My Obsession with Serial Killers by @CodiGary. Enter to WIN signed books!
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My Obsession with
Serial Killers
(and why my husband calls me paranoid)
Serial Killers
(and why my husband calls me paranoid)
And so my fascination continued with Tami Hoag, Linda Howard, and even the occasional Ann Rule. Scream became my favorite movie and I would write short horror and suspense stories, wanting to see what made these twisted souls tick. Glee would bubble up inside me if I was able to guess the killer’s identity before he was revealed, and my first year of college, I imagined becoming a homicide detective and catching dangerous psychopaths for a living.
Of course, that didn’t happen, but my fascination never abated. I would spend hours reading stories on the Crime Library website, and I could recite details of famous serial killers and their crimes. Did people look at me a little sideways? Sure. But it didn’t stop me…
Until I had children.
Then, the same facts and cases that used to fascinate me kept me awake at night. Were the windows shut? Locked? I used to yell at my husband if I’d get up and find them open at night, even if it was 100 degrees outside and our air conditioner couldn’t keep up. He would roll his eyes at me and tell me if someone came through the screen, the dogs would bark or we would hear something, but I wasn’t so sure. Several times I’ve threatened to print up cases of home invasions where the unsub (yeah, Criminal Minds) came through the screen and the home owners heard nothing until they faced their doom. Had all of the stories I had read over the years turned me into a paranoid loony scared of her own shadow?
Honestly, no, I don’t think so. I think my experiences and knowledge is an asset. I don’t accept drinks
from strangers, I park under the street lights, I’m always aware of my surrounding and shady people make my skin crawl. I’ve learned not to ignore my gut, and I think that sometimes, a little paranoia can make you someone other than the “stupid blonde who can’t act who runs up the stairs instead of out the front door” (to paraphrase Scream).
And maybe, someday, I can use all this crazy to write a romantic suspense. Oh, I’ve got an idea…