“A psychological portrait akin to Lord of the Flies.” ~Midwest Book Review
SOME TRUTHS ARE BETTER KEPT SECRET. SOME SECRETS ARE BETTER OFF DEAD.
ALONG THE BANKS OF THE BOGUE FALAYA RIVER, sits the abandoned St. Francis Seminary. Beneath a canopy of oaks, blocked from prying eyes, the teens of St. Benedict High gather here on Fridays. The rest of the week belongs to school and family—but weekends belong to the river.
And the river belongs to Beau Devereaux.
The only child of a powerful family, Beau can do no wrong. Star quarterback. Handsome. Charming. The “prince” of St. Benedict is the ultimate catch.
He is also a psychopath.
A dirty family secret buried for years, Beau’s evil grows unchecked. In the shadows of the haunted abbey, he commits unspeakable acts on his victims and ensures their silence with threats and intimidation. Senior year, Beau sets his sights on his girlfriend’s headstrong twin sister, Leslie, who hates him. Everything he wants but cannot have, she will be his ultimate prize.
As the victim toll mounts, it becomes clear that someone must stop Beau Devereaux.
And that someone will pay with their life.
SOME TRUTHS ARE BETTER KEPT SECRET. SOME SECRETS ARE BETTER OFF DEAD.
ALONG THE BANKS OF THE BOGUE FALAYA RIVER, sits the abandoned St. Francis Seminary. Beneath a canopy of oaks, blocked from prying eyes, the teens of St. Benedict High gather here on Fridays. The rest of the week belongs to school and family—but weekends belong to the river.
And the river belongs to Beau Devereaux.
The only child of a powerful family, Beau can do no wrong. Star quarterback. Handsome. Charming. The “prince” of St. Benedict is the ultimate catch.
He is also a psychopath.
A dirty family secret buried for years, Beau’s evil grows unchecked. In the shadows of the haunted abbey, he commits unspeakable acts on his victims and ensures their silence with threats and intimidation. Senior year, Beau sets his sights on his girlfriend’s headstrong twin sister, Leslie, who hates him. Everything he wants but cannot have, she will be his ultimate prize.
As the victim toll mounts, it becomes clear that someone must stop Beau Devereaux.
And that someone will pay with their life.
Meet the Authors
Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, PhD, is a multi-award-winning author of over twenty-seven novels, a screenwriter, ICU Nurse, and historian who was born and raised in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Having grown up in the motion picture industry as the daughter of a director, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable. A member of the Horror Writers Association and International Thriller Writers Association, Weis writes mystery, suspense, thrillers, horror, crime fiction, and romance. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans where she is a permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries and rescues orphaned and injured animals.
Author links:
http://alexandreaweis.com/
https://www.facebook.com/authoralexandreaweis/
https://twitter.com/alexandreaweis
https://www.instagram.com/alexandreaweis/
Lucas Astor is from New York, has resided in Central America and the Middle East, and traveled through Europe. He lives a very private, virtually reclusive lifestyle, preferring to spend time with a close-knit group of friends than be in the spotlight.
He is an author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but right next door behind a smiling face.
Photography, making wine, and helping endangered species are just some of his interests. Lucas is an expert archer and enjoys jazz, blues, and classical music.
One of his favorite quotes is: “It’s better to be silent than be a fool.” ~Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird)
Author links:
http://alexandreaweis.com/
https://www.facebook.com/authoralexandreaweis/
https://twitter.com/alexandreaweis
https://www.instagram.com/alexandreaweis/
Lucas Astor is from New York, has resided in Central America and the Middle East, and traveled through Europe. He lives a very private, virtually reclusive lifestyle, preferring to spend time with a close-knit group of friends than be in the spotlight.
He is an author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but right next door behind a smiling face.
Photography, making wine, and helping endangered species are just some of his interests. Lucas is an expert archer and enjoys jazz, blues, and classical music.
One of his favorite quotes is: “It’s better to be silent than be a fool.” ~Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird)
Giveaway...
Excerpt...
Beau sat by a tree, keeping his lamp off and letting his eyes adjust to the utter blackness around him. He listened to the night, zeroing in on any hint that Jenson was nearby. He breathed in the cool air, feeling powerful. Beau loved the night and relished the mysterious woods around his home. He loved disappearing into them when he was a child, back when he’d sneak out his bedroom window after his parents went to sleep and would roam the dark trails.
Beau learned a lot during his nightly wanderings. He’d set traps, and when he captured something small, like a squirrel or possum, he’d amuse himself. His father caught him climbing back in his bedroom window one night, covered in blood. That was when Gage put in an alarm, bringing his activities to an end.
Thrashing arose to his left. Beau waited by the tree, knowing his prey was near. Nothing moved like a man in the woods, and a frightened one was louder than a bullhorn on a still night.
The bumbling obstacle to Beau’s winning season quickly approached. He held his breath, excited by the fluttering in his stomach. He held off his attack until he could see Jenson’s thick shape in front of him.
Beau pushed off the ground and tackled the useless fool.
Jenson cried out, and his weight sent him tumbling into a deep hole.
Beau grinned as he heard him groaning from its depths. He removed a ChemLight from the side pocket of his camo pants and cracked it. An eerie greenish light expanded outward, illuminating the old farm well Beau had uncovered earlier that day. “You okay down there, Jenny?”
“Beau?” Jenson sounded petrified. “Is that you? Get me out of here, man.”
Beau stepped closer to the edge of the dry well. “Not ready to do that quite yet.” He dropped the green light into the hole and saw Jenson cowering against the wall.
“Get me out of here!” Jenson screamed.
“Sorry, Jenny. You, ah, might want to keep an eye out. You’re not alone in there.”
Jenson snatched up the glow stick and waved it around. Then he froze. The ghostly light illuminated a snake coiled up to the side.
His shriek was music to Beau’s ears. “It’s hard to say what I put in there with you. It was dark, so I couldn’t tell if your little friend is venomous or not.”
“Come on,” Jenson hollered. “This isn’t funny.”
“Maybe not to you,” Beau grinned. “But I bet you’ll move your lard ass and block whatever comes my way from now on.”
“I’m sorry, Beau. I’m sorry,” Jenson whimpered. “Please get me out of here.”
Beau went to his backpack, which rested at the base of a tree. “Now I want you to sit there and think about how you’re not gonna screw up again. I can’t have you making me look bad.” He slipped the pack around his shoulder. “Got that, Jenny?”
“Please, I won’t mess up again!”
Jenson’s voice reminded Beau of a woman in a horror movie—high-pitched and about to meet her maker.
“No, you won’t.” Beau chuckled. “Or I might have to come up with a worse punishment.”
He flipped on his flashlight and scoured the ground, looking for the trail back to camp. Beau could thank his father for that. Gage was a stickler for making it easy to get around the uncleared portions of the estate. Tonight, Beau had taken full advantage.
Screams followed him as he moved deeper into the woods. The hours he’d spent planning Jenson’s tomblike confines were worth it.
The land around his home was a haven, but he preferred the shores along the river. He might be the heir apparent, but he wasn’t in control—Gage was. Only at the river was he king.
Flames danced through the trees. Beau switched off his flashlight and followed the orange glow back to his friends.
Mitch and Josh sat by the fire pit, their dog masks abandoned at their feet. They turned when they heard Beau coming.
“Where’s Jenson?” Josh stood and looked behind him.
Beau slipped the pack from around his shoulders and warmed his hands. “Don’t know. Lost him in the woods somewhere.”
Mitch went to the break in the trees Beau had come through. “But where? We kept him on the path, just like you said, and stopped chasing him at the marker you showed us.”
Beau sat down and took a bottle of water from his pack. “You two should go look for him. Make sure he’s all right.”
“What if he’s hurt?” Josh asked.
“He’ll be fine. Hopefully, a little wiser and not as clumsy on the field.”
Mitch flipped on a flashlight and glanced at Josh. “Let’s go.”
Beau waited as their crunching through the brush faded. He sat back and looked up at the pinpoints of stars above the treetops. Staring at the sky, he thought about the others he wanted to teach a lesson.
“They’ll never see me coming.”
Beau learned a lot during his nightly wanderings. He’d set traps, and when he captured something small, like a squirrel or possum, he’d amuse himself. His father caught him climbing back in his bedroom window one night, covered in blood. That was when Gage put in an alarm, bringing his activities to an end.
Thrashing arose to his left. Beau waited by the tree, knowing his prey was near. Nothing moved like a man in the woods, and a frightened one was louder than a bullhorn on a still night.
The bumbling obstacle to Beau’s winning season quickly approached. He held his breath, excited by the fluttering in his stomach. He held off his attack until he could see Jenson’s thick shape in front of him.
Beau pushed off the ground and tackled the useless fool.
Jenson cried out, and his weight sent him tumbling into a deep hole.
Beau grinned as he heard him groaning from its depths. He removed a ChemLight from the side pocket of his camo pants and cracked it. An eerie greenish light expanded outward, illuminating the old farm well Beau had uncovered earlier that day. “You okay down there, Jenny?”
“Beau?” Jenson sounded petrified. “Is that you? Get me out of here, man.”
Beau stepped closer to the edge of the dry well. “Not ready to do that quite yet.” He dropped the green light into the hole and saw Jenson cowering against the wall.
“Get me out of here!” Jenson screamed.
“Sorry, Jenny. You, ah, might want to keep an eye out. You’re not alone in there.”
Jenson snatched up the glow stick and waved it around. Then he froze. The ghostly light illuminated a snake coiled up to the side.
His shriek was music to Beau’s ears. “It’s hard to say what I put in there with you. It was dark, so I couldn’t tell if your little friend is venomous or not.”
“Come on,” Jenson hollered. “This isn’t funny.”
“Maybe not to you,” Beau grinned. “But I bet you’ll move your lard ass and block whatever comes my way from now on.”
“I’m sorry, Beau. I’m sorry,” Jenson whimpered. “Please get me out of here.”
Beau went to his backpack, which rested at the base of a tree. “Now I want you to sit there and think about how you’re not gonna screw up again. I can’t have you making me look bad.” He slipped the pack around his shoulder. “Got that, Jenny?”
“Please, I won’t mess up again!”
Jenson’s voice reminded Beau of a woman in a horror movie—high-pitched and about to meet her maker.
“No, you won’t.” Beau chuckled. “Or I might have to come up with a worse punishment.”
He flipped on his flashlight and scoured the ground, looking for the trail back to camp. Beau could thank his father for that. Gage was a stickler for making it easy to get around the uncleared portions of the estate. Tonight, Beau had taken full advantage.
Screams followed him as he moved deeper into the woods. The hours he’d spent planning Jenson’s tomblike confines were worth it.
The land around his home was a haven, but he preferred the shores along the river. He might be the heir apparent, but he wasn’t in control—Gage was. Only at the river was he king.
Flames danced through the trees. Beau switched off his flashlight and followed the orange glow back to his friends.
Mitch and Josh sat by the fire pit, their dog masks abandoned at their feet. They turned when they heard Beau coming.
“Where’s Jenson?” Josh stood and looked behind him.
Beau slipped the pack from around his shoulders and warmed his hands. “Don’t know. Lost him in the woods somewhere.”
Mitch went to the break in the trees Beau had come through. “But where? We kept him on the path, just like you said, and stopped chasing him at the marker you showed us.”
Beau sat down and took a bottle of water from his pack. “You two should go look for him. Make sure he’s all right.”
“What if he’s hurt?” Josh asked.
“He’ll be fine. Hopefully, a little wiser and not as clumsy on the field.”
Mitch flipped on a flashlight and glanced at Josh. “Let’s go.”
Beau waited as their crunching through the brush faded. He sat back and looked up at the pinpoints of stars above the treetops. Staring at the sky, he thought about the others he wanted to teach a lesson.
“They’ll never see me coming.”
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