, and really enjoyed it. Her stories don't promise a happily ever after, but they do make you think. I am pleased to be able to post this announcement and a short excerpt of her newest story. 
Catharsis by Noorilhuda
(on pre-order till 12th July)
Dark tale of a tough-as-nails detective, a curious old man and a persistent district attorney - all trying to catch a pedophile.
What would you do to be free?
Excerpt:
TUESDAY
“He’s right over there, waiting at your desk.”
She turned around to have a look at the person Sherriff Johnson wanted her to meet. The thin old man was already sitting at her desk with a calm expression.
“I wonder where all the blood goes?” She said out loud. “He looks half-dead and he’s our best shot?”
“Now Aurora he says he knows where the boy is,” Sheriff Johnson said.
“He had a dream.”
“He convinced the family. We have to play along or else they may go to the press.”
“Making us the bad guy no doubt. God, sometimes these people make me sick. We are supposed to follow real leads, not characters out of a bloody Stephen King novel!”
“Better be nice to him.”
She grunted and rushed out of his office.
He called out to her from behind.
“Hey Ro, one more thing. He drinks blood.”
“Beg-your-eff-pardon?”
“He carries a bit around.”
“He carries a bit what around?”
“Like a milkshake.”
“Is that legal?”
“He has a prescription for it.”
“And the hits keep coming.”
“Be -”
She did not let him finish.
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Without wasting a moment or breath she sat on her side of her desk and started.
“Hello, I hear you are some kind of blood sucking genius who knows where the body is. I’m Fox. So out with it Mr. Maxwell what-a-name Caine, where is Daniel?”
The frail guy smiled. Clearly, undeterred by her ambush, he remained motionless, sitting as he was, cross-legged with one hand on his knee and the other on the table. She hated him already.
“Who said Danny is dead?”
“Unless you are hard of hearing, and that wouldn’t surprise me, I did. Of course he is. Someone does not remain missing for 15 days without ending up in some hole somewhere. We just don’t know which one he is in. The attic, or river or under the kitchen sink.”
“He’s alive and we are getting late. We have to be at the 77th street cafe by twelve o’clock.”
“He’s in the cafe?”
“No. That’s where I have my lunch every Tuesday.” He got up to stand close to her. “So does the kidnapper.”
“Okay let’s go.” She noticed he had a cane.
Straightening himself up he asked, “Aren’t you going to take a few officers along?”
“I’m all the backup you’ll ever need,” she said checking her gun. “Come along.”
Soon they were driving to the place thirty blocks away.
“So tell me about yourself. How do you know the Logans?”
“I do not. I just happened to have a flat tire right outside their place and Mr. Logan was kind enough to let me use the phone.”
“And they believed the flat tire story?”
“They always do.....its hard enough being clever. One does not need to lay it too thick on grieving souls.”
‘A limping megalomaniac solves the crime’, she thought. ‘That will be the day.’
She had to ask. “You make puppets for a living do you not?”
“Yes.”
“Are you making a dummy of us?”
He glanced at her and milked his thoughts.
(Read more of this excerpt on the noorilhuda's Goodreads blog post.)
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Fear is relative.
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