View From Above

Hunting Grounds, Book #4

A therapist who sees the trauma, a detective who can’t prove the murder, and a killer determined to make them fall.

When an innocent woman plunges to her death, trauma therapist Mallory Kotite sees what the police don’t: a connection to her father’s suspicious suicide. She’s spent years trying to escape his legacy—and the damage inflicted by the man behind it. But proving his death wasn’t suicide could finally set her free…or put her directly in a killer’s sights.

Detective Payton Nichols knows the evidence doesn’t add up. What he can’t prove is murder. With his career already shaken by a mistake he can’t forget, he needs Mallory’s insight into her father—and the secrets surrounding his death. But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to deny the attraction between them.

When another life is threatened, Mallory realizes the past isn’t finished with her. And Payton must confront the wounds he’s spent years burying.

Before the killer uses it to destroy them.

View from Above

"A very intense, romantic thriller!"

- Bookbub review

View from Above

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Short Excerpt

“It’s not what you think.”
Payton holstered his weapon and unpocketed his cuffs in the same move, closing in. He secured his grip around one wrist and twisted it down to her lower back then the other. Her smooth skin caught on calluses honed over years of hands-on police work as the cuffs ratcheted loud in his ears. “What is it I think, Mallory?”
“I didn’t hurt that woman,” she said. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“You’re in the middle of a potential crime scene.” He tugged her into his chest and lowered his voice. “I have enough to arrest you for tampering with evidence and obstructing an investigation.”
“I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.” Her voice turned breathy as he spun her to face him. Long lashes grazed across exaggerated cheekbones and framed impossibly dark brown eyes. Almost to the point he couldn’t differentiate the color from her pupils, a hereditary gene he’d seen only once before. Mallory Kotite set her jaw as though ready for a fight. “My father didn’t jump from that roof last month, and I don’t think that woman down there did either. You’re making a mistake.”
He patted her jacket pockets, discovering her phone in one and a set of car keys in the other. He tossed the keys to Wells and turned the screen to capture Mallory’s face ID to check the logged messages. Do you believe me now? The recipient of her last message had been saved in her contacts. Detective Jackass. “Seems I’m not the only one.”