Goddess Fish Party Pavilion

Every time the phone rings, Eve Petersen fears that the Gentleman Rapist will taunt her with the plight of a new victim awaiting rescue. Eve must listen as he recounts details in his phony British accent and threatens that one day he will choose her.

Eve is an attorney, not a cop, but the serial rapist terrorizing women on New York’s Upper East Side is obsessed with her. She is a determined, strong woman. But she has enough to deal with in her personal and professional life. She does not have the time or experience to solve a mystery in New York.

Now the Gentleman Rapist has escalated to murder. Now he stalks Eve's latest client, a sweet innocent girl with amnesia. Is this monster a part of the girl's mysterious past? Or did Eve herself endanger her client by handing him a target for revenge?

Now Eve must catch the Gentleman Rapist and stop his deadly game before yet another woman feels a wire tighten around her throat, and hears him whisper, "Mind me, Milady. Mind your master."

 EXCERPT FROM MIND ME, MILADY:

     It was almost noon when he looked out to the street and saw her stepping from the cab.  A familiar pounding rush ran through him – a blood rush of fear, of anticipation. 

     He could hear her running up the stairs as he had expected she would.  She was an athlete, after all, and desperate for this apartment.  Rent controlled, one bedroom, East Side, dirt cheap.  Run, Natalie, run.

     On the third floor she saw the door was open and came right in.  This was one of the reasons he was drawn to her –her confidence, her self esteem.  There was not a tentative bone in her body. 

     “Hello?” she called.  “It’s me.  Natalie.”  She looked around, pleased by what she saw, no doubt; floors newly sanded and stained, walls freshly painted, kitchen appliances all scrubbed clean.  For the rent he had quoted her, it was more than a steal.  It was highway robbery.  And she was carrying cash for a promised “bonus”, as she put it, because a bribe would be so tacky.

     She stepped into the bedroom and heard nothing as he slipped the wire over her lovely head, pulling it tight around her lovely neck.  She struggled, but not for long.  A knee pressed against the back of her legs, forced her to the floor.  Lovely legs.

     “Mind me, Milady,” he whispered in her ear in the British accent he affected for occasions like this.  “Mind the Gentleman.”

     There was no choice.  Denied breath, she was seconds from dying.

     Quickly, he placed a wide piece of tape over her eyes and another over her mouth.  Two longer pieces bound her wrists and ankles.  Only then did the wire slacken.  Air rushed in through flared nostrils.  What was she thinking?  Was she grateful just to be alive?  And how many more times would he have to bring her to the very edge of death before she learned who was in control.

     His hand disappeared inside her jacket.  She tried to move away.  A whimper emerged from beneath the tape.

     “Mind me, Milady,” he repeated.  “Mind your master.

Kenneth Hicks and Anne Rothman-Hicks
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kenneth-Hicks-and-Anne-Rothman-Hicks/622272714477979

Authors of:
Kate and the Kid, (adult fiction)(Wings ePress)
Mind Me, Milady, (adult fiction)(Barbarian Books)

Things Are Not Wht They Seem, (‘tween fantasy/adventure) (MuseItUp Publising)
Stone Faces, (middle grade)(on the Apple iBookstore)
Hearts (no flowers) Signs of Love in the Gritty City (on the Apple iBookstore)