Violated

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Authors: Jamie Fessenden

BOOK: Violated
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J
AMIE
F
ESSENDEN

Murder on the Mountain


A true murder mystery mixed with age gap romance and Fessenden’s smooth and sincere prose, Mountain is an outstanding read.

—Prism Book Alliance


Oh, man, this is
such
a good read… I really had a good time reading this novel.

—My Fiction Nook


Fessenden’s writing is smooth and engaging… He certainly has a knack for world-drawing and for creating an interesting supporting cast.

—Boys in Our Books

Screwups

“…
Jamie has cemented himself a place on my automatic buy list.

—Love Bytes

Billy’s Bones


This is one of the most intense books I think I may have ever read… Now, with that being said, I have to say that it was by far the best book I have read this year alone.

—Live Your Life, Buy the Book


I told someone… that it is definitely one of my favorites of 2013. Thinking back I now have to say that it’s one of my favorites of all time.

—On Top Down Under

By
J
AMIE
F
ESSENDEN

Billy’s Bones

By That Sin Fell the Angels

The Christmas Wager

Dogs of Cyberwar

The Healing Power of Eggnog

Murder on the Mountain

Murderous Requiem

Saturn in Retrograde

Screwups

Violated

We’re Both Straight, Right?

 

G
OTHIKA

Claw (Multiple Author Anthology)

Stitch (Multiple Author Anthology)

Bones (Multiple Author Anthology)

Published by
D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Published by

D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Violated

© 2015 Jamie Fessenden.

Cover Art

© 2015 L.C. Chase.

http://www.lcchase.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-63476-450-6

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-451-3

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015905043

First Edition August 2015

Printed in the United States of America

This paper meets the requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

For Stacia

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

 

I would like to thank Stacia, Cody Kennedy, B.A. Brock, Eli Easton, and Brandilyn Carpenter for helping me through one of the most difficult journeys I’ve taken as an author. They had to put up with many late-night messages of despair and insecurity over the past year.

A
UTHOR

S
N
OTE

 

 

There are times when a story idea grips an author and won’t let go. Over a year ago, I was struck by the idea of a man whose life was destroyed by rape, though I wasn’t sure I was qualified to write it. It’s a grim subject, and one I take very seriously. But the story demanded to be written, so write it I did, with the aid of several friends, beta readers, and some consultations with the local police department. I took some liberties with police procedure in order to keep Russ active in events as they unfold, but I hope the result is otherwise accurate, as well as being a good story.

 

Warning: this novel contains scenes that might be triggers for survivors of sexual abuse.

C
HAPTER
O
NE

 

 

T
HE
BACK
porch of the lake house had a screen door that opened onto a wide wooden deck. From there, short steps led down to a dock overlooking a broad lake surrounded by pine trees with small cabins nestled between them. Derek Sawyer stepped out into the warm morning air and let the spicy scent of pine embrace him, along with the surprisingly fresh smell of damp mud. There was something here, something that relaxed and soothed him like a soft blanket. He’d known he wanted to own the cabin the moment he set eyes on it.

His dog pushed past him and trotted to the edge of the deck, debating whether her short, arthritic legs were up to venturing down the steps.

“Gracie!” Derek heard his fiancé call from inside, making him sigh. Tim wouldn’t come after the dog, of course—he’d rather just shout for her.
That’s what I get for falling in love with a cat person
.

“She’s okay,” Derek said to the darkened interior. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Fine.”

He walked to the edge of the deck and sat down on the steps, reaching his right hand up to scratch Gracie’s ruff. The old mutt leaned into him, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. “What do you think, girl? Nice place?”

It was a little late to change their minds. Derek and Tim had signed the closing papers yesterday. Now Tim was inside with the real estate agent, sorting out all the keys the previous owners had left behind and making sure nobody had left any unpleasant surprises in the closets. The cabin was theirs.

It was an extravagance, especially since they wouldn’t be living in there year-round. But Derek had wanted a place by the lake ever since he could remember—a place to breathe in the fresh air, relax in front of a fire at night, maybe do a little fishing….

When a coworker mentioned the cabin on the internal corporate bulletin board to let people know she was lowering the asking price, he’d practically dragged Tim to come with him that weekend to look it over. Tim had been less than blown away, but to Derek, it was perfect—almost exactly like the cabin he and his dad had stayed in when he was a boy. And they could afford the mortgage. It had been on the market so long, the owner had agreed to an undersell.

“Is it falling apart?” Tim had asked skeptically.

“No,” the real estate agent assured them. “But nobody’s buying these days. Not in this area. And most people consider a summer cabin too extravagant right now.”

The inspectors and bank appraisers hadn’t found any problems, so Derek had eventually worn Tim down. They still had their condo in town, and maybe they’d trade that for a more permanent house someday. But for now, they had a summer cabin.

“Max! No! Come here, boy!”

Derek didn’t have time to figure out who was shouting. Gracie tensed a split second before a very big and very wet German shepherd came bounding up the steps from the dock. Derek hadn’t even seen him climb out of the water—he’d been too lost in his thoughts. The dog was obviously friendly, his mouth open in an enormous, goofy grin and his tail wagging furiously, so Derek was merely startled when the beast clambered up to plant a wet kiss on his chin. Gracie seemed less than thrilled by the invasion, but she wasn’t inclined to growl at other dogs. She simply looked put out.

A second later the German shepherd shook himself, spraying water everywhere.

“Max! Get over here, right
now
!” The man’s voice came from behind Derek, so Max burst through the space between Gracie and her master, smearing more mud on Derek’s T-shirt and leaving swampy footprints along the wooden deck.

Derek turned to see a handsome, well-built man with short, dark brown hair kneel down to grab the shepherd by the collar. The man glanced up with startling sky-blue eyes, his brow furrowed in embarrassment. “God! I’m so sorry about that! He got all excited there was somebody on the deck, and he got away from me.” He was panting slightly, as if he’d been running.

Derek stood and made a futile effort to brush some of the mud off his shirt. He gave up and extended his hand to the visitor. “That’s all right. I can survive a little mud. My name’s Derek.”

“Russ,” the man said, accepting the handshake with a warm smile. “I live in the cabin over there.” He pointed to the other side of the deck, where a path wound through the shrubbery on the hillside. A cabin similar to the one Derek had just purchased could be seen nestled in the pines a short distance away.

Max strained against Russ’s grasp, his attention now drawn to Gracie. There didn’t appear to be any malice at all in the German shepherd—simply curiosity—but Gracie was half his size and a bit old for roughhousing. She half hid behind Derek’s legs, watching the bigger dog with trepidation.

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