Title: JOE
Author: H.D. Gordon
Blurb:
Joe Knowe is not a boy. She is twenty-one years old, and she sees things before they happen; bad things, and the worst thing she has ever faced is just around the corner. A madman is going to shoot up the college Joe attends. The trouble is, her gift is stingy on the details she needs to divert the impending tragedy. Now, Joe has four days to figure out the mystery and save the lives of many.
From the author of The Alexa Montgomery Saga comes a tense tale that glimpses the mind of a genuine psychopath, follows an unlikely hero, and explores real-life terror in a race against time that will leave the reader breathless.
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My Review:
Prepare yourselves to become completely immersed in this book!! There are so many thrilling characters events, plot twists and pure excitement you'll be blown away!!! Joe is not your typical college student, she has an unusual um......gift?? Joe has the ability to see things before they ever happen. Now she must use her powers to help save others and the clock is ticking and time is her enemy! To make matters worse, Joe must take a peek into the mind of a psychopath and learn to trust a very unusual ally. Now Joe must risk her life in order to save others. The question is will she take the risk???
Prologue:
The Decider
It was a Monday.
The worst days are typically Mondays. But this one was all right.
Different, sure, but all right. He’d made plans for today. He’d not only made plans,
but acquired the artillery to back them up. Put them into action. Bang-Bang.
One song had played on a continuous loop in his apartment for the
past three days.
Can’t wait for Monday…
He didn’t much care for music. Never really had, but this
particular song amused him. Perhaps would have comforted him. If he were
able to feel any emotion required to be in need of comfort.
I’ll be feeling all right…
He couldn’t wait to see their faces, to watch as they fled and
cowered in fear. In fear of him. The thought of it all made his heart
leap in his chest. And, oh, what a wonderful sensation that was. Potent. They
should fear him. Hell yeah, they should. He could take his pick, and he
would. They just didn’t know it yet, which was great, because they would know
soon. They would know today.
Can’t wait for Monday…
He drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the tune,
but had no mind of doing so. He was excited. Such a rare, beautiful thing this
was, this excitement. The anticipation of it all, all his plans coming
to life, of all their….faces. He bet some would try to beg, and wouldn’t
that be amusing, to watch them crawl at his feet? They would know in that
wonderful moment right before he ended their worthless existences that he
had made the Decision.
You’ll be in my sights...
He reached down and brushed his fingers across the semi-automatic
pistol sitting atop the passenger seat. It was the smallest of the lot, but his
favorite. His baby. In the end, it would relieve him of his existence as
well, but oh, the wonders the two of them will have seen together. He thought
about what they would say in the news about him and his…Decisions. Lunatic,
gunman, madman… massacre.
The last was his favorite.
If things went according to plan he may be able to take out a
hundred, hundred-fifty people. If the bombs he’d built went according to plan
he would take out many more. Hundreds. He dared to dream even thousands
as he cruised down Highway 71 toward the Wilker campus of the University of
Midwest Missouri State. UMMS for short. He hated that. Stupid fucking acronym. Man,
he hoped his bombs worked. He’d followed the instructions on the internet as
precisely as he could manage, but wiring the timers on the damn things had been
tricky. It didn’t really matter, though. He would watch them fall to him either
way.
In fact, he knew just what they would do.
They would be heartbroken and crying to their mommies. They would
light candles and say prayers and mutter condolences, like any of them were
even intelligent enough to give a shit about another worthless human being. The
police chief and reporters would call him a madman, a psychopath, a murderer.
They would analyze the video journals and poetry he left scattered about his
apartment. And they won’t learn a damn thing. Because that’s how fucking stupid
they were.
Oh, and there would be a body count. If things went according to
plan, if the rockets’ red glared and bombs burst in the air, they would stamp
his Decisions in the book of records.
The worst massacre in the history of the U-ni-ted States of
Amer-i-ca.
The thought made his heart soar.
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