BLOG TOUR PERFECT DEATH BY HELEN FIELDS

There’s no easy way to die…

Unknown to DI Luc Callanach and the newly promoted DCI Ava Turner, a serial killer has Edinburgh firmly in his grip. The killer is taking his victims in the coldest, most calculating way possible – engineering slow and painful deaths by poison, with his victims entirely unaware of the drugs flooding their bloodstream until it’s too late.

But how do you catch a killer who hides in the shadows? A killer whose pleasure comes from watching pain from afar? Faced with their most difficult case yet, Callanach and Turner soon realise they face a seemingly impossible task…

Firstly a huge thank you to Sabah at Avon for my proof copy ..I’ve had the absurd pleasure of reading all 3 in this series within a year! Lucky bookworm

If you haven’t read any then go and start 2018 with a bang and a new favourite crime writer .

Helen is a incredible writer who I hope is going to keep publishing books for years to come.

Each book brings something new and more twisted to the table .

With each book we get to know more about the main characters and that just makes the reader connect more to the story .

Very chilling and mysterious. Compelling and sinister and makes you think how and why could someone do that?

Read on for a exclusive extract and do check out the other blogs taking part !

Published 25th Jan and I wish her every success with this book and look forward to more …is there another installment ??!!

Extract Two: Chapter Two, pp. 6-7
Mark sprinted, knowing it was pointless as he exerted himself, but the idea of merely walking towards the dead woman smacked of disrespect. He took the ridge on his hands and knees, the longer, gentler pathway around the edge of the hilltop out of the question. He was bleeding by the time he could see her directly, a tableau on the ground, the good people of Edinburgh waking unaware in the distance, Arthur’s Seat above them. Ignoring his skinned knees and cut hands, Mark flew down the scree slope, calling out to her as he went.
His drone was a grounded, whirring mess of plastic and metal a few metres away. He hadn’t even realised he’d thrown down the remote. The mobile in his pocket was playing a game of cat and mouse with his fingers. Then he was at her side, kneeling on the frozen ground, pressing his fingers against her neck, aware that it wasn’t possible for a body that colour to have a pulse. He ripped off his winter coat in spite of his certain knowledge that life had fled her flesh, in order to cover her nakedness. After that he called the police, giving the best description he could of their location within the mountainous landscape that stood regal over Scotland’s capital.
Close-up, Mark could see she was younger than he’d thought, the freezing night having robbed her of the blush denoting her youth. Like him, he thought, she was in that teetering abyss between teenage and adulthood. A tiny diamond in the side of her nose sparkled with the first rays of morning winter sun, off-setting the blonde highlights artfully added to her copper hair. It was all he could do to stop himself brushing the hair from her face, but then he would see her eyes more clearly and he didn’t want that. Mark stood up, peering over the ridge of the hill to check for approaching vehicles, but there was no clear view of any roads. In summer, free of corpses, it would have been a private and sheltered idyll. A waving patch of red in the scrub grass some twenty metres away caught his eye.