Angela Bennett
We invite you to take some time to look around and hope you’ll come back and visit often.
Angela, author of the debut novel, DARK ROAD HOME, her husband, and their amazing dog, live in Florida, New York City, and Italy. Angela is currently writing the next Belle McBain novel.
Three years after her kidnapping by a notorious assassin, Belle McBain, enjoys her life in Jersey City, running a successful private investigator firm with her best friend, Osmond Banks.
Until someone tries to kill her.
When the police find her unconscious body in Northern Manhattan, they discover near her there are two shallow graves. One with a fresh corpse, the other of skeletal remains. Was she to be the next victim buried? Belle believes she is someone’s target, and as she joins forces with a homicide detective, she finds a connection between herself, and the fresh corpse discovered.
After three years in hiding, Belle’s brother, an assassin, returns. And it seems the past isn’t going to remain in the shadows forever. As the investigation progresses, she learns people are keeping things from her.
Faced with scarce leads in the investigation, Belle questions if they can find the person who tried to kill her and committed the murders before there is another victim, until a mysterious phone message links a two-decade-old missing person mystery to the case.
And to her.
Before it’s too late, will she and the detective figure out the killer’s plan? Or will a terrified and panicked Belle lose what she holds most dear? Can she survive the shattering truth that follows?
Three years after her kidnapping by a notorious assassin, Belle McBain, enjoys her life in Jersey City, running a successful private investigator firm with her best friend, Osmend Banks. Until someone tries to kill her.
When the police find her unconscious body in Northern Manhattan. they discover near her there are two shallow graves. Ung with a frash corpse, the other of skeletal remains. Was she to be the next victim buried? Belle believes she is someone’s target, and as she joins forces with a homicide detective, she finds a connection betmons herself, and the fresh corpse discovered.
After three years in hiding, Belle’s brother, an assassin, returns. And it seems the past isn’t going to remain in the shadows forever. As the investigation progresses, she learns people are keeping things from her.
Faced with scarce leads in the investigation, Belle questions if they can find the person who tried to all her and committed the murders: before there is another victim, until a mysterious phone message links a two-decade-old missing parsun mystery to the case. And to her.
Before it’s too late, will she and the detective figure out the killer’s plan? Ur will a terrified and ponicked Bulle lase what she holds mast dear? Can she survive the shattering truth that follows?
He gripped the mop handle with a fierce hunger, feeling a surge of sadistic thrill as he imagined the satisfying pressure of his hands around her neck, ending her life. He observed her, licking his lips as the pain in his bones and the desire in his groin intensified to its peak. Consumed by an uncontrollable hunger, he wanted her. As darkness fell, he eagerly anticipated fulfilling his wicked cravings, stalking the streets of New York City like a black panther—an ambush predator, using stealth and surprise to attack unsuspecting victims. He loathed the shallow, conceited prey who squandered money on their looks and acted like gods among men—those who wouldn’t spare him a moment of their time. To the world, they were adored; to him, they were reminders of everything he could never have.
Belle McBain, not caring one iota if everyone in the restaurant heard her, blurted across the table, “What in God’s name is wrong with you?” to Osmond Banks, her best friend and business associate. He was testing her patience and Irish temper. “You’re making it seem like we’re plotting against you, but he just wants to know how you are. Perhaps if you answered his calls, he wouldn’t need to contact me.” She bit back a comment she might later regret.
Homicide Detective Jonah Ross, Manhattan division, showed his badge and went under the crime scene tape. Though the worst of the acid rain had passed, leaving only a light spray, the ominous clouds sailing across the grey sky suggested the break was fleeting. The future held the promise of unrelenting rain. Police officers held a mass of spectators back near the drenched lawn beyond the asphalt, while a crowd of officers kept the press penned in; they stood, apprehensive, in colorful rain gear, microphones and umbrellas poised.
