Unsaid

Book 4: A Cora Shields Suspense Thriller

by Blake Pierce

Genres: Female Sleuths; Suspense; Horror

Synopsis

In this action-packed mystery thriller by #1 bestselling author Blake Pierce, Cora Shields, 30, former Navy Seal turned FBI Special Agent, is fired from the FBI for breaking one rule too many. When a killer Cora put away years ago is released from jail, the victims’ family know he will kill again and plead with her to hunt him down before he strikes again—and to pursue vigilante justice at any cost.

“A masterpiece of thriller and mystery.”
—Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re Once Gone)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

UNSAID (A Cora Shields Suspense Thriller—Book 4) is the fourth novel in a new series by #1 bestseller and USA Today bestselling author Blake Pierce, whose bestseller Once Gone (a free download) has received over 7,000 five star ratings and reviews.

On the outside, Cora Shields is a total badass. A Navy SEAL veteran and a top agent in the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Cora has a reputation for doing whatever it takes to catch a killer. What no one knows, though, is that she’s a wreck on the inside, addicted to painkillers and deeply depressed.

Sometimes, cases need to be pursued outside the law.

With no backup, Cora is finally free to act, to bend as many rules as she needs to, at any cost, to bring killers down.

She has found her new calling.

But will it also be her undoing?

A page-turning and harrowing crime thriller featuring a brilliant and tortured vigilante, the CORA SHIELDS series is a riveting mystery, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night.

Book #5—UNGLUED—will soon be available.

“An edge of your seat thriller in a new series that keeps you turning pages! ...So many twists, turns and red herrings… I can't wait to see what happens next.”
—Reader review (Her Last Wish)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“A strong, complex story about two FBI agents trying to stop a serial killer. If you want an author to capture your attention and have you guessing, yet trying to put the pieces together, Pierce is your author!”
—Reader review (Her Last Wish)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“A typical Blake Pierce twisting, turning, roller coaster ride suspense thriller. Will have you turning the pages to the last sentence of the last chapter!!!”
—Reader review (City of Prey)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Right from the start we have an unusual protagonist that I haven't seen done in this genre before. The action is nonstop… A very atmospheric novel that will keep you turning pages well into the wee hours.”
—Reader review (City of Prey)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Everything that I look for in a book… a great plot, interesting characters, and grabs your interest right away. The book moves along at a breakneck pace and stays that way until the end. Now on go I to book two!”
—Reader review (Girl, Alone)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Exciting, heart pounding, edge of your seat book… a must read for mystery and suspense readers!”
—Reader review (Girl, Alone)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Release date: March 7, 2023

Sample

 

 

 

PROLOGUE

Creak. Creak.

The rocking chair moved slowly back and forth over the wooden floor. A giggle. A sudden flurry of thumbs over the glowing phone screen. Another giggle.

“That’s delightful,” his voice spoke, soft and lilting. A voice as gentle as lilies swaying in the summer breeze. A voice like a smooth stone found in a well-washed riverbed.

Creak. Creak.

His feet pushed off the rough, unvarnished wooden floor. Through the window at his side, he spotted traffic near the dock below. A boat was currently being loaded with cranes. The large cargo vessel carried shipping containers painted red, white, and blue. It might have been mistaken for patriotic if not for the name on the side. Le Petite.

He peered through the tinted window, staring out at the ocean. And then he shot a look towards the woman sitting across from him. “So, what was your favorite color again?” he asked in that high-pitched, lilting voice.

She didn’t respond. He looked up from the phone, up from the text messages, scowling. “Did you hear me?” he said firmly.

She shook her head, fright in her eyes. The gag which had been wrapped around her mouth was now below her chin, looking silly like some gray, saliva-mottled, Santa Claus beard. The gag wobbled as she shook her head, and she sniffed, tears trailing down her cheeks.

 The woman’s wrists were bound to the metal, stationary chair. The creak, creak of his own seat continued ominously in the quiet.

The woman stammered a response. “P . . . please!”

“No,” he said sharply. “We’ve been over this. Just answer the question or the gag goes back on. Now tell me, what’s your favorite color? And remember . . . DON’T LIE!” He screamed these last words, his voice booming in a sudden spurt of rage.

She trembled, but managed to eke out, “Blue! My favorite color is blue.”

The man settled, smiling, and waved a hand daintily, with almost feminine motions, towards the window. “Blue like the sea,” he said. “Blue like your eyes. You have very pretty eyes.” And then he returned his attention to the phone, texting rapidly, and giggling again when he received a response.

He didn’t watch the woman. Didn’t much care too. She was nothing more than a depository of information. A tool to be used in his quest.

Another little speech bubble appeared, and he read the text voraciously, a shiver of pleasure coursing down his spine, tingling along his arms.

The dopamine hit was greater than any drug he’d tried—and he’d had his fair share of those—or any food he’d eaten.

 “What is your favorite memory with your father?” he said, looking up again.

The tears continued to pour down the woman’s cheeks. Her lips trembled as she tried to find the courage to reply.

He rolled his eyes emphatically. “Come on!” he snapped. “Hurry up!”

But then, her eyes flashed. He glimpsed it happen, watching as the courage arose within her. She then tilted her head back, opened her mouth, and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Before even half the sound had escaped, he lunged. Moving fast, like a skittering spider. The rocking chair toppled behind him, hitting the wooden floor with a dull thunk. But he reached the screaming woman and clasped his hand over her lips, shutting off the sound like a suddenly stoppered spigot.

He glared at the side of her head.

She was defenseless. Tightly bound, and the metal chair bolted to the floor. All she could do was breathe heavily in panic, her nostrils flaring, her eyes also widening.

He whispered in her ear, “That wasn’t very smart.”

And then he pulled the gag back on, pushing it between her lips. She choked out some word, some apology.

“Too late for sorry,” he whispered. “We can try again later. Now hush, your crying is distracting me.” Frowning, he returned to the toppled rocking chair and picked up the phone and the chair, setting it upright.

As he lowered back into the wooden seat, he stared at the screen.

In his haste to lunge at her, he’d dropped the device—and now the screen was cracked. Cracked! He glared, his eyes moving from the broken screen towards the panicking woman.

“You did this,” he said in a severe tone, turning the phone so she could see exactly what she’d done wrong. “You did this,” he stormed, his voice shaking in anger.

She whimpered, trying to lean back.

But there was nowhere for her to go.

She was stuck. Helpless.

Through the window, the cargo boat blared its horn. Preparing to depart from harbor. The crane arms had retreated. The boat would set out again to France. The shouting from the docks, the cries of loaders, workers, fishermen—all of it—more than disguised the faint outburst from his newest identity.

And her, this identity, as he thought of them, would have to learn the hard way what it meant to disobey.