The Kill (Predator Thriller Series #3)

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Her worst nightmare brought back to life, she risks everything for a second shot at justice.

For thirty years, FBI scientist Olivia St. Martin has lived with guilt and one abiding certainty–that while she wasn’t able to save her sister’s life, she did testify and helped to convict the rapist and killer. When shocking new evidence exonerates the man Olivia is sure she saw abduct her sister, she breaks every ...
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The Kill (Predator Thriller Series #3)

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Her worst nightmare brought back to life, she risks everything for a second shot at justice.

For thirty years, FBI scientist Olivia St. Martin has lived with guilt and one abiding certainty–that while she wasn’t able to save her sister’s life, she did testify and helped to convict the rapist and killer. When shocking new evidence exonerates the man Olivia is sure she saw abduct her sister, she breaks every rule in the book to uncover the truth.

Driven by the possibility that she put the wrong man behind bars, Olivia discovers that a serial killer has been at large all these years. Believing that the monster has just struck again in Seattle, Olivia leaves her lab and poses as a field agent, sharing her unofficial investigation with a hardworking Seattle cop. Olivia doesn’t want to lie to detective Zack Travis. And she certainly doesn’t want to fall in love. But as the investigation intensifies, Olivia and Zack find that they’re rapidly losing control–over their hearts, their secrets, and a case that threatens to consume them.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
The latest from Brennan (The Hunt) is a satisfying romantic thriller that pits a smart, gutsy heroine against a serial killer more than three decades into his brutal career. Olivia St. Martin, a scientist with the FBI, is stunned to learn that new DNA evidence has exonerated Brian Hall, the man she helped put away 34 years ago for her sister's murder. Olivia's research reveals that her sister's true killer may be responsible for the rape and murder of almost 30 young girls, including two recent slayings in Seattle. When her supervisor refuses to involve the FBI, Olivia travels to Washington herself, posing as a field agent, to join Seattle Police Det. Zack Travis's investigation. As Zack and Olivia try to find a missing girl before she becomes the next victim, they discover the chemistry between them and soon share more than a case. A subplot involving Hall's quest for revenge adds depth to the novel and propels it to a tense conclusion. While it lacks the nail-biting of topnotch romantic suspense, Brennan's effort should provide adequate escapist fare for fans of the genre. (March) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780786286591
  • Publisher: Gale Group
  • Publication date: 8/2/2006
  • Series: Predator Thriller Series , #3
  • Edition description: Large Print Edition
  • Pages: 531
  • Product dimensions: 5.60 (w) x 8.50 (h) x 1.10 (d)

Meet the Author

Allison Brennan is the author of ten bestselling romantic thrillers, including The Prey, Speak No Evil, Killing Fear, and Playing Dead. For thirteen years she worked as a consultant in the California State Legislature before leaving to devote herself fully to her family and writing. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Mystery Writers of America, and International Thriller Writers. She lives in Northern California with her husband, Dan, and their five children.
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Read an Excerpt

The Kill

A Novel

By Allison Brennan
Ballantine Books
Copyright © 2006

Allison Brennan
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9780345485236

Chapter One

Twelve Years Later

Nick Thomas stared at the outline of the petite body under the blinding yellow tarp. He pinched the bridge of his nose, swallowing anger so bitter he could taste it. The foul stench of death surrounded him and he turned away. 

He still pictured the dead, broken body of twentyyear- old Rebecca Douglas as he’d found her only an hour ago. 


Nick looked up as Deputy Lance Booker approached. He was clean-cut, a good cop, though a mite wet behind the ears. Much like Nick had been twelve years ago when he’d been called out to his first murder scene. 


“Jim said there’s a guy claiming to be an FBI agent at the road wanting to be let through. Quincy Peterson.” Quinn. Nick hadn’t seen him in years, ten to be exact, but they’d shared an e-mail relationship since he was elected sheriff more than three years ago. After the Croft sisters had been found. 

Now there were seven dead girls. Seven that they knew about. 

“Let him through.” 

“Yes, sir.” Booker frowned, but relayed the orders through his walkie-talkie. In matters thatwould as a rule fall under their local jurisdiction, no law officer welcomed outside interference, and usually Nick was no different. He didn’t mention that it was his call to Quinn last week that precipitated this visit. 

Nick turned and walked away from the deputy, away from the bright tarp, down the path to where Rebecca Douglas’s last steps were evident. He squatted next to an unusable footprint, a mess in wet, hardening mud. It might have been Rebecca’s last step. Or the killer’s. It had rained nearly three inches in the last two days, a deluge that saturated a ground recently recovered from a cold, wet Montana winter. The clouds had broken this morning, the sky such a vivid blue and the air so refreshing that Nick would have enjoyed it if he hadn’t been called to a crime scene. 

He closed his eyes and breathed the clean, crisp air of his Gallatin Valley. He loved Montana, the vast beauty and sheer majesty of its mountains, its swift rivers, green valleys, big sky. The people were good, too, down-toearth. They cared about their neighbors, took care of their own. When Rebecca Douglas was declared missing, hundreds of men and women–many from the university where she’d been a student–had scoured the wilderness between Bozeman and Yellowstone looking for her. 

Nick’s jaw tightened in restrained fury. Good people, but for one. One who had killed Rebecca and at least six other women in the past fifteen years. And other women were still missing. Would they ever find their bodies?  Had the harsh Montana weather or four-legged animals obliterated their remains? He’d never forget finding Penny Thompson’s remains–nothing but a skull and scattered bones. She was identified through her dental records. 

Nick surveyed the area. Tall pines grew primarily downslope; as the mountain rose the trees thinned out. The ancient, heavily overgrown road he’d driven on was unmapped. Possibly an old logging trail, it appeared to end here, in this natural clearing roughly thirty feet square. On the edge of this clearing, Rebecca’s body lay. They’d mark off the area in grids and search for anything that might possibly lead back to the killer. But if it was the same bastard, they’d find nothing. He was so damn perfect in his every crime that even their one surviving witness could tell them little. Defeat weighed heavily in Nick’s heart, but he would not give up. Sometimes, he hated his job. 

He turned when he heard an SUV roll into the clearing, rocks and muddy clumps of leaves shooting out from the backs of all four tires. Sun reflected off the windshield and Nick shielded his eyes to watch Quinn approach. 

The SUV jerked to a stop behind Nick’s dark green police-issue truck. The driver’s door opened and Quincy Peterson jumped out, slamming the door behind him and striding toward Nick. Quinn hadn’t changed much since Nick had last seen him, still looked more like a damn cover model than a fifteen-year veteran of the FBI. Nick stood and absently brushed the dirt off his jeans. 

“Rebecca Douglas?” Quinn nodded toward the covered body. His face was blank, but his dark eyes revealed the same anger and sadness that Nick felt. 

“Yep. We’ll need a positive ID, but–” There was no doubt it was the missing woman. He glanced at Quinn and raised an eyebrow at the bandage over his left eye. 

“Bar fight?” he asked, half joking. 

Quinn reached up and touched the bandage as if he’d forgotten it was there. “The last few days have been eventful,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it later.” He glanced around. “When are you processing the scene?” “I wanted you to check it out first, but I have my men waiting up on the main highway.” 

Nick didn’t know why the Fed made him feel so inferior. Maybe it had something to do with Quinn’s quiet confidence, his knack for seeing through bullshit, always getting to the heart of the matter. Or maybe it was because Nick had puked his guts out at his first murder scene and Quincy Peterson hadn’t. 

Or maybe it was because the woman Nick loved was in love with Quinn. 

Despite all that, there was no one Nick trusted more than Special Agent Quincy Peterson. 

Quinn bent down, pulled on latex gloves, and lifted the tarp. His square jaw clenched and a vein twitched in his neck at the sight. 

Rebecca had been beautiful. Now, her long blonde hair was tangled, matted, and caked in mud. The happy face reproduced on thousands of flyers was gone. She was swollen, bruised, grotesque in death. The recent rains had cleaned some of the dirt from her naked body, leaving her pale and blue. 

Her neck had been cut, slashed deep with a sharp knife, though there was very little blood to see. Most of it had been washed into the ground by the storm, along with any trace evidence. Her body showed signs of abuse. Torture. Bruises of all shapes and hues of purple covered her skin. Her breasts had been clamped into some sort of vise. The strange marks wouldn’t have in- dicated that to most eyes, but both Nick and Quinn had read the coroner’s reports for each of the six other women murdered in these woods, and had grown familiar with this killer’s M.O. 

Quinn removed the tarp to study the victim’s legs and feet, much as Nick had done when he first arrived on scene. Her left leg was crooked, broken. Her feet were covered in raw blisters and deep cuts. From running. She was thin, so pale, empty. Clinically, her gaunt skin told the cops that she’d bled out, her life drained from her. She’d died quickly; nobody could survive long with their carotid artery sliced open. Small consolation for the previous week of terror she’d lived through. Quinn covered the body. “Coroner been called?” Nick nodded. “He’ll be out by noon. He was in the middle of an autopsy on that hiker we found up on the north ridge the other day.” 

“So who found the body?” 

“Three boys–the McClain brothers and Ryan Parker. The Parkers have a spread three, four miles west of here. The boys took a couple horses for the day, were going to shoot their .22s at rabbits and whatnot.” He shrugged and added, “It’s Saturday.” 

“Where are they now?” 

“A deputy took them home. Told them to sit tight at the Parkers’ until I came by.” 

Quinn nodded, surveying the scene that Nick had marked with yellow and black crime scene tape. Observing the clearing, the old path, the trees. 

“It looks like she came up through that brush over there,” Nick gestured. “I checked it out, but didn’t go down the trail yet.” 

“If you can call it a trail,” Quinn said, frowning at the overgrowth. “I’ll take a quick look while you call in your team. How many people do you have?” 

“I have a dozen of my own men right now, more later, and a crime scene specialist. I’ll need volunteers if we’re going to do this right.” 

“Agreed. The more eyes the better, but no hotshots. We can’t have someone going off half-cocked.” Quinn put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I know you were hoping the bastard dropped dead after Ellen and Elaine Croft were found. I’m sorry I couldn’t come out personally then. But Agent Thorne is good. She would have found something.” 

Nick agreed, but he still felt so damn helpless. The Butcher was the only bastard who had ever gotten away  with murder under his watch. “It’s been three frickin’ years! Three years since he killed. And we had nothing then–no clues, no leads, no suspects.” 

“And there are other girls missing.” Quinn didn’t need to remind him. The missing girls haunted Nick in his sleep. 

“It’s been slow, but we’re gathering evidence,” Quinn continued. “We have casings, bullets, a partial from Elaine Croft’s locket. We’ll get him.” Quinn turned and Nick watched him walk down the path. He sounded so confident. Why couldn’t Nick feel the same? 

He glanced down at the outline of Rebecca Douglas. At least she would have a proper burial. Closure for her family. But not for him. 

He thought of Miranda. 

He started toward his truck. He’d already put in the call for all available law enforcement to head to this location. Then he heard the unique but familiar sound of a Jeep bouncing over the rough trail. He didn’t need to see the vehicle to know who approached. 


The red Jeep jerked to a stop behind Peterson’s rental. Almost before the truck halted, Miranda Moore jumped out, the mud no match for her heavy boots and confident stride. Deputy Booker approached her, and she glared at him without stopping as she pulled a red down-filled vest over her black flannel shirt. In any other situation, Nick would have grinned at the way Booker backed off. 

Then she focused her sharp blue eyes on him. His heart quickened and his stomach lurched. If only he’d had more time to prepare for her inevitable arrival. If he’d been warned she was on her way, he could have steeled himself for the confrontation. 

“Miranda,” he said as she approached, “I–” 

“Damn you, Nick!” She poked a finger at his chest. 

“Damn you!” Nothing intimidated Miranda. Though she was tall for a woman–at least five-foot-nine–he had six inches and a hundred pounds on her. You’d think he’d intimidate her, that any man would frighten her after what she’d gone through, but he guessed he shouldn’t be surprised. She was a survivor. She didn’t expose her fear. 

“Miranda, I was going to call you. I didn’t know for certain it was Rebecca. I didn’t want you to have to go through it again.” 

Her darkening eyes told him she didn’t believe him. 

“Screw that. Screw you! You promised you’d call.” She brushed past him and strode over to the tarp, staring at the covered body. Her fists clenched, her shoulders reverberated in tension. 

Nick wanted to stop her, to protect her from seeing another dead girl. Most of all, he wanted to protect her from herself. 

And she’d always been perfectly clear that she didn’t want Nick’s protection. 

Miranda worked to control her temper. She shouldn’t have yelled at Nick, but dammit! He’d promised. For seven days she’d been searching for Rebecca, the nightmares destroying the few hours of sleep she allowed herself. He’d promised she’d be the first to know when they found her. 

Neither she nor Nick had expected to find Rebecca alive. 

She stared at the sunny tarp in the middle of the quiet earth tones of the land and inhaled sharply, her throat raw with hot anger and unwanted ice-cold fear. Her fists squeezed into tight balls, her nails digging into her palms. She knew it was Rebecca Douglas. But she had to see for herself, force herself to look at the Butcher’s latest victim. For strength, for courage. 

For vengeance. 

She pulled latex gloves over her long fingers, knelt beside the still woman, and fingered the edge of the tarp. 

“Rebecca,” she said, her voice a whisper, “you’re not alone. I promise you I’ll find him. He’ll pay for what he did to you.” 

She swallowed, hesitated, then drew back the tarp to reveal the girl she’d been searching for, twenty hours a day for the last week. 

At first, Miranda didn’t see the swollen face, the slit throat, or the many cuts washed clean by the rain. The image of the twenty-year-old in Miranda’s mind was beautiful, as she had been when she was alive. 

Rebecca had a contagious laugh, according to her best friend, Candi. Rebecca cared about those less fortunate and volunteered one night a week reading to the infirm at Deaconess, according to her career counselor, Ron Owens. A straight-A student, Rebecca had wanted to be a veterinarian, according to her biology teacher, Greg Marsh. 

Rebecca hadn’t been perfect. But no one had shared the less attractive stories while she’d been missing. No one would ever repeat them now that she was dead. 

As Miranda watched, the image of Rebecca she’d held so close to her heart during the hours and hours of searching morphed into the broken body before her. 

“You’re free,” she told her. “Free at last.” 

Sharon. I’m so sorry. 

“No one can hurt you anymore.” 

She reached over and touched Rebecca’s hair, brushed a matted piece to the side, cupped her cheek. Stay in control. 

She repeated her mantra. How many times would she have to go through this? How many dead girls would they bury? She’d thought it would get easier. But if she didn’t keep her emotions tight and protected, she feared she’d collapse under the enormity of the Butcher’s continued success–and her own failure to stop him. 

She eased the tarp over Rebecca’s face, hating to do it. The act of covering the body reminded Miranda of the other dead girls they’d found. Of Sharon. 

The morning Miranda led them to Sharon’s body was so cold she shivered constantly under the half-dozen layers of clothing she wore. She’d wanted to return the day after she’d been rescued, but she hadn’t been allowed to leave the hospital. When she tried walking on her own, her damaged feet had failed her. 

She’d been too numb to cry, too tired to argue. She mapped out the location as best she could remember, but the search team couldn’t find Sharon. 

Miranda couldn’t bear the thought of her friend’s
 body exposed for yet another night. Leaving her to the grizzlies and cougars and vultures. So the following morning she withstood the pain in her legs and led the search team and law enforcement back to where Sharon lay. She had to see her one last time. 

She might have been in shock; that’s what the doctors said. But she walked with help. She knew where Sharon had fallen, would never forget it. She brought them to the spot, and there Sharon lay. Exactly how she’d fallen when the killer shot her. 

Silence filled the air, birds and animals mourning with the humans. Even the spring wind held its breath; not one leaf rustled as everyone finally grasped exactly what had happened to Miranda and Sharon. 

The sudden cry of a hawk split the stillness, and the wind gently blew. 

The medic covered Sharon’s body with a bright green plastic tarp while the sheriff’s team started searching for evidence. Miranda couldn’t stop staring at the tarp. Sharon was dead underneath it, reduced to a lump under a sheet of plastic. So wrong, so inhuman! It was then that Miranda had first broken down and cried. 

An FBI agent carried her the three miles back to the road. His name was Quincy Peterson.


Excerpted from The Kill by Allison Brennan Copyright © 2006 by Allison Brennan. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 36 )
Rating Distribution

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 36 Customer Reviews
  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    fast-paced character driven investigative tale

    Olivia ¿Livie¿ St. Martin tries to stop the man with the blue bird on his arm from abducting her older sister Melissa, but he just slaps the little girl away and throws Missy inside his black truck. As he drives off, Livie¿s parents hearing her screams race outside, but they are too late. Her mom hugs Olivia, but that was the last squeeze she ever received from her. --- Over three decades later, Olivia is Director of Trace Evidence and Materials Analysis at the FBI lab in Virginia when her former husband Dr. Greg van Burns informs her that the DNA of the man she testified abducted her sibling, Brian Harrison Hall, does not match a hair found on Missy¿s corpse. Hall is freed while Livie is stunned as the only thing that relieved her survival guilt was the conviction of her sibling¿s rapist-killer. Needing to learn the truth, she breaks office procedures by leaving the lab to do field work. Olivia quickly finds evidence that a serial killer is loose and has been for years his last known victim in Seattle where she teams up with workaholic Police Detective Zack Travis to stop a clever psychopath and to figure out who killed Missy. --- THE KILL is a fast-paced character driven investigative tale starring a stunned heroine who knows the irony that her field of expertise exonerated Hall. The romance between Livie and Zack seems somewhat forced, as the investigation takes front and center as the crime lab guru and the homicide detective follow clues that take several intriguing twists. Fans of police procedurals with an overwrought obsessed star will want to read Allison Brennan¿s fine thriller and seek her two previous FBI tales (See THE PREY and THE HUNT). --- Harriet Klausner

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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

    Posted July 6, 2014

    Great book

    Couldnt put it down, looking forward to reading more by thus author

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted September 6, 2013

    you won't want to put the book down

    I kept reading it until I finished it, could not put it down. Excellent.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted August 8, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    Overall Rating: 4.85 // Action: 4.0 / Emotion: 4.7 / Romance: 4.

    Overall Rating: 4.85 // Action: 4.0 / Emotion: 4.7 / Romance: 4.5 / Sensuous: 3.0 / Suspense: 4.0 // Laughter: 1 // Tears: 6 / Teary: 1
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    The Kill: 4.85:
    An un-put-down-able, re-read-able book because: {1} Allison Brennan is a favorite author; {2} Romantic Suspense is a favorite sub-genre; and {3} Brennan is a very talented storyteller who can quickly draw her readers into a romantic and suspenseful story and keep their interest all the way through the book.  Except that this story went on a bit too long after the exciting 'this should have been the big finale' scene.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Hero: 4.0:
    Zack Thomas: A Seattle Homicide Detective who is sexy, protective, caring, confident, determined and every romance reader's dream come true:
    " . . . If there was one thing Zack Travis knew, it was women.  When to touch.  Where to touch.  How to touch.  (page 79) . . . "
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Heroine: 4.5:
    Olivia St. Martin: The strong-willed, intelligent director of Trace Evidence and Materials Analysis at FBI's Virginia-based laboratory who hides her compassion, obsession, and determination behind a façade of ice.  It was easy to identify with Olivia and understand her emotional angst.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Story Line: 5.0:
    What an exciting premise around which to revolve a story.  A little girl loses her big sister to a killer and from that moment on her life is never the same.  Through science, she is driven to find justice for all victims of crime.  When she finds out she helped incarcerate an innocent man for killing her sister, she stops at nothing to find the actual killer.  She poses as an FBI Agent to insert herself into the Seattle Police Department's investigation of a serial killer -- believing him to be the man who killed her sister.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Action: 4.0:
    The story begins to soar as Zack and Olivia head up the investigation into The Seattle Slayer.  The action in this book, however, is more in the line of police procedural events than exciting adventurous scenes such as car chases and the like.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Emotion: 4.7:
    Brennan is amazing as she weaves such deep emotion into a story about a monster.  The emotion in this story is rich for several reasons. {1} Who cannot help but hate a serial killer who rapes and kills little girls?  {2} Brennan richly details the devastation that the families of the slain girls experience -- concentrating on Olivia's crumbling steel walls of control.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Romance: 4.5:
    The awareness that arched between Zack and Olivia was never left in doubt.  Zack was attracted to Olivia in spite of the "don't touch" signals she broadcast.  Olivia's walls of emotional protection began to collapse and a deep romantic connection built as she spent more time with Zack.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Sensuous: 3.0:
    Brennan knows how to include spice, heat, passion and emotion in her love scenes.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Suspense: 4.0:
    The suspense was constant and became more intense as the story progressed.  Brennan painted such a complex, controlled, astute picture of The Seattle Slayer and his ability to evade detection, that she had readers wondering how Zack, Olivia and their team were going to catch this slippery predator.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    Secondary Characters: 4.5:
    Brennan seems to really get into the heads of her supporting characters.  She did a phenomenal job of making both The Seattle Slayer (the true villain) and Brian Harrison Hall (the circumstantial villain) very multi-faceted.  Although not as well developed as these two men, the other supporting characters in the book came to life with concise descriptions and minimal appearances.  It was nice to get a picture of Quinn and Miranda Peterson's future when they were included in the story.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
    See Wolf Bear Does Books for a more in-depth, detailed review of *The Kill*.
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 12, 2013

    Great read

    I loved this book. I like suspense books and this was definitely a page-turner. I haven't read the first two books of this series but I plan to.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 21, 2012




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  • Posted January 11, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Loved it

    Great book! I loved this book, kept me on the edge of my seat. Allison can really entertain her readers. Highly recommend this trilogy if you like this genre. The sex scenes between Zack and Olivia were hot.

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  • Posted January 1, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    34 Years Wasted

    Olivia St. Martin was only five years old when her world fell apart. Her older sister, Missy, was kidnapped from the park they were playing at one autumn day. Missy never came back. Olivia's mother eventually commits suicide. Her father becomes a shell of a man. Olivia is left to pick herself up and try to move on the best she can. Little Olivia St. Martin grows up and becomes the director of trace evidence for the FBI. Olivia believes she has achieved success. Her life is neat and orderly. Then the man she sent to prison is released based on DNA testing. He was not Missy's killer.<BR/><BR/>Zack Travis is a Seattle detective who has a serial killer on his hands. This serial killer kidnaps beautiful blonde little girls, sexually assaults them and then dumps their bodies in a public place for someone else to find. He doesn't want the Feds help on his case but he wants to stop this madman even more.<BR/><BR/>Zack and Olivia work hard to catch the creep who has killed over 30 little girls. On the way to justice, Olivia comes to mean so much more to Zack than just another cop. But can Olivia let down her guard enough to realize true love is knocking?<BR/><BR/>The Kill is the third book in Allison Brennan's debut series. The Kill had an interesting plot. A man is convicted of kidnapping and sexually assaulting a young girl based on circumstantial evidence and a child's testimony. But they were wrong and an innocent man has sat in prison for 34 years while the real killer has been free all that time. This was my 2nd favorite in the series. Both Zack and Olivia are haunted by a past neither one of them could control. This was a nice book to escape to because the good guys always win, but you're never quite sure until the end.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 15, 2006

    The Kill - the best for last

    The trilogy started with The Prey, continued with The Hunt, and finished with The Kill. Allison Brennan saved the best for last with The Kill. Olivia is a flesh-and-blood, three dimensional character. Her trials and tribulations are real and heart-wrenching. When she realizes that her testimony has allowed a killer to go free for 30 years she will stop at nothing to see him brought to justice. Her career and life are put on the line as she does her all to catch a killer. She is aided in her pursuit by a Seattle cop, Zack Travis. She falls into danger and into love. Brennan finishes up this trilogy with a bang.

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    Posted December 18, 2009

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    Posted May 27, 2009

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