Please help me welcome Author T.K. Harris to my blog today!
Book Title: Phantom Dreams
Author: T.K. Harris
Release Date: June 7th
Genre: Mystery Thriller
Length: 81,956 words, 273 pages
Publisher: GMTA Publishing LLC
Presented by: As You Wish Tours
Cover Design by: Benjamin Poelman and Tipping Point
FBI Special Agent Jack Matthews finds himself on yet another serial killer case, having barely
recovered from the last disastrous hunt. Still stiff from a gun shot wound in his leg, under
investigation for a botched job, and having lost his fiancée when she walked out on him, Jack is
beginning to wonder if it isn’t time to move on to something new. But, for Jack, these cases are
Marketing specialist Kathy Gilliam leads a fairly boring life. If she’s not working or caring for
her ailing father, then she is doing whatever it takes to avoid going anywhere near crowds of
people. Her few distractions include her friend Margo Longfellow, occasional hiking trips, and
her increasingly alarming dreams of women dying.
As her nightmares cause her to begin to doubt her sanity, the media releases news of the “Coastto-Coast Killer” and Kathy discovers her dreams may be related. In a moment of panic, Kathy
does something that places her on the FBI’s “persons of interest” list. Suddenly, her life is set
on a collision course with Jack who must decide if Kathy is the killer or destined to become a
EXCERPTS
The woman faltered at the sight of him, her eyes widening. She stopped, then turned to run
back the way she had come. He raced after her, following the white puffs of her breath. But
despite his effort, the distance between them increased.
The voice screamed at him. Faster!
He saw her turn her head to look back and then go down hard as her foot caught on
something. She was still struggling to extract her foot and ankle from a tree root when he caught
up. Raising her hands, she looked at him with tear-filled eyes. "Please. D-don't!"
He felt his face twist. How dare she? Snarling, he demanded, "Why did you do it?"
Not waiting for an answer, he raised his weapon and lunged, watching with satisfaction as her
perplexed, fearful gaze changed to reflect her pain. His pain. He heard her gasp, still pleading,
until she finally fell forward into a pool of her own dark blood.
The night deepened and gradually grew quieter until he could hear only the beating of his heart
and the noise of the wildlife around him. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes reveling in the
sharp scents of pine and blood. He listened for a moment longer, but when no other sounds
Kathy Gilliam bolted up in bed with the echo of her own screams dying in her ears. Her chest
tightened and she tried to draw a breath.
Fear. Someone screaming. She was screaming. No. Someone else. Someone running ...
For a moment, panic set in.
Kathy took deep, shuddering breaths until the tightness in her chest began to relax. She looked
around, still disoriented. Then a different panic seized.
Turning quickly to the digital clock by her bedside, she noted that the ever failing Atlanta
power had managed to remain on during the night. It was five a.m. She hadn't overslept again.
Drawing another deep breath, she tried to shake off the vestiges of yet another nightmare, the
same one that had been haunting her on and off for years. Though she could recall little detail,
it was the eyes she always remembered. They were always different and yet the same in their
Deciding she would not be able to get back to sleep, she rose and went into the kitchen to
make coffee before heading to the bathroom for a long shower.
As she stepped out of the shower, Kathy felt the last images of her dream fading. Slipping on
the long terry cloth robe that swallowed her small, five-foot-two frame, she reached for a towel
to clean the condensation from the mirror and began applying her makeup. Though paler than
normal, her olive skin looked well enough to skip the base and she decided to apply only liner
and mascara to her dark brown eyes and a little blush. As the steam started to fog the mirror
once more, Kathy reached for the bathroom door when she caught the glimpse of a strange,
Her hand froze on the knob. As she watched, the face quickly became obscured with steam.
Shaking her head, she reached for the towel to clear the mirror and found only her own wideeyed image reflected back at her. Kathy flung the door open, shivering from the sudden draft,
and turned to finish her makeup. Obviously, her sleep-deprived mind was playing tricks on her.
Finished, she pulled her still wet, brown hair into a ponytail and headed to the bedroom to dress.
Wishing she could have just one night that was dream and worry free,
Sweat poured down his face, plastering his dark brown hair to his head before quickly cooling
in the chill evening air. FBI Special Agent Jack Matthews turned the corner heading for home,
thoughts of what could be his next case pounding in time to the rhythm of his feet. Five women
stabbed and left to die, all within a four or five year period, spanning four states. They had
stumbled across the homicides while working on another case, but were still trying to determine
if the deaths were connected. If they were, they would be adding another serial killer to their
His stride faltered as an old wound in his upper right thigh tightened, a departing gift from the
last killer he had dealt with. That monster had killed eight women before Jack and another agent
had cornered him. But they hadn't seen the gun, their eyes having been focused on the terrified
woman the killer held, a knife pressing against her neck.
Jack could still see the trickle of scarlet glistening in the fluorescent light where the killer's
knife had grazed her. It was an image forever frozen in his mind, the last thing he saw before a
wave of fire ripped through his leg. His partner took a round in the chest before Jack was able to
The street lamps illuminated the white clouds of his breath as Jack stepped it up, arms and
legs pumping faster, trying to forget her face. Her name had been Elizabeth Brue.
The rhythm beat itself into his brain as he gritted his teeth and ran faster. With the report of
his Glock-22 still echoing in the air, Jack had watched her body sliding toward the floor, her
throat slit. Ten seconds spread into a lifetime as he watched Elizabeth's eyes glaze over, her fear
and accusation forever frozen in Death's immortal hold.
He and his partner had received commendations for their bravery. But all he could remember
was Elizabeth's funeral and the wail of her two-month-old son cutting through the still morning
And now it looked as if he would once again be chasing a monster.
He hadn't meant to kill her. No. No. No. Tom stared down at the woman, first turning his
head one way and then another, fascinated by the way the moonlight glinted against the blood
pooling out around her. He was just angry, but Tom didn't understand why. He just really
wanted to get away, go back home. It had been so long since Tom had been home.
Stepping over the body, he walked forward, trying to decide where he had brought Tom this
time. They were in an alleyway. Across the street, he could see what looked like a hospital or
doctor's office of some kind. But what city? What state?
Tennessee, the man in his head told him.
Yes. Yes. Still Tennessee. Hmm. Why are we here?
To find the girl, remember?
Right. The girl. Woman actually. Tom turned around and looked at the woman on the
ground, the full moon shining clearly on her face. It's not her, he thought.
Tom winced at the pain in his head, wishing he would just go away. But he wouldn't. Even
before Tom had killed his mother all those years ago, the man had been in his head, slowly
taking more and more of his memory and control away. Hours and even days now passed that
He took another look at the mental image of the man in his head. Mr. Mustache, he called
him when Tom thought he wasn't listening. Tom had seen black and white pictures of men with
mustaches like his. The man looked to be Tom's age, but wore clothes he had never seen except
in movies. Why did he dress so weird?
Tom sighed, taking one last look at the dead woman before he started walking. In his mind,
he could still see the fear in her face. He smiled at the thought, looking around as he emerged
from the alleyway into the busy street. At least, they were in a city this time. Another thought
widened his smile. Maybe there was a Starbucks nearby!
He began to whistle as he crossed the road, remembering her screams
Shivering from the cold and feelings she could not identify, Kathy numbly followed the
small trail that ran through the dimly lit park. Oblivious to the growing darkness, she continued
walking. The same chant repeated over and over in her mind. It's not real. It's not real.
She collapsed near a park bench, holding her arms tightly to her chest and regretting that
she had not grabbed a jacket before she fled. Confusion reigned as her thoughts tumbled one
over another. This is ridiculous. Dreaming about women who were dead? That happened in
the movies, not in real life. When the initial shock had faded, reason set in. It was the picture
again. It had sparked her imagination and, abracadabra, instant recognition. She must have seen
a picture of Lisa Marks somewhere before. It was the only thing that made any sense.
Yes. That had to be right. She wanted to laugh. There was a logical explanation. Right?
But she was still afraid. Why was this happening to her in the first place? Am I losing it? Fear
overwhelmed Kathy, causing her shivers to violently increase. The thought of going crazy was
Time passed and the shadows deepened. By now she had calmed down enough to breathe
evenly, but still found herself shivering from the cold. Wearily, she began the trip back to the
hotel, somewhat surprised when she looked to see the hotel further in the distance than she
would have thought. Well, there's stupidity for you, she thought. Heading off into the night in a
strange park. It's official. I am losing it.
As she passed a light pole, the light began to flicker and then went out. Startled, she
continued on, telling herself to stay calm despite the fact that her heart was anything but. The
lights of the hotel blinked in the distance. Subconsciously, she picked up the pace. A prickle
at the back of her neck caused her to swivel her head, looking to see if she was being followed.
When she noticed no one, she continued on her way, but walking faster as the feeling grew.
Suddenly she was running, fleeing through the wooded park, branches tearing at her clothes.
T.K. Harris was born in California and lived a gypsy sort of life traveling the world as a military
brat. She has been writing since she was a child and as had several short stories published by
various magazines, including one in Woman's World. She currently lives and works in Colorado
as a Senior Solutions Architect and IT Instructor and has recently had her first novel, Phantom
Dreams, published. She is looking forward to her next two books, already outlined and partially
written. You can find out more at: http://www.tkharrisonline.com.
Please help me thank Author T.K. Harris & As You Wish Tours. Visit her website and buy a book!
Keep Writing!
Jodie Pierce
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