Occupation: Homicide Detective

It’s 3:00 p.m. and the beginning of Detective Connors’ last night shift before she switches to two day shifts and then two off. She’ll stay at the precinct tonight. With her shift ending at 1:00 a.m. tomorrow and the new day shift starting at 8:00 a.m. the same morning, it’s rarely worth heading home on changeover night.

She’s already brought a change of clothes, including two new pairs of pants. Concealed carry is an art, and for a woman it’s fine art that often requires the help of a good tailor. Women’s pants typically don’t have belt loops, especially ones wide enough for a belt capable of holding the nearly 1-kilo weight of a loaded Glock 17. Then add cuffs and a radio – you get the picture.

Her new partner, Detective Ross, is already at his desk, hammering at the keyboard to complete one of the dozens of reports required to record every detail of their last case—a case that resulted in three deaths, two new scars, and a fracture in their fledgling partnership.

She’s due in court tomorrow as part of a preliminary hearing on an earlier case. Day shifts often involve court appearances, lawyers with their six-figure struts taking potshots at every decision and action you made on the street from the safety of a brightly lit courtroom. While she hates the time away from her caseload, it means when a conviction comes, it’s solid, and anyone facing prison for the rest of their life is owed at least that.

After hours of reading case notes and reports for tomorrow, Ross glances at her, giving a thin smile which she returns.

“Shall we?” He stretches his tall frame before retrieving his jacket. She nods. They’ve received a tip-off that a potential witness will return to his aunt’s house later tonight. It’s their best chance of catching up with him.

The drive to Crown Heights is quiet until the call comes across the radio, a ‘10-13’ less than a block away. ‘10-13’ means ‘Assist Police Officer — ASAP’. Connors lights up the car while Ross swerves through traffic. Central Dispatch reports an EDP (emotionally disturbed person) with a knife.

They arrive to see Officer Sanchez with his weapon aimed at a suspect twenty feet away, a silver blade clasped in the man’s hand. She’s out of the car before the nose lifts to a halt, aiming her Glock at the man’s chest as Ross circles to Sanchez’s left.

A woman lies on the sidewalk ten feet to the left—dead or injured? It’s impossible to tell, but no blood there’s hope. If they can get to her soon. . .

“Sir, drop the knife now!” Sanchez shouts, his finger curving onto the trigger of his weapon. Non-lethal options are out. Sanchez’s Taser has a range of twenty-one feet max, but accuracy at that distance is almost nil, with no time left for him to retrieve his gun if he misses or the Taser doesn’t drop the man. It doesn’t always. . .

“I didn’t do nothin’!” The veins around the man’s wild eyes are thick like threads as he sweeps the blade from side to side, looking nervously at Ross and his Sig. He doesn’t need to worry; Ross is the least likely cop in the department to shoot anyone. His last on-target shot two years ago killed a suspect, and Connors knows he’d lose his own life before he takes another.

“What’s your name?” Connors asks.

The suspect shakes his head as he backs away.

“Rusty,” Sanchez replies sternly.

“Rusty, drop the knife and let us help you.”

“No. I can’t go to jail. I can’t!”

Rusty retreats towards the main street, but they can’t let him reach it. Dozens of civilians, a crossfire nightmare . . . They have to keep him corralled in this side street.

“Rusty, we just want to help you.” She sidesteps to the right, trying to block his retreat, but he scuttles backwards, keeping her at bay.

“What happened here, Rusty? Are you okay?” The woman on the ground is her main concern, but she can only snatch half-second glances at her. She has to get Rusty to communicate with her.

“I didn’t do anything,” Rusty wails, taking another step back.

“So tell me what happened. I’ll listen to you.” She lowers her weapon an inch and the suspect stops his retreat, leaning against a parked car. Is he using? Drunk? Sick?

“Rusty. Talk to me.” Connors smiles, lowering her weapon further. She’s relying on Ross—well, Sanchez—to drop the suspect if he rushes her now, but she has to give him one last chance.

Ross moves quietly along the far side of the car.

“Rusty, are you ok—?” She takes a step forward.

Got to hold his attention. . .

As the suspect pushes off the car to come at her, Ross launches himself over the hood, barreling into Rusty and spinning them both to the ground. Connors and Sanchez rush into the melee to complete the arrest.

Looks like you’ll make court tomorrow, Connors. Unfortunately. . .

You can read more about Detective Connors in White Night, the first book in the NEW “Detective Connors” mystery series.

Her last case nearly killed her.

After a year fighting her way back from life-threatening injuries, Homicide Detective Jen Connors is finally reinstated, but tough questions still surround her actions that night.

Now, partnered with the controversial Detective Alan Ross—a move she suspects is designed to end her career—she faces a homicide case that quickly spirals into a horrifying twist of death, terror and survival as the mysterious “White Night” event threatens more than just their lives.

But there’s more to Alan Ross than the department rumors suggest. He could just be the best partner she’s ever had, or her last.

Together, they are the city’s strongest chance at preventing White Night’s destruction and stopping a killer who uses every resource, including the NYPD themselves, to carry out his plan for redemption. . .

“Four out of four stars.” – Online Book Club, “An incredibly engaging novel…”, “Highly recommend it”

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Meet the author
J.J. ‘s background is about as varied as it gets. A consultant for the British Navy, Fortune 500 Companies, various branches of the US Government and non-profit organizations, it was only a matter of time before J.J. returned to a love of writing.

J.J. never has a shortage of experiences to draw from after living in the UK, US and Canada. With a natural storytelling voice and a talent for connecting characters and readers via real world emotions and experiences, J.J. is already turning heads with White Night.

When not writing, J.J. enjoys hiking, skiing and horseback riding as well as coaching students in Dressage.

All comments are welcomed.