Page 145 of The Night Before (Savannah 1)

So I’m really lucky. I think I get to go back to Savannah for research on my next thriller, THE MORNING AFTER. That’s right, THE MORNING AFTER is the companion book to THE NIGHT BEFORE, the sequel with some of the same characters peppering the pages.

Let’s talk a little about THE MORNING AFTER. It stars Detective Pierce Reed and the frustrated reporter for the Savannah Sentinel, Nikki Gillette.

Nikki’s been looking for her big break for years. Tired of being relegated to the local society teas, spelling bees and school budget meetings, the daughter of Judge Ron Gillette is searching for a way to propel herself into the big time.

As far as Detective Reed is concerned, Nikki is a pain in the backside, always nosing around his investigations and this next one, a serial killer stalking the streets of Savannah is nothing for an amateur to be fooling with. This guy’s murders are bizarre and bone chilling. The killer has an agenda and it’s aimed straight at Reed. The last thing Detective Reed and the Savannah Police Department need is a nosy reporter poking around in their investigation.

Things go from bad to worse as the clues start to unravel the mystery and with a new mind-numbing terror, Reed discovers the killer’s true motives. No one is safe. Least of all, Nikki Gillette.

I hope you pick up a copy of THE MORNING AFTER which is now in bookstores. Some of the other characters you met here and in my previous books will appear. I’ve enclosed an excerpt for THE MORNING AFTER in the next few pages so check it out!

For some computer fun, log on to my website @ www.lisajackson.com for more information about THE NIGHT BFORE, THE MORNING AFTER and my other releases. I have contests running and also go to www.themysterymansion.com for some cool games and contests. Those of you who’ve read THE NIGHT BEFORE will have an edge when entering the contests as they are about the book. While you’re browsing the site, you’ll notice that www.themysterymansion.com home page is the computer replica of Oak Hill, the mansion in THE NIGHT BEFORE. Inside those decrepit doors are the lairs of some of my villains. So enter if you dare, sign my guest book, try to win a contest, and tell me what you think of the book.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed THE NIGHT BEFORE.

Keep reading!

Lisa Jackson

Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of Lisa Jackson’s next thriller THE MORNING AFTER

Prologue

Oh, God it was cold . . . so cold . . .

Bobbi Jo shivered.

And the silence. Deafening. She was . . . where?

Bobbi Jo’s eyes flew open.

It was dark. Airless.

Panic chiseled through her bones. This was wrong, all wrong. She tried to sit up but couldn’t move. Her forehead bumped against something hard and there were sides pressing her onto the bed . . . no, not a bed, something softer and spongier and squishy. Fear scorched her brain as the horrendous smell assailed her. She was squeezed into some kind of box.

A coffin?

God, no! That was impossible? This was all some kind of weird, macabre dream. That was it. That had to be it. But her blood was pumping frantically through her body. She tried to kick upward, to push, to climb out of this horrible confining space with its slick lining and . . . and . . . Jesus Christ, she was lying on something. Or someone!

A body? She was wedged into a coffin with a dead person?

“No!” she cried, screaming and clawing at the top of the coffin. Wildly, she tore at the smooth satin lining, her fingernails breaking, her skin ripping. The stench was overwhelming, the air so cold and thin . . . “Help me! Oh, God! Help me! Someone please!” she shrieked so loudly it echoed back at her ears. This had to be some kind of bizarre nightmare. And yet the pain in her fingertips, the blood flowing under her nails convinced her that she was living her own worst fear.

Horror strangled her and she thought she might pass out. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she kicked, and scratched, willing someone, anyone to help her out of this tomb of death.

But the darkness remained. The squishy body beneath her didn’t move and above her own screams she thought she heard the thud of dirt and stones being piled on top of this hideous coffin. “No! No!” she pounded, pleading and crying. “Let me out! Please, please!”

Who would do this to her?

Why . . . oh, God, why . . . who had she wronged so horribly? There were many, she realized as panic squeezed through her and her mind spun crazily to thoughts of the men in her life and to one in particular. Pierce Reed. Detective with the Savannah Police Department.

No . . . Reed wouldn’t do this to her, didn’t really know how deeply their lives were entwined, but some monster had trapped her here.

She began to shiver and weep.

“Let me out! Let me out,” she screamed, sobbing, her skin crawling with the

thought of the decomposing human that was her bed.

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