All the Pretty Girls (Taylor Jackson Series #1)

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Overview

Some secrets should stay buried…

When a local girl falls prey to a sadistic serial killer, Nashville Homicide Lieutenant Taylor Jackson and her lover, FBI profiler Dr. John Baldwin, find themselves in a joint investigation pursuing a vicious murderer. The Southern Strangler is slaughtering his way through the Southeast, leaving a gruesome memento at each crime scene -- the ...
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Brilliance Audio on MP3-CD, 2009. CDROM No Stated Edition. Fine/Fine. Unabridged. MP3 CD. Running time 10 hours 59 minutes on one CD. The files can be transferred directly to ... your MP3 player. Read more Show Less

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All the Pretty Girls

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Overview

Some secrets should stay buried…

When a local girl falls prey to a sadistic serial killer, Nashville Homicide Lieutenant Taylor Jackson and her lover, FBI profiler Dr. John Baldwin, find themselves in a joint investigation pursuing a vicious murderer. The Southern Strangler is slaughtering his way through the Southeast, leaving a gruesome memento at each crime scene -- the prior victim’s severed hand.

Ambitious TV reporter Whitney Connolly is certain the Southern Strangler is her ticket out of Nashville; she’s got a scoop that could break the case. She has no idea how close this story really is -- or what it will cost her.

As the killer spirals out of control, everyone involved must face a horrible truth -- that the purest evil is born of private lies.
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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

In this tame debut, the body of a young girl discovered by the side of a Nashville highway puts homicide detective Taylor Jackson and her lowdown boyfriend, FBI Agent John Baldwin, on the trail of the Southern Strangler, a playful, brutal killer who likes to carry his victims across state lines before murdering them and removing their hands. Before long, however, Taylor's reassigned to the suspicious death of a prominent TV personality, leaving John struggling to keep ahead of the Strangler's mounting body count. Meanwhile, Taylor is still recovering from a near-fatal neck injury earned in her last case and worrying over her own demons-not the least of which is John's threat to marry her. The real victim is Ellison's plot, strangled by slow pacing, egregious subplots (a serial rapist, a crooked officer, a pregnancy scare) and a clichéd cast of characters: the shady Southern belle, the veteran detective pushed over the edge, the evil genius who stays a step ahead of everyone-even the appealing Taylor strikes a numbingly familiar tough-yet-vulnerable pose. Though a climactic showdown injects some much-needed excitement, readers may have a hard time getting there. (Nov.)

Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781441838414
  • Publisher: Brilliance Audio
  • Publication date: 4/28/2010
  • Series: Taylor Jackson Series , #1
  • Format: MP3 on CD
  • Edition description: Unabridged, 1 MP3-CD, 11 Hours
  • Product dimensions: 5.30 (w) x 7.50 (h) x 0.60 (d)

Meet the Author

J.T. Ellison is the bestselling author of 9 critically acclaimed novels and multiple short stories, and has been published in over 20 countries. THE COLD ROOM won the ITW Thriller Award for Best Paperback Original of 2010 and WHERE ALL THE DEAD LIE was a 2012 RITA® Nominee. Visit JTEllison.com for more information.

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Read an Excerpt

"No. Please don't." She whispered the words, a divine prayer. "No. Please don't." There they were again, bubbles forming at her lips, the words slipping out as if greased from her tongue.

Even in death, Jessica Ann Porter was unfailingly polite. She wasn't struggling, wasn't crying, just pleading with those luminescent chocolate eyes, as eager to please as a puppy. He tried to shake off the thought. He'd had a puppy once. It had licked his hand and gleefully scampered about his feet, begging to be played with. It wasn't his fault that the thing's bones were so fragile, that the roughhousing meant for a boy and his dog forced a sliver of rib into the little creature's heart. The light shone, then faded in the puppy's eyes as it died in the grass in his backyard. That same light in Jessica's eyes, her life leaching slowly from their cinnamon depths, died at this very moment.

He noted the signs of death dispassionately. Blue lips, cyanotic. The hemorrhaging in the sclera of the eyes, pinpoint pricks of crimson. The body seemed to cool immediately, though he knew it would take some time for the heat to fully dissipate. The vivacious yet shy eighteen-year-old was now nothing more than a piece of meat, soon to be consigned back to the earth. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Blowfly to maggot. The life cycle complete once again.

He shook off the reverie. It was time to get to work. Glancing around, he spied his tool kit. He didn't remember kicking it over, perhaps his memory was failing him. Had the girl actually struggled? He didn't think so, but confusion sets in at the most important moments. He would have to consider that later, when he could give it his undivided thought. Only the radiant glow of her eyes at the moment of expiration remained for him now. He palmed the handsaw and lifted her limp hand.

No, please don't. Three little words, innocuous in their definitions. No great allegories, no ethical dilemmas. No, please don't. The words echoed through his brain as he sawed, their rhythm spurring his own. No, please don't. No, please don't. Back and forth, back and forth.

No, please don't. Hear these words, and dream of hell.

Nashville was holding its collective breath on this warm summer night. After four stays of execution, the death watch had started again. Homicide lieutenant Taylor Jackson watched as the order was announced that the governor would not be issuing another stay, then snapped off the television and walked to the window of her tiny office in the Criminal Justice Center. The Nashville skyline spread before her in all its glory, continuously lit by blazing flashes of color. The high-end pyrotechnic delights were one of the largest displays in the nation. It was the Fourth of July. The quintessential American holiday. Hordes of people gathered in Riverfront Park to hear the Nashville Symphony Orchestra perform in concert with the brilliant flares of light. Things were drawing to a close now. Taylor could hear the strains of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, a Russian theme to celebrate America's independence. She jumped slightly with every cannon blast, perfectly coinciding with launched rockets.

The cheers depressed her. The whole holiday depressed her. As a child, she'd been wild for the fireworks, for the cotton-candy fun of youth and mindless celebration. As she grew older, she mourned that lost child, trying desperately to reach far within herself to recapture that innocence. She failed.

The sky was dark now. She could see the throngs of people heading back to whatever parking spots they had found, children skipping between tired parents, fluorescent bracelets and glow sticks arcing through the night. They would spirit these innocents home to bed with joy, soothed by the knowledge that they had satisfied their little ones, at least for the moment. Taylor wouldn't be that lucky. Any minute now, she'd be answering the phone, getting the call. Chance told her somewhere in her city a shooter was escaping into the night. Fireworks were perfect cover for gunfire. That's what she told herself, but there was another reason she'd stayed in her office this holiday night. Protecting her city was a mental ruse. She was waiting.

A memory rose, unbidden, unwanted. Trite in its way, yet the truth of the statement hit her to the core. "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Or became a woman. Her days of purity were behind her now.

Taking one last glance at the quickening night, she closed the blinds and sat heavily in her chair. Sighed. Ran her fingers through her long blond hair. Wondered why she was hanging out in the Homicide office when she could be enjoying the revelry. Why she was still committed to the job. Laid her head on her desk and waited for the phone to ring. Got back up and flipped the switch to the television.

The crowds were a pulsing mass at the Riverbend Maximum Security Prison. Police had cordoned off sections of the yard of the prison, one for the pro–death penalty activists, another comprised the usual peaceful subjects, a third penned in reporters. ACLU banners screamed injustice, the people holding them shouting obscenities at their fellow groupies. All the trappings necessary for an execution. No one was put to death without an attendant crowd, each jostling to have their opinion heard.

The young reporter from Channel Two was breathless, eyes flushed with excitement. There were no more options. The governor had denied the last stay two hours earlier. Tonight, at long last, Richard Curtis would pay the ultimate price for his crime.

As she watched, her eyes flicked to the wall clock, industrial numbers glowing on a white face: 11:59 p.m. An eerie silence overcame the crowd. It was time.

Taylor took a deep breath as the minute hand swept with a click into the 12:00 position. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until the hand snapped to 12:01 a.m. That was it, then. The drugs would have been administered. Richard Curtis would have a peaceful sleep, his heart's last beat recorded into the annals of history. It was too gentle a death, in Taylor's opinion. He should have been drawn and quartered, his entrails pulled from his body and burned on his stomach. That, perhaps, would give some justice. Not this carefully choreographed combination of drugs, slipping him serenely into the Grim Reaper's arms.

There, the announcement was made. Curtis was pronounced at 12:06 a.m., July 5. Dead and gone.

Taylor turned the television off. Perhaps now she would get the call to arms. Waiting patiently, she laid her head down on her desk and thought of a sunny child named Martha, the victim of a brutal kidnapping, rape and murder when she was only seven years old. It was Taylor's first case as a homicide detective. They'd found Martha within twenty-four hours of her disappearance, broken and battered in a sandy lot in North Nashville. Richard Curtis was captured several hours later. Martha's doll was on the bench seat of his truck. Her tears were lifted from the door handle. A long strand of her honey-blond hair was affixed to Curtis's boot. It was a slam-dunk case, Taylor's first taste of success, her first opportunity to prove herself. She had acquitted herself well. Now Curtis was dead as a result of all her hard work. She felt complete.

Taylor had stood vigil for seven years, awaiting this moment. In her mind, Martha was frozen in time, a seven-year-old little girl who would never grow up. She would be fourteen now. Justice had finally been served.

As if in deference to the death of one of their own, Nashville's criminals were silent on this night, finding better things to do than shoot one another for Taylor's benefit. She drifted between sleep and wakefulness, thinking about her life, and was relieved when the phone finally rang at 1:00 a.m.

A deep, gruff voice greeted her. "Meet me?" he asked. "Give me an hour," she said, looking at her watch. She hung up and smiled for the first time all night.

"I sure am glad we don't live in California."

Detectives Pete Fitzgerald, Lincoln Ross and Marcus Wade were killing time. Nashville's criminal element seemed to be taking a vacation. They hadn't had a murder to investigate in nearly two weeks. The city had been strangely quiet. Even the Fourth of July holiday had procured no deaths for their investigative skills. No one was scheduled for court, and their open cases were either resolved or held up by the crime lab. They had hit dead time.

The three men were crammed in their boss's office, watching TV. A perfectly acceptable pastime, especially since the department had inked a deal with the cable company. Ostensibly, the televisions were to be tuned to twenty-four-hour news networks, but the channels invariably got changed. Usually to accommodate the guilty habit of daytime soaps to which many of the detectives were addicted.

Today though, a car chase through the mean streets of Los Angeles had captured the three detectives' attention. Exciting, splashy. A kidnapping, a semiautomatic weapon at the ready, even a stolen red Jaguar. The car rolled through the various highways, rarely going under seventy miles an hour, captivating the news announcers that speculated breathlessly about whether the kidnap victim was in the vehicle or not. The homicide team cheered on their brothers in blue.

Fitz swept a beefy arm up and looked at his watch. The chase had been going on for nearly two hours now. "They put that spike strip down about five minutes ago. Wheels should start coming off here soon."

"There you go." Marcus pointed to the screen, where a large piece of tire had flown from the back wheel of the Jag, narrowly missing the pursuit car. His brown eyes were shining, excited. Fitz gave him a grin, the kid was just so young.

"You ever done a chase, Marcus?" he asked, leaning back, arms over his prodigious belly.

"No, but I have done all the training for it. I can drive, man, I can drive."

"Remind me not to give you the keys. It's over now." Lincoln Ross stood and stretched, brushing invisible wrinkles from his charcoal-gray Armani suit. "He starts running on rims, they can do a Pitt Maneuver and knock him out. See, there it is."

The pursuit car slipped up on the Jag like a black-and-white snake, then gently bumped the back right fender. In a textbook reaction, the driver of the Jag spun out, slamming into a guardrail, losing a fender, and came to rest facing traffic. In an instant, vehicles surrounded him, cops with long guns and sidearms pointed at him. No escape.

The TV anchors congratulated themselves on a story well covered, predicting it would be anywhere from five minutes to five hours before the standoff would be over. Promising not to break away from the coverage until there was a resolution, they brought in the experts, a former police officer and a hostage negotiator, for the requisite public speculation of the criminal's past. A producer somewhere in New York turned off the five-second delay a moment too soon, and the detectives stared as the door to the Jaguar opened. The suspect jumped out, dragging a woman out of the driver's-side door by the hair.

There was frantic movement on the ground, a quick tightening of the cordon around the kidnapper. The suspect looked up in the air, making sure the overhead helicopter had a moment to focus its long lens on his grinning face. He pulled the woman upright, lifted his arm and shot her in the head. He was gunned down before she hit the ground, the pandemonium obvious. The network went black for a heartbeat, then focused on the face of the shocked anchor. He looked green.

"Like I said, damn glad we don't live in California," Fitz grumbled.

The phone rang and he answered, listening carefully while jotting a few notes. "We're on it."

"What's up?" Marcus had leaned so far back in his chair that he threatened to tip over on his back.

"Body out in Bellevue. I'll go. I'll call Taylor from the car."

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 260 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(127)

4 Star

(83)

3 Star

(31)

2 Star

(8)

1 Star

(11)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 263 Customer Reviews
  • Posted May 3, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    Reviewed for Midwest Book Review

    Nashville Homicide Lieutenant Taylor Jackson is called to the scene of a homicide, where the body of a young woman, sans hands, has been discovered. When a hand is found near the crime scene, DNA proves it doesn't belong to the murdered woman but to another woman, whose body was found in another state. This brings the FBI into play, via Taylor's lover, profiler Dr. John Baldwin. The Southern Strangler, as the killer comes to be known, goes on a killing spree throughout the South, crossing state lines, leaving the bodies of young women behind, all missing their hands, but with another woman's hand nearby. And his kills are escalating at a fast rate. Baldwin and Taylor team up to catch him although Taylor gets temporarily sidetracked pursuing a serial rapist named the Rainman while Baldwin travels in the killer's footsteps. But soon the two are back together, hot on the heels of the killer.

    Taylor Jackson is not your archetypical Southern Belle. A woman from a wealthy family, she chose the life of a cop over that of a privileged soccer mom. She's well-educated, intelligent and tough mentally and physically, but her one weakness is Baldwin. The two are a winning combo and their personas complement one another. Peripheral characters are nicely developed, as is the chemistry between Taylor and Baldwin. The plot moves at a fast pace, with gut-wrenching suspense and plenty of action. Ellison's smart writing places this one apart from other mystery series and is sure to garner a plethora of fans eager for the next book.

    5 out of 8 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 12, 2011

    Okay

    This wwas an okaay read.. I figured the killer out in the first 30 pages

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted April 24, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    I was surprised

    I was very surprised by this book. It was one that I saw and downloaded on my nook to try. I got into it easy enough and was very surprised that I ended up liking it. I enjoyed the twists and turns and subplots.

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 1, 2009

    My Advice To You...Avoid At All Cost.

    This book was really predictable, hard to finish, and had characters that were too perfect. The secondary case was the only interesting part of the book. I would only recommend this book to people I hate.

    3 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 24, 2008

    5 stars

    It's the best book I've read in awhile. I couldn't put it down all the twists and turns. It's so exciting! This book grabs you and sucks you into it.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    an interesting police procedural romance

    The serial killer kidnaps young women and takes them to the next state before killing them. After having his fun with his chosen pretty ones, he slices off their hand to take with him and leaves behind the previous victim¿s hand with the fresh corpse. When a female is found by a Nashville highway with the trademark hand of the 'Southern Strangler', homicide detective Taylor Jackson is assigned the case.------------- However, she and her team go nowhere as there are neither witnesses nor have any useful evidence beyond the hand. Taylor turns to her lover, FBI profiler John Baldwin but he fails to help her solve the case. When a local TV reporter dies in what seems an accident, Taylor is assigned that case, leaving John to deal with the Southern Strangler.-------------- ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS is an interesting police procedural romance in which the serial killer steals the show from the two cops pursuing him. The story line is at its best when the Southern Strangler performs his deadly deeds and when the police investigate when the subplot turns to romance, it seems forced as the heroine is obviously not ready for dangling alliances. Still sub-genre fans will enjoy this exciting cat and mouse game in which the culprit makes the rules that the vulnerable mouse must play by.--------------- Harriet Klausner

    1 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 16, 2014

    Poor

    vERY poor word choice and usage. Awkward writing style. Mundane serial killer thriller.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 15, 2014

    To emma,

    Hi,im a boy(10yrsold)and my name is jackson vaughn macfarland,just call me jack on the next book.

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 11, 2013

    Kiddie chatter

    Too bad space is wasted with all the kiddie chater,when it should be used for a review of the book. Do they even know how to read? It is sure plain they can't spell,

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 28, 2013

    Um hello?

    I think you said this was a chat rom pretty girl? From zaynz gf

    0 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 27, 2013

    WEDDING!!!

    Wedding res 1. Party afterwards!!!!

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 25, 2013

    Makayla

    Who wants to chat? Im an 18 yr old girl...or at least i will be tommorrow (April 26) so yeah ^.^

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 25, 2013

    To Ben

    Where do u live?-DJ

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 18, 2013

    Anyone want 2 cht?

    If so rply 2 emma

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 25, 2013

    Ben

    My fav color is darkk blue, live in georgia but Everyone im oing to indiana today so ill be back moday night bye

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 23, 2013

    Jojo

    Hey im a girl im fifteen

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2013

    Lurker

    ?

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 28, 2013

    Wedding at married now result 1

    Bring friends

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2013

    Sally

    Iss here. Hey guys:)

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2013

    To perrire

    I am on respond. Thx brandi

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 263 Customer Reviews

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