretty Girls, 14, Judas Kiss and The Cold Room. She is the bi-monthly Friday columnist at the Anthony Award nominated blog Murderati, and was named "Best Mystery/Thriller Writer of 2008" by the Nashville Scene.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Washington, D.C. Edward DonovanEddie Donovan didn't like crowds. Crowds were unpredictable, dangerous. Crowds held a multitude of malcontents, any one of which could be the death of him, in the most literal way. He was surrounded by people, and sweating. Despite the aviator-style Ray-Bans perched on his nose, the sun shone brightly in his eyes, making it even harder to see. Even in his car he felt unsafe.Donovan, formerly Major Edward Donovan, 75th Ranger Regiment, couldn't help himself. He scanned the pedestrians incessantly as he looked for a place to park. Susan said she'd meet him at the carousel behind the Smithsonian and they'd walk the girls over to the Tidal Basin together. He'd thought it better for her to get off at the Smithsonian Metro stop and cut through the back streets, where there would be fewer people, but she'd insisted. The day was fine, spring sun yellow and sharp, and she wanted the exercise. The girls needed it too—the more they got during the day, the easier it was to put them down at night.He was running late. He finally found a spot on Seventh. He pulled in, dropped a handful of quarters into the meter, and took off at a jog, down the Mall, away from the Capitol.They weren't alone in their planned endeavor. It seemed every family in the Washington metro area, plus oodles of tourists, had decided to meet on the Mall and walk down to the Tidal Basin to see the cherry blossoms together. There were hundreds ofjolly people milling about.Police ringed Independence Avenue, wary and watchful. Despite the beautiful day, terror threats were always paramount in law enforcement's mind, especially when it came to large gatherings. Just plain common sense was needed. But for a former Ranger, the authorities' lack of common sense was teeth-grindingly aggravating. As he moved swiftly through the crowds, Donovan spotted at least five points of ingress, holes in the watch. Of course, this was his world now, his job. He was a civilian in clothing only—his mandate was to protect. Only his paychecks were printed and signed by multinational corporations instead of the U.S. government.The Gothic spires of the Smithsonian appeared to his left, and the music of the carousel floated to his ears. He spotted Susan, her blond hair up in a ponytail under a Redskins baseball cap, matching aviator Ray-Bans on her face. She looked like an incognito movie star, daintily lean and trim, and for the hundredth time he congratulated himself on landing her. She was the daughter of his former mentor, the man who'd shown him how to be a soldier. A good man now rotting under a white stone at Arlington, lost not to battle, but cancer, like too many others who'd served in Vietnam and Korea. The last thing Stewart had asked was for Donovan to take care of his little girl, a mission Donovan was only too happy to undertake.Susan spied him and a smile spread across her face. Alina and Victoria—Ally and Vicky—were attached to either end of Susan's arms like limpets, dragging her forward. He smiled in return and crossed the remaining few feet to them, grabbing the baby, Vicky, by the waist and swinging her up onto his shoulders. The five-year-old squealed in frightened pleasure, and Ally smiled indulgently at her little sister. In a perfect imitation of Susan, she crossed her little arms and said, "You know she just ate, right Dad? You do that and she might throw up."Eight, going on thirty."I've been barfed on before by lesser women." He swung Vicky around his shoulders, the helicopter, they called it, and she laughed and laughed. Her giggles were infectious, and soon the whole family chimed in. Donovan felt his heart constrict. This—making his daughters and wife laugh—this was sheer perfection.Vicky attached herself to his back like a monkey, and they started walking west."How are you, chickens?" he asked."We're fine," Susan answered. "I got the oil changed on the way to the Metro—apparently we need new wiper blades.""They always say that," he muttered, and she smiled."I know. The danger of sending a woman to do a man's job. I told them I'd let you know and the kid looked at me like I was an idiot. Have you eaten? I packed us some sandwiches. Vicky had half of hers already, she couldn't wait. I thought we could stop in front of the monument and have a little picnic.""Sounds great."It sounded like a perfect chance for a sniper to pick them all off one by one, but he wasn't about to share that with Susan. She was hardly delicate, his wife. After years of being the daughter of a soldier, then the wife of one, she was battle-hardened herself. But once the girls had come along he'd felt an overwhelming need to protect her, to keep her ignorant of all the dangers surrounding them.It only took a few minutes to get to the grassy knoll the monument rested upon. Donovan stared at the obelisk, shaking his head. He'd lived in the District his whole life, yet had never gone up in the monument.For a time it had been under renovation, and, of course, September 11 meant it had been closed, and the elevators didn't run except for visiting dignitaries. But it was back open now, more than a symbol of the geographical heart of Washington, D.C. It was a symbol of power. Phallic. Soaring. White marbled. Like a flawless compass pointing north, not to the magnetic pole, but to the heavens. To the only real masters of the brethren beneath.He really needed to schedule a time and take the girls. He'd heard the view was amazing.They found a spot on the hill and settled in, the buffalo-checked stadium blanket warm underneath them, both girls serious about eating their sandwiches but shivering in excitement, like racehorses in the gates. Donovan understood their anticipation, but for different reasons. He wanted to get down to the cherry blossoms and take their stroll, watch the festivities, and go home. Get them out of harm's way. Home was the only place he could truly relax. These milling masses of people were too much for him. He chided himself—marking time was one of his worst faults—but blamed it on the crowds. And the feeling that something was wrong. He'd learned the hard way never to ignore his gut.Ally was staring at him, and, almost as if she could read his thoughts, set her half-eaten sandwich on the plastic bag and said, "Can we go, Mommy?""Finish your sandwich, baby.""I'm done. Look, Daddy's done too.""Eddie," Susan scolded. "Eat."He glanced at her, then to Ally. With a sly grin, he shoved the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Ally responded with giggles and tried to do the same, wedging the Wonder bread sideways, smearing peanut butter on her cheeks. Vicky, now eating cheerios from a sandwich bag, proceeded to upend the plastic into her mouth, spilling little Os down her shirt. She looked festooned for a party, and Donovan laughed out loud."Finished," they cried together, and Susan shook her head at them."I didn't think I'd ever raise such savages. Fine. Fine. We can go."They stood, wiped the girls down, tidied their things, and Susan folded the blanket and tucked it into her backpack."Carry Vicky," Donovan said, lifting Ally into his arms. There was no way he was going to chance losing one of them in this crowd.They strolled to the Tidal Basin, where the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. Some had already begun to fall, slowly dying on the ground, creating a blanket of pink and white, fairy tale snow. The girls oohed and aahed, wriggling like puppies in their parents' arms. Donovan and Susan set them down and they immediately rained themselves in the crushed petals.Susan snapped photos, immortalizing their antics.They were down by the paddleboats when Donovan's cell phone rang. There was only one reason for Donovan's phone to ring today, of all days, the day he'd arranged to take off in order to spend time with his family, as if they were regular people, in a regular world."Shit," he said."Daddy, you owe a quarter!" Ally said.Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a quarter and handed it to her, then, ignoring Susan's basilisk glare, answered the phone.He recognized the voice immediately. "We need to talk.""Now?""Yes."He clicked the off button on the cell and glanced at Susan. He resisted the urge to close his eyes to avoid forever being turned to stone, instead bent close, as if talking tenderly might help."Honey, I'm sorry. I have to go. You and the girls have fun, and I'll see you at home tonight.""Eddie, you promised them." She flung her hand to the right, where Ally was studiously avoiding his gaze, showing her sister the intricate bark of a weeping cherry tree."Don't do that, Susan. Please.""You promised me," she said, softer this time.He heaved a breath in, his mind already five miles away. He didn't do guilt. Guilt was for the weak. Susan rarely pulled it on him, either. He couldn't help himself; his tone changed. He straightened up, the calm, cool demeanor back in place."I said I was sorry. I'll be home as soon as I can."He leaned in and bussed her mouth briefly, then went to the girls."Daddy has to run an errand, chickens. But I'll see you at home tonight. Why don't we have…pizza!"They danced in little circles, all disappointment forgotten. "Pizza, pizza, pizza!"If only everyone were so easily swayed.He gave them each a quick kiss, touched Susan on the cheek in apology, and started off at a quick jog down Wallenberg toward Maryland, looking for a cab. His car was parked all the way back by the Air and Space museum, on the meters at the top of the mall. It would be quicker to get a ride.He was in luck. Within moments he caught the eye of a turbaned man who swerved to the curb to pick him up. The cab smelled of evergreen and cumin, and something else, that indefinable scent that all D.C. cabs seemed to have. Maybe it was fear. Or power. Or greed. Or envy. Regardless, it insinuated itself into the very fabric of the city.He slid in the back. "Corner of Seventh and Independence, please."The cab darted from the curb, and deposited Donovan at his car five minutes later, having only been stymied by a single motorcade.Eddie jumped in the Audi and took off toward Constitution, then swung back around and headed down toward the Navy Shipyards. The radio was tuned to 101.1, a song by one of his favorites, Nine Inch Nails, playing. He turned it up and tapped his fingers in time on the steering wheel.The sun shone in the corridor today. Streams of people walked down to the Nationals stadium for the season opener. Baseball and apple pie coupled with naval history and pastel row houses.Happy.Safe.But there was something Donovan had learned from hard experience.Appearances could be deceiving.
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22 of 25 people found the following review helpful. She's Done It Again! By Wendy Catalano, C Being a huge fan of J.T. Ellison's "Taylor Jackson" series I wondered if she could pull it off with a spin-off focusing on Taylor's best friend, Dr. Samantha Owens, Nashville's Chief Forensic Examiner.The answer is "Oh yes, she sure can".Having her whole world torn apart 2 years earlier, Sam receives a call from a very dear friend from her past, the mother of a former love Eddie Donovan. Eddie dies suddenly and mysteriously and she asks Sam to come and perform a second autopsy on him because she is not convinced of the circumstances surrounding his death.Once arriving in Washington, Sam's life becomes a whirlwind of non-stop action and suspense as she tries to piece together the events leading up to Eddie's death.This novel had me glued to the pages from beginning to end and I wasn't ready for the story to be over when I arrived at the last page.I hope it is the first book of a "Dr. Samantha Owens" series.Bravo J.T. you've done it again!
9 of 9 people found the following review helpful. "The universe isn't kind. It's indifferent. You can't punish yourself because of bad timing." By Cheryl Stout I hadn't read any of Ellison's books before "A Deeper Darkness" but I will soon be remedying that. This is a mystery thriller written the way it's supposed to be written.Strong character development - I soon felt like I knew the main protagonist, Dr. Samantha Owens, and cheered her on and grieved with her. Secondary characters were fleshed out well, too. I liked the love interest but also liked Fletcher and especially Lurch.The story itself is fast paced with enough twists and turns to keep me guessing almost to the end of the book. I ended up staying up all night finishing the book - and I'm not complaining. It was worth it. I especially liked the military aspects of the book, with many of the main characters of the story being Army Rangers.A flood, friendly fire, PTSD, a car jacking?, a diary written in Latin, a bit of OCD behavior, old loves, new romantic interests, autopsies, Rangers dying everywhere, an illegitimate daughter, a mountain hermit...all tied together in a rip roaring fine book.I have already got an Advanced Reading Copy of Edge of Black and am going to be reading it next. It's snowing outside and I have a good book to read. Life is good!My only complaint was the formatting on the Kindle version. The story was bunched together, making it a bit more difficult to read.
5 of 5 people found the following review helpful. Most ambitious and clearly best book to date By Bookreporter J.T. Ellison's latest novel is somewhat of a spinoff from her popular Taylor Jackson series. It takes Jackson's friend, medical examiner Samantha Owens, and removes her from the familiar, if not necessarily comfortable, environs of Nashville and transplants her in Washington, D.C. While the newest bead in Ellison's string of superlative works, it's her most ambitious --- and clearly best --- book to date.As A DEEPER DARKNESS opens, Sam is still reeling from the loss of her husband and children as a result of the Nashville floods in 2010. But when she receives a call from Eleanor Donovan in D.C., it seems at first that she's trading one set of misery for another. Eleanor is the mother of Eddie Donovan, with whom Sam had a romantic relationship several years before, when they were both single. Eddie has been found dead, murdered seemingly as the result of a carjacking. Eleanor does not believe that Eddie was a seemingly random victim of crime and wants Sam to perform a second autopsy. When another murder occurs, it does not take long before a common thread is established between the two deaths. Sam honors Eleanor's request, even as her return to Washington, and the post-mortem examination of her former lover, reopens old wounds and creates new ones.The situation is difficult on a number of fronts. Eddie has left a family behind, and his wife is understandably somewhat upset about the interjection of her husband's former girlfriend into the period of mourning. But the two women strike up an alliance --- albeit an uneasy one --- when Sam's forensic examination of Eddie's body reveals a darker reason for his murder than a carjacking. When a second D.C. murder takes place --- involving a member of Eddie's unit in Afghanistan --- it appears that someone has a grudge they are nursing or a secret to keep. An investigation turns up additional murders, stretching from the United States to Afghanistan and back again, and seemingly tied to a reclusive ex-soldier named Xander, who has remained off the grid and secretive since his return from the war zone.The answer to the mystery can be found in the pages that are apparently missing from Eddie's old notebooks, which in turn were written in Latin as a way of concealing their true meaning. It seems that Eddie had a number of secrets to keep, including at least one involving Sam, with whom he ended his relationship shortly before deploying to Afghanistan. The answer to everything may lie with Eddie's post-military service employer, a private security agency that supposedly contacted Eddie with an assignment just before his death. Sam's contribution to the investigation may be invaluable, but it makes her increasingly vulnerable, not only emotionally but also physically, as a shadowy killer widens his circle of potential victims.Ellison once again demonstrates a wide range of expert knowledge of forensics and, in this case, insider knowledge of the governmental environs of Washington, D.C. Having worked as a staff member for the White House and the Department of Commerce, she is as familiar with the nation's capital as she is with her home base of Nashville, and uses this as a backdrop to a mystery that will no doubt expand her ever-growing fan base while retaining those who enjoy her Taylor Jackson series. If A DEEPER DARKNESS is the launch point for a second series, Ellison should have no problem attracting readers to both.Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub
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