Field of Graves(94)
The Nashville setting represents the city at the time I wrote the book; there are places, restaurants, and cultural situations no longer familiar to our town.
The biggest issue I found was how to deal with Taylor’s cat, Jade. In the current series, beginning with All the Pretty Girls, she does not have a pet. Between the books, I realized the demands being placed on her character would preclude the time and effort needed to care properly for an animal. Having someone at home who needs you to show up, feed, water, and love does take time away from catching bad guys.
But in Field of Graves, Taylor has Jade.
Some of you may recognize the name, and the description of the cat. The Jade in this book is my baby, Thrillercat. For those who don’t know the story, let me share it with you.
She came to us as a replacement cat, after we suffered the loss of our nineteen-year-old Siamese, Jiblet. (All names in my family start with J—from parents to siblings to animals to husband). When I first saw her at the pound, she was five weeks old, suffering from a bad cold. So bad that they were going to put her down. They can’t afford to have sick kittens in the cages; disease spreads too quickly.
We took her to the vet next door and insisted he patch her up. He did. When we brought her home, we named her Jade for her intense green eyes.
Having just moved to Nashville, I couldn’t find work in my chosen field, so I was happy to accept a position with the vet who healed little Jade. I thought I’d be working the desk, but he wanted me as a tech in the back. Bad. Bad. Bad. After my first neutering, I was done. But before I could quit, I picked up a large golden retriever and herniated a disc in my back. That led to surgery, and recovery time, and library books, where I discovered John Sandford. The rest, as they say, is history. I sat down and wrote a Jackson novella, then took what I’d learned and created Field of Graves.
Sadly, Jade passed away in 2012 from pancreatic cancer. It took years, but we finally adopted again—this time, sisters, also shelter kittens. How Jameson and Jordan came to live with us is a story for another time, but I will share that Jade was a huge part of the process. And it’s not lost on us that we needed two kittens to fill the void Jade left behind. She was a magnificent cat.
Though it is a departure from the rest of the series, I’ve chosen to leave Jade in this story to honor her spirit. I miss my little furry muse terribly, and I simply couldn’t erase her from the book that she gave me. It wouldn’t be right.
Thank you for reading, and for being a part of my writer’s journey. Please forgive the book’s rawness. We all need to have a first.
J.T. Ellison
Nashville, Tennessee
“Grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go.”
—Catherine Coulter, #1 New York Times bestselling author on What Lies Behind
If you loved Field of Graves by New York Times bestselling author J.T. Ellison, you won’t want to miss a thrilling moment in the Lt. Taylor Jackson series: All the Pretty Girls
14
Judas Kiss
The Cold Room
The Immortals
So Close the Hand of Death
Where All the Dead Lie
“Full of carefully mastered clues…a true thrillfest that will keep readers on the edge of their seats until the very end.”
—Suspense Magazine on When Shadows Fall
And be sure to catch all the riveting action in J.T. Ellison’s Samantha Owens series: A Deeper Darkness
Edge of Black
When Shadows Fall
What Lies Behind
“Mystery fiction has a new name to watch.”
—John Connolly, New York Times bestselling author Complete your collection today!
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All the Pretty Girls
by J.T. Ellison
One
“No. Please don’t.” She whispered the words, a divine prayer. “No. Please don’t.” There they were again, bubbles forming at her lips, the words slipping out as if greased from her tongue.
Even in death, Jessica Ann Porter was unfailingly polite. She wasn’t struggling, wasn’t crying, just pleading with those luminescent chocolate eyes, as eager to please as a puppy. He tried to shake off the thought. He’d had a puppy once. It had licked his hand and gleefully scampered about his feet, begging to be played with. It wasn’t his fault that the thing’s bones were so fragile, that the roughhousing meant for a boy and his dog forced a sliver of rib into the little creature’s heart. The light shone, then faded in the puppy’s eyes as it died in the grass in his backyard. That same light in Jessica’s eyes, her life leaching slowly from their cinnamon depths, died at this very moment.
He noted the signs of death dispassionately. Blue lips, cyanotic. The hemorrhaging in the sclera of the eyes, pinpoint pricks of crimson. The body seemed to cool immediately, though he knew it would take some time for the heat to fully dissipate. The vivacious yet shy eighteen-year-old was now nothing more than a piece of meat, soon to be consigned back to the earth. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Blowfly to maggot. The life cycle complete once again.
He shook off the reverie. It was time to get to work. Glancing around, he spied his tool kit. He didn’t remember kicking it over, perhaps his memory was failing him. Had the girl actually struggled? He didn’t think so, but confusion sets in at the most important moments. He would have to consider that later, when he could give it his undivided thought. Only the radiant glow of her eyes at the moment of expiration remained for him now. He palmed the handsaw and lifted her limp hand.