Book excerpt for Eyes Die Last from Teri Riggs

Today I’m hosting a book excerpt for mystery thriller author Teri Riggs and her new novel, Eyes Die Last.

During her tour, Teri will be awarding a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card to a lucky person. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit other tour stops and enter there, too.


Teri Riggs
was destined to be a writer. As a small girl she didn’t read bedtime stories,
she made up her own. Who needed Little Red Riding Hood or The Three Little Pigs
when there were so many great tales bouncing around in her head? When she grew
up and became a mother to three little girls, she continued the tradition of
making up bedtime stories. On the occasions she chose to tell conventional
fairytales, Teri usually gave them a bit of tweaking here and there or added a
new ending. Her girls loved it.
After her
daughters had the nerve to actually grow up and leave home, Teri discovered she
had a passion for writing and jumped right in. It came as no surprise she chose
to write mysteries and happily-ever-after’s since that’s the genres she loves
to read.
Teri lives in
Marietta, Georgia with her husband, one of her daughters and two dogs that seem
to think they rule the world. And some days Teri thinks maybe they do.

Teri still
frequently tells herself stories as she falls asleep. The only difference now
is she wakes up the next morning and turns her bedtime stories into books.

The Las Vegas Mayoral race is heating up, and the incumbent doesn’t have a prayer. Wealthy real estate speculator Nick Campenelli, who wants to legalize prostitution in Clark County, and former pastor Louis St. Louis, running on a ‘clean-up-Vegas-by-getting-rid-of-the-whores’ platform, are the front runners.

They’re also front runners on the suspect list for a string of murders. Kennedy O’Brien, four-year detective with cop blood running in her veins, and her partner Wilder “Wild Thing” James, a veteran, are determined to find the man who’s murdering prostitutes who work the wrong side of the street, and they don’t care how important or politically active he is.

The killer is a man with a mission. He stalks the women before he kills them, leaving a “BEFORE” photo on their bodies, and sending an “AFTER” shot to the local news hound. Ed Hershey, an aging newscaster with just the right amount of grey in his hair, is determined to turn this story into a network gig, and his interference, along with the LVTVS legal team, are making Kennedy and Wilder look bad. Campenelli’s good looks and charm, and St. Louis’ vitriolic hatred of prostitutes are muddying the waters too, and now the killer seems to have taken a liking to Kennedy. 

So the big question remains. Can she get him before he gets her?

Nick, leaning against a marble pillar with his arms crossed,
observed the detective as she took in the view. He tried to figure out what was
going on in that beautiful head of hers.
She was stunning. Her hair, a rich sable color, fell just
below her shoulders. Long, dark lashes surrounded rare blue-violet eyes. Her
lips were full and softly sculpted. She was tall and lithe, and when she moved,
he got a glimpse of the soft, womanly curves hidden beneath her jacket. She
wrapped her arms around her waist.
Was that a little shiver?
She tilted her head back and took a deep breath, and then
let it out with a long sigh.
“Are you chilled, Detective? I can get you a wrap.”
She turned and snarled. “I just lost my balance for a
second. You shouldn’t sneak up on a person like that. You’re lucky I didn’t
shoot you.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Why in the hell would
anyone want an office way up here anyway?”
He found the slight Irish cadence that had slipped into her
voice, very, very sexy. “For the view of course. I’ve caught you admiring it. Or
was the sigh for me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Slick. Not that it’s any of your
business, but that was an attempt to keep my morning coffee down. The ride up
could make a bird nauseous.”
“Not fond of heights, I take it. Too bad. Being at the top
gives a person a much clearer picture of everything.” He stepped forward and
stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder with her, enjoying the view himself. “Can
you honestly deny how great the view is from here?”
“Being this high up makes my heart pound and knees weak. I
feel so woozy I could hurl. But strangely enough, I can’t help but look.” Her voice
softened. “It’s a really spectacular view.”
Nick could tell the minute Kennedy realized what she’d said.
She turned to face him, looking totally mortified. Her eyes narrowed and her
body stiffened.
“I’m glad you enjoy it, Detective. Give yourself a few
minutes and the weak knees and the urge to hurl, as you so delicately put it,
will go away. Then you can relax and enjoy the panorama.”
 “Sorry, I don’t have
the time to stand around getting off on scenery. And I sure as hell don’t have
time to worry about whether or not I speak delicately. I have a few more
questions I need you to answer.” Her voice had regained its hard edge.
“No problem, Detective. Let’s move over to my desk, or the
couch. Whichever you’d feel more comfortable at.”
“Your desk will be fine. This shouldn’t take long, Mr. Campenelli.”
“Please, call me Nick.” He led her over to his desk and
offered her a chair across from his own.
“Mr. Campenelli—”
“Nick, please,” he interrupted.
“I’m not here to make nice, Mr. Campenelli. I’d like for you
to tell me about the photos of prostitutes you have plastered on the break room
wall at your campaign headquarters. Can you explain what that’s all about?”
He felt the beginnings of anger snake up his spine, then
take root at the base of his skull. “I see you’ve been talking to Ed Hershey. He
asked me the same question and I told him to go to hell as it was none of his
business. I assume since you’re wearing that nice shiny badge, I wouldn’t get
away with giving you the same explanation.”

“You assume right.”

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