Booked All Night: MURDER NOTES BY LISA RENEE JONES

New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones’s heart-pounding thriller of a woman’s secrets—and a past that’s about to come out of hiding…

As an FBI profiler, it’s Lilah Love’s job to think like a killer. And she is very good at her job. When a series of murders surface—the victims all stripped naked and shot in the head—Lilah’s instincts tell her it’s the work of an assassin, not a serial killer. But when the case takes her back to her hometown in the Hamptons and a mysterious but unmistakable connection to her own life, all her assumptions are shaken to the core.

Thrust into a troubled past she’s tried to shut the door on, Lilah’s back in the town where her father is mayor, her brother is police chief, and she has an intimate history with the local crime lord’s son, Kane Mendez. The two share a devastating secret, and only Kane understands Lilah’s own darkest impulses. As more corpses surface, so does a series of anonymous notes to Lilah, threatening to expose her. Is the killer someone in her own circle? And is she the next target?

Lisa Renee Jones books are tough to review. They are so good, and so well written, that I want to say so much...but, so much is a spoiler. And, the things I think are obvious might just be something that another reader doesn't see coming.

I want more Lilah. I want more of her with Kane. I want to know what is going on, I want all the answers, and I want them NOW. I am not good at waiting, and when a book is well written, and well constructed, with interesting characters and then a cliffhanger, you find yourself wanting more, and wanting the next book as soon as possible.

Lilah is an interesting character, and you want to know more about her, and what is going on, and what she doesn't yet know about the things that are clearly going on in her hometown.

I enjoyed this title, I recommend it, and i am looking forward to the next in the series.

“This is getting us nowhere. Go home, Kane!” And I don’t wait for his reply. I start running for the house, my hair and clothes drenched by the time I yank open the sliding glass door and rush inside, but when I turn to shut the door behind me, Kane shoves his way in, sealing us inside. “I said go the fuck home, Kane.”

“Not yet,” he says, shackling my arm and walking into me as he pulls me closer, his hand releasing my arm to move to my spine, the other at the back of my head. “And in case you didn’t get that. Let me speak your language. Not fucking yet.” His mouth closes down on mine, and
he is kissing me, his tongue stroking long against mine. The taste of him is familiar in a way no one else would understand. It’s dirty. It’s sexy. It’s that addictive danger that is Kane Mendez. It’s a man who I do know would have killed for me, and I wanted him to. Oh God. I wanted him to.