J.E. Taylor is a writer, an editor, a manuscript formatter, a mother, a wife and a business analyst, not necessarily in that order. She first sat down to seriously write in February of 2007 after her daughter asked: “Mom, if you could do anything, what would you do?”
From that moment on, she hasn’t looked back and now her writing resume includes five+ novels either published or targeted for release along with several short stories on the virtual shelves including a few within upcoming eXcessica anthologies.
Ms. Taylor also moonlights as an Assistant Editor of Allegory, an online venue for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror, and lends a hand in formatting manuscripts for eXcessica as well as offering her services judging writing contests for various RWA chapters.
She lives in Connecticut with her husband and two children and during
the summer months enjoys her weekends on the shore in southern Maine.
Assistant D.A. Carolyn Hastings has an uncanny knack for putting away criminals. With one of the best prosecution records in recent history, her future as Manhattan’s next District Attorney looks certain. But her sixth sense for winning cases threatens to work against her when she starts seeing a string of murders through the eyes of the killer.
With suspects piling up as fast as bodies, and the motives of those closest to her questionable, Carolyn doesn’t know who to trust. When the FBI assigns Special Agent Steve Williams to the case, Carolyn discloses her deepest fear - that the man she loves may be the one responsible for the city’s latest crime spree.
The only thing Steve knows for sure is Carolyn has an inexplicable psychic connection with the killer, and all the victims have one thing in common…a striking resemblance to Carolyn Hastings.
And he knows it’s only a matter of time before this psychopath knocks on her door.
Praise for CRYSTAL ILLUSIONS
Randy turned his head in her direction, the hot shower had done nothing to quell his aggravation and he carefully examined his response. How do I explain a black eye and the blood on my clothing to the assistant D.A. It was almost laughable, but the earlier events had dampened his mood and he couldn’t tell her the truth, that would land him in a shit load of trouble, but he couldn’t brush it off either. “I went to meet a client and got mugged on the way back.”
Carolyn’s eyes grew hard as she took a step back. “I had another vision.” She took another step toward the bathroom door.
Randy’s eyebrows drew together at the question in her eyes. A vision, shit she thinks I’m responsible? The sudden realization of her thought process burned through him like a ravaged wild fire. “You think I…”
Carolyn bolted out of the room.
“Fuck!” Randy cursed and grabbed a towel, sliding on the tile floor as he made a bid to catch her. Her hands shook as she tried to navigate the dead bolt and he grabbed her arm before she figured out how to unlatch it. He had to stop her, to convince her it wasn’t him and he spun her toward him. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“But you weren’t mugged either!”
Randy’s shoulders slumped and his gaze traveled to the balcony and the bloody shoes. “No I wasn’t mugged. But I’m not the Scarlet Slasher either.” He brought his gaze back to hers.
“You were covered with blood when you came in Randy, what the hell am I supposed to think?” She yanked her arm from his grasp. “And your face, that’s where she hit him with her purse.” Carolyn’s voice trembled as she pressed her back to the door.
The fear in her eyes churned his desperation into raging fury. She believed he was capable of murder, of killing innocent women - women that looked like her. “Go ahead, test the blood.” Randy pointed at the balcony, his anger bleeding from between his clenched teeth. “It’s beef and pork blood, from my family’s meat packing plant.” He turned and stormed back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
He drew on a pair of jeans and returned to the living room “How the hell can you think I’m capable of that!” Anger radiated in waves.
Tears brimmed and slid down her cheeks. “Your trench coat, now this…”
“Jesus Carolyn.” Randy ran his hand through his wet hair, her accusation stewing, stirring his anger into a tizzy.
“I couldn’t reach you the other night after the nightmare and tonight you weren’t here. Do you have an alibi for the other murders?”
Randy couldn’t believe her audacity, her ability to believe he was capable of such things. “If it happened at night, I was here. During the day I’m working.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?”
Randy’s jaw tightened, his teeth aching from the pressure. “I don’t know.”
Her head dropped to her chest and her lips pressed together. “I have to go.”
Of course she’s going to run. That’s what she does when things get tough. “I’ll take you home.” He turned before she could argue. Coming back moments later fully dressed. He grabbed his trench coat and ripped open the front door.
“Randy.” The glare he sent her stopped her in her tracks.
“You think I’m a murderer. What else can I say?” he snapped. “This…” He pointed between the two of them. “Is over.” He stabbed the down button and waited for the elevator.