About George Thompson
Location: Missouri
Occupation: Writer
Bio: Bio I was born in the small town of Ironton, Missouri in the mid-40s. My father was a minister and my mother was the devoted pastor’s wife. We moved when I was three to Kansas City where Dad pastored several churches, then moved to Fulton in 1960 where I graduated from Fulton High School in 1962. Dad was pastor at the Southside Baptist Church from 1960 through 1967. It was during those teenage years that I started writing poetry, articles, short stories and novels. Many poems were of a “grim” nature because I was usually either frustrated or felt depressed when I wrote them. Further in-depth study of myself helped me to see matters in a different, more enlightened way and gave me a much greater peace Bio of mind. That feeling came about when I realized that a Higher Power held control over my life and although I felt free here on earth to explore many things because God gave me the mind to make my own decisions based on the “terms” I had set for myself it was I who set the terms and levels of frustration and worry. Once I turned everything over to God, my writings became more positive and that feeling of emptiness I once had was lifted. My faith in God and the good intentions of mankind grows daily. I believe in the power of words, whether they are written, spoken or through the motions and spelling in sign language. They can be used to empower or defeat, accept or deny. My poetry is just one of many means of communicating. Retired now, I make my home in Ironton once again after being gone for sixty years. I write a poem every day, an article or two a week and have a continuing column at wickedwordsmith.com on the Web. My pleasures are writing, feeding birds and taking care of my new cat, Mandi.
Posts: 146
More from this author
An old cemetery, an old church, a day when you can see your breath, a man waiting. A man waiting, thinking to himself, “When’s she going to show up?” and what do you have? The start of a murder plot in the first chapter told to us by the killer himself. She’s only fourteen and he is much older and wiser, leading her into the sanctuary and up the narrow stairs behind the organ pipes to her doom. He had told her, “Die. Die with me. Be mine forever.” Some parishioners found her hours later crumpled in a heap by the altar, blood all around her and it was assumed by the police and medical examiner that she fell to her death from the balcony above. Thus begins an intensive investigation into her death and the search for her killer as well.
Detective Mark Tartaglia is in charge of the investigation and his team must wade through wrong turns in the investigation and follow any leads they can get. The investigators rule the case a suicide and start to close the case. But, they learn from a witness that the fourteen year girl was not alone, had been seen kissing a much older man, and entered the church with this man. This means their case is still open and the young girl did not necessarily jump to her death as first supposed; she could have been pushed or she could have mistakenly fallen off the railing.
Tartaglia’s team interviews the girl’s father without much success and searching the girl’s room gives no real clues to the mystery that deepens instead of coming to a close. And just when the investigative team thinks it has all the clues, the killer strikes again: another young girl whose life is snuffed out prematurely. Two clues come to the surface as the team continues to investigate: each victim is a lonely girl and the killer loves to kill at dangerous heights. Tartaglia realizes he has a serial killer on his hands and must connect all the clues together before the killer can strike again and they can bring him to ground.
This is taut writing at its best for a “first book” writer, Elena Forbes. She grew up in London and uses the city as a backdrop for her adventure into the mind of a psychopath. Die With Me is a must read for mystery lovers as well as readers of other genre of books. I couldn’t put the book down and neither will you until you’ve read the last page.
