Sentencing Sapphire by Mia Thompson
(Stalking Sapphire, #3)Published by: Diversion Books
Publication date: October 6th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Thriller
Sapphire Dubois is back in the follow-up to the international bestsellers STALKING SAPPHIRE and SILENCING SAPPHIRE, fighting her most grueling serial killer yet.
A summer has passed since the catastrophe at the country club. Heiress and vigilante Sapphire Dubois has escaped to Paris, where she has shed her rich persona and lives as the infamous Serial Catcher. When the handsome Detective Aston Ridder tracks her down, Sapphire returns home to find Beverly Hills in chaos. A new vigilante has taken over Sapphire’s old job, and will stop at nothing to get her predecessor out of the way.
Meanwhile, a man with dark intentions and a deceiving smile has nestled his way into the rich community and is killing off heiresses. It doesn’t take long before Sapphire finds that this man, the next killer she has to catch, is none other than her estranged father. Already plagued by sickening memories, Sapphire is pushed to the limit when her father initiates a deranged game that threatens both her sanity and the lives of everyone around her.
While Aston struggles to keep the woman he loves from drowning in her father’s madness, Sapphire battles to outwit her merciless opponents before time runs out and more innocent blood is spilled.
Excerpt:
“Merde!”
the serial killer yelled in French.
Sapphire
Dubois leered down at the man she’d chased from France to Italy.
She’d gotten lucky; she didn’t even have to dig most of the hole
this time. It was a grave yet to be filled. The ancient cemetery lay
in darkness, but the glistening city below the hill gave her the
light she needed.
“Who
are you?” he yelled. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“That’s
funny, Monsieur,”
Sapphire said in her best French. “I’d bet my last baguette
that’s exactly what the women asked
you right before you
killed them.”
He
glared up at her with a look of guilt that lacked regret; the look of
a sociopath. “Are you a cop?”
“Ha!”
Sapphire slapped her knee, then turned serious. “I’m much worse
than a cop, Monsieur.
I’m… your toaster oven.”
His
head cocked. “Huh?”
Sapphire
scrambled for the French dictionary on her phone. “Ah crap! I
totally meant to say ‘your worst nightmare.’ This app sucks.”
The
man didn’t seem to care about the rating of her app; he was more
concerned with getting out of the deep grave. Self-centered
creatures, serial killers.
“Save
your energy, the cops will be here to take you out in a bit. I’m
sure even Interpol is eager to get their hands inside you.”
His
face twisted in revulsion.
“I
mean of
you. No, hands on
you… damn it. I swear I’m usually good at this stuff.”
Sapphire’s years at Winchester Private Academy had made her
semi-fluent in French. Had she studied text books as much as she’d
secretly studied the psychology of serial killers, she may have been
fluent.
Sapphire’s
high heels dug into the dirt as she walked over to the bush and
grabbed the barbed wire and a boom box manufactured in the Jurassic
period.
As
the Serial Catcher—the name the American police had given
Sapphire—she would have dropped an anonymous call to give the cops
the whereabouts, but she couldn’t stick to her routine. The cops
back home had kept the Serial Catcher on the DL from the media. She
wasn’t sure Interpol would, and she couldn’t have the news get
back to a certain cop in the States. Though she was sure he had no
idea Sapphire Dubois—the heiress he’d slept with—was the
vigilante he’d been searching for, he knew the Serial Catcher’s
M.O. better than anyone. Sapphire had led him to believe she was in
Dubai by placing her cell in someone’s luggage at the airport, and
that’s what he needed to keep believing.
“This
look familiar?” She showed the killer the barbed wire then placed
it so it’d be the first thing the cops saw.
“Merde.”
He stared at the bundle. Of course it looked familiar. He’d been
using it to cut women’s heads off all over Europe for the past six
months. The British papers had dubbed him the Barbed-wire Butcher.
“You
like heavy metal, Monsieur?
Or are you more of
a Kelly Clarkson type of guy?” Sapphire didn’t wait for an
answer. She pushed play and the song Serial
Killer filled the
cemetery. “Fitting, isn’t it?”
“You’re
crazy!” He shouted in French.
“Said
the serial killer in the hole.”
It’d
be easier to just kill him. Sapphire
froze at the thought. She stared at the killer pacing his pen.
It would be easier.
Sapphire had trained in Mixed Martial Arts for years. She could take
him out then dig deeper down in the grave. A casket would be placed
on top and nobody would know there was a second body in there. It
would be safer for her; she wouldn’t have to worry about potential
exposure.
Sapphire
shook her head to silence the thought. She turned the volume to max
and picked up her prepaid phone to make an anonymous noise complaint
to the police using her limited Italian. She hung up, then took in
the view. The Leaning Tower of Pisa looked magnificent in the
distance and made her smile. The summer had been amazing. The life of
the old Sapphire—the Beverly Hills heiress who secretly captured
serial killers and pined for the cop chasing her—felt like decades
ago. That life had been complicated and full of duties she hated.
She’d led a double life. She’d faked, fibbed, and sipped
champagne at the country club by day, then hunted murderous men by
night.
The
new Sapphire didn’t have to lie. She’d chased the Barbed-wire
Butcher around Europe, on and off during the summer, and not a single
person had asked where she’d been or what she’d been doing. She
had ultimate freedom, a dream life.
She’d
connected the dots in Spain where she saw that a few of the victims
had Liked and Favorited Moga: mobile yoga for people on the go. Two
had mentioned a certain instructor they had the hots for. It was a
classic case of Moga groupies. Sapphire found the French travelling
Moga instructor’s schedule and raced ahead of him to Pisa. She went
to eight of his classes and acted like a super-groupie, wearing short
shorts and sports bras. She’d twirled her hair and giggled at
whatever he said. By the time he’d asked her out on a “date,”
she’d gotten pretty decent at Moga. It was a win-win.
“I’m
afraid I have a train to catch.” Sapphire looked at the time. “But
I’m sure you’ll love prison, plenty of barbed-wire there for you.
And, oh…” She put her palms together and bowed. “Namasté.”
She
jogged through the cemetery as the music and the man’s scream
streamed into one. She’d stared at the leaning tower for too long
and now had to haul ass in high heels and a mini skirt to catch the
train back to Paris.
The
dark gravestones panned by in her periphery and she decided to take a
shortcut. An icy claw dragged down her spine and she picked up the
pace. She knew it was just her imagination, but the cemetery was
suddenly a menacing reminder of the ghosts of her past. She raced to
the moss-covered wall and scaled it. When her feet hit the ground and
the cemetery was behind her, the creepy chill eased and the warm July
wind wrapped itself around her.
Life
is good, she reminded
herself as she headed for the station.
And
as everyone knows, all good things last forever.
Interview
How
did you come up with the idea for vigilante, Sapphire Dubois?
Oddly
enough, the initial idea came from a reoccurring dream I had, where a
man—a killer—was stalking a young woman through a dark forest.
After having the dream a handful of times and fearing for the girl, I
finally realized I was wrong. She wasn’t the victim, he was.
I
woke up thinking: “who the hell is this girl?” And I didn’t
stop thinking about it until I started writing Stalking
Sapphire.
Sentencing
Sapphire
is the third book in the Sapphire Dubois Series. Does it end as a
trilogy, or do you have more books planned?
The
series will have a total of five books, but I always saw the first
three books running together like a trilogy as many of the
storylines, from Stalking
Sapphire
and Silencing
Sapphire,
will be resolved in Sentencing
Sapphire.
However, there’s an almost invisible storyline running through the
first three that will explode in books four and five. It’ll be a
game changer for everyone: Sapphire, Aston, and the reader.
Speaking
of Sapphire and Aston, who’ve had a very “will they, won’t
they” relationship so far, will they finally end up together?
After
Silencing
Sapphire was
released, I got a lot of pleads from readers around the world to put
them together in book three. Some were even angry. Though it may seem
like I’ve kept them apart for dramatic purposes, drama has little
to do with it; I could’ve put them together at the end of book one,
and it may even have intensified the rest of the plot. But Sapphire
and Aston are extremely flawed characters, destructive at times. In
short, they haven’t been emotionally ready for a relationship.
If
Sapphire and Aston get together, it will be because they’ve grown
as people, and have earned their way to each other.
What
was that like to grow up in Sweden, and how has it affected your
writing style?
According
to others, somehow, my years in Sweden were spent wearing pigtails
and yodeling in the Swiss
Alps,
while listening to Abba and eating lutefisk.
This
is only partly true. I did all those things while sitting in my
Volvo.
No,
honestly: the weather is sh*t and we have way too many drinking
songs, but Sweden is a nice, sheltered country to grow up in, whether
the Swedes know it or not. I don’t think Sweden, or America alone
influenced my writing style, but the perspectives I gained from
living in two places with different ideals certainly did. I believe
the bigger your horizon is, the more characters you can understand
and write.
Did
you always know you wanted to be a writer?
If
I recall correctly, the first time I said I wanted to be an author I
was eight or nine. But, like most kids, I went through the usuals:
Hair dresser. Veterinary. Movie Star. As well as the unusuals: Spy.
Ice picker (??) Gum-shoe style detective. And, Lois Lane—not a
journalist; I literally wanted to work as Lois Lane.
Through
all this, I was always writing, always plotting stories. I’m glad I
circled back to author because, one: I would’ve made a terrible
hair dresser, vet, or actress. Two: the world would’ve been a
lesser place had I chosen spy or detective. Three: Ice picking sounds
terrible, and apparently, there are no Lois Lane college courses.
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