Book Spotlight (and a Giveaway!): Set in Stone by David James Warren

Welcome to the Blog + Review Tour for Set in Stone by David James Warren, hosted by JustRead Publicity Tours! Keep reading for an intriguing excerpt!

SET IN STONE
Series: The True Lies of Rembrandt Stone #4
Author: David James Warren
Publisher: TriStone Media
Release Date: August 10, 2021
Genre: Time Travel Detective Series

Trapped in time, he’ll have to use the past to fix the present.

Thirty-eight women. Dead. All the in the past. All because Detective Rembrandt Stone played with fate, and somewhere in time unleashed a serial killer. He can’t undo their deaths, not anymore, but the serial killer is still at large, twenty-four years later, and now it’s personal. Especially when the evidence points to the last person on anyone’s radar: Rembrandt himself.
Now he’ll have to use the clues from his pasts to track down the killer in the present.

But the killer is onto him and puts the one person Rembrandt loves in his cross hairs. Now, Rembrandt must outwit time to save the people he loves.

Because time is playing for keeps.

The fourth installment of the True Lies of Rembrandt Stone will have you holding your breath and leave you gasping for more.

The continuing adventures of Rembrandt Stone from the creative minds of James L. Rubart, Susan May Warren and newcomer David Curtis Warren, writing as DAVID JAMES WARREN.

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BOOKS IN THIS SERIES

CONNECT WITH REMBRANDT STONE: Website | Instagram

Maybe it’s the exhaustion that makes me sleep, or Eve’s warmth, but I tumble into sweet oblivion.

I land hard, however, in the middle of a familiar dream. You know the one—I’m on the ice in the middle of a lake. It’s the dead of winter, everything crisp and brown, cattails and marshland that edges the lake stiff under the brutal cold.

I can nearly feel it too—the cold that seeps into my pores, turns my body frozen. I’m shivering.

The ice is clear, thick and scarred with the carcasses of birds and branches caught in the freeze. A slight wind bullies the snow off it, catching in my eyes. They water.

And the wind. It’s moaning, a deep howl behind me, as if gathering.

In it, I hear a voice. Rembrandt. 

I feel I know that voice, but I can’t place it as I stand there, the wind filling my ears.

It’s then I hear a gunshot. A sharp report that scatters birds, spears the air.

Beneath my feet, a fissure has opened. I look down and the crack is webbing out.

Run. 

I scrabble over the ice toward shore, my rubber boots slipping, and I fall.

I catch myself on the ice with familiar red mittens. The ice spiders out in fractures under my grip. I scramble to my feet and keep running. But the shoreline has slipped away, reset.

I’m further than when I started. My breathing is labored now, and as the ice opens behind me, the water black and lethal, I am screaming.

Help! 

Because I know if I don’t keep running, the water will find me.

Pull me under.

I’ll disappear and never be found.

“Rem!”

The voice lifts from the shore and I thrash around, trying to find it.

“Rembrandt!”

I’ve fallen again, bracing myself on the ice, and look back.

The ice breaks open beneath me, and—

“Rem, wake up!”

The voice, a hand on my arm frees me and I gasp awake, my heart thundering, a cold sweat sheeting my body.

Eve is leaning over me, one elbow on the narrow mattress. “You’re dreaming.”

I press a fist to my forehead and stare at the ceiling. A thin shadow of golden-red light streaks across the ceiling through the blinds.

“Which dream was it?”

I look over at her. “The ice.”

She nods. “The one where you never get to shore.”

So, my demons are at least consistent across timelines in their torment.

© TriStone Media