Reprobate

She cared for her dying mother. Then they called her a killer.

When Louise sacrifices everything to care for her terminally ill mother, she never expects her devotion to end in handcuffs. But after a toxicology report reveals a lethal overdose, she's arrested for murder—and thrown into a nightmare she can’t escape.

Detective Jerry McManus thinks it’s a clear-cut case—until he starts asking questions. Louise’s fractured family hides more than grief: old rivalries, buried secrets, and manipulative power plays that stretch beyond the grave. As McManus digs deeper, he begins to suspect Louise isn’t the monster she’s been made out to be.

But the truth is far more twisted than either of them imagine. And someone will do anything to keep it buried.

REPROBATE is a dark, layered mystery-thriller about trust, betrayal, and the deadly cost of uncovering the truth.

Available now. Discover the secrets Louise was never meant to survive.

Excerpt from the book

Louise was making her second cup of coffee of the day. She loved it when she had a few hours alone after dropping Darcy to school. It was just past 9 a.m., and she was looking forward to taking a break when she saw Charlie in the back garden; he was rolling in what looked like a dead bird. She raised her eyes and swore silently.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she murmured to herself. Then, she turned away from the window. “Alexa, volume up,” she said as the Eminem song came on the radio. Cheerily, she sang along.

She smiled to herself. If her daughter was here, she would tell her to stop. She could hear her now. “Stop trying to sing, Mom. You know you can’t hold a tune. Besides, you told me you’re allowed to do anything as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Well, your singing hurts me, so stop, please. Now!”

After the song ended, she opened the door to deal with Charlie. He tried to push past her leg, but she snatched him up quickly and took him to the kitchen sink. He was a mess—covered in blood and feathers, and just as she soaped him up, she heard a knock on the front door of her Spanish-styled bungalow. Charlie looked at her with a bulgy-eyed stare, half his whites showing. He was an ugly, fat little pug, but she loved him ever since the day she found him at the local pound.

“Who could that be?” she muttered. No one ever came to her home—ever. She didn’t have many friends because her family had turned her off trusting people.

She had watched too many serial killer documentaries for her own good and always wondered why women still opened their doors to random strangers who ended up killing them in their own homes. She shook her head at her imagination and decided it probably wasn’t a serial killer, but some young sales guy who spoke bad English and thought his looks would be enough to coerce her into a new electricity plan that was every bit as expensive as her current one, only worded differently.

Charlie struggled in the sink, and she whispered, “Charlie, you’ve got to stop doing this, or you’ll go back to the pound. Do you hear me?”

Charlie whimpered in response.

“Shhhhh,” she said to Charlie like he was a human and would understand. Maybe he did because he didn’t bark, but when she glanced at the door, he saw an opportunity and tried to wiggle out of her arms. His nails dug into the inside of her upper arm, and it hurt. “Stop, Charlie. I mean it,” she whispered louder at him this time.

His bulgy eyes stared at hers, and he stopped for a moment, planning his next move. She wanted to turn down the radio, but whoever was outside would hear her shouting to Alexa. She strained to hear anything over the music but heard nothing.