Claudia doesn’t feel like herself anymore—she feels like prey. Her husband’s hired goons have stalked her all the way to Boston and will only stop their pursuit once she is dead.
Divorce is not an option. Instead, she has stolen a bunch of her man’s money to disappear into another life.
In order for Claudia to live, someone else must die. A lookalike college student becomes the target capable of freeing her from an awful marriage.
The plan goes horribly awry. Instead of murdering Claudia’s double, the assassins shoot the woman’s lover who is the cousin of a powerful Irish mobster. Claudia becomes hunted by all involved. Can she survive? Should she?
Claudia Must Die will be released on December 8th.
About the Author:
T. B. Markinson is an American writer, living in England. When she isn’t writing, she’s traveling around the world, watching sports on the telly, visiting pubs in England, or taking the dog for a walk. Not necessarily in that order. T. B. has published A Woman Lost, Marionette, and Confessions From A Coffee Shop.
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Excerpt (some strong language)
The assassins were not trained killers—after all, how many were? Perhaps unsurprisingly, the two brothers had fallen into the trade. Before they became assassins, most of their free time was spent playing video games and hanging out at the only 7-Eleven in town, drinking Slurpees. Their sleepy Texas town didn’t offer much for young men who wanted more from life than playing video games and drinking Slurpees.
All of the adults they knew hated their jobs—if they had one—and loathed their responsibilities. Life had become a disappointment to everyone in this shithole town near the Mexican border.
Then, one day, a man approached the brothers in the 7-Eleven parking lot. He offered them a job. It was not a factory, nor anything of that sort. They simply had to deliver a package, which they did.
For more than a year, they worked on and off for the guy. After they had earned his trust, the man asked the brothers if they owned any guns.
Boyd Woolf, the eldest brother, laughed. “Mister, we were born with guns in our hands. This is Texas.”
The man smiled, but there was no joy in his expression. “Good to know.” He handed them another package.
Two weeks later, the man showed up without a package. Instead, he handed them a picture, an address, and a wad of cash. “Take care of it,” was his only instruction.