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L.A. Heat
L.A. Heat
Amazon.com Amazon.com
Powell's Books Powell's Books

Pat gives an overview of the book:

A killer is stalking and brutally murdering the young lovers of Christopher Bellamere and the cops are convinced that Chris is responsible. Los Angeles Homicide Detective David Eric Laine, himself deep in the closet, is determined to bring the killer to justice. The last thing he wants or needs is the complication of a lover. Then he meets Chris Bellamere, computer analyst and Silverlake slut and just maybe their closest link to the serial killer. Then all hell breaks loose when David finds that he's falling in love with his prime suspect.
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A killer is stalking and brutally murdering the young lovers of Christopher Bellamere and the cops are convinced that Chris is responsible.

Los Angeles Homicide Detective David Eric Laine, himself deep in the closet, is determined to bring the killer to justice. The last thing he wants or needs is the complication of a lover. Then he meets Chris Bellamere, computer analyst and Silverlake slut and just maybe their closest link to the serial killer. Then all hell breaks loose when David finds that he's falling in love with his prime suspect.

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Short excerpt from L.A. Heat

 

THE JOHN DOE had been dead for days.

Flies buzzed around the corpse, crawling over sunken eyes and up collapsing nostrils. From the doorway L.A.P.D. Homicide Detective David Eric Laine could see the skin sloughing off dehydrated muscles. He held his breath against the stench. After fourteen years on the force he figured he had seen it all. But sometimes the perps still managed to surprise him with their brutality.

The body had been posed on its back, legs splayed on the blood-soaked rug, hands already bagged to preserve evidence. He knew that death had occurred somewhere else. The lack of blood anywhere but on the carpet, and the body itself, confirmed that. Abruptly he turned away. John Doe wasn't going anywhere; he could concentrate on evidence the killer might have left behind.

This was no drug buy gone sour, or a bad domestic. The way the body lay in the hot, breathless room, empty eyes staring at a filthy window, told him this was worse. He knew the rug had been used to carry the body to this dumpsite. Just like the others. David felt a familiar tightening in his gut. He had hoped they'd been wrong about the last body, found less than a month ago in a similar state.

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