The Girl He Wished (Paige King FBI Suspense Thriller #4) Read Online Blake Pierce

Categories Genre: Romance, Suspense, Thriller Tags Authors: Series: Paige King FBI Suspense Thriller Series by Blake Pierce
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
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Paige King, a Ph.D. in forensic psychology and a new arrival at the FBI’s elite BAU unit, has an uncanny ability to enter serial killers’ minds. But when a new serial killer strikes, leaving a cryptic signature of a fleur de lis at each crime scene, Paige wonders: will this diabolical killer outsmart them all?
A complex psychological crime thriller full of twists and turns and packed with heart-pounding suspense, the PAIGE KING mystery series will make you fall in love with a brilliant new female protagonist and keep you turning pages late into the night. It is a perfect addition for fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll and Robert Dugoni.

FULL BOOK START HERE:

CHAPTER ONE

Meredith Park couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, as she slowly started to get ready to leave the restaurant at the Lexington Ren-Faire.

Which was silly, because of course she was being watched. Being watched was a large part of her job, there at the Ren-Faire. Even if she was actually just there to serve food and make sure that the kitchens didn’t overcook the roast suckling pig, she knew that she was as much a part of the act of the place as any of the performers there. Just looking around now, there were at least a dozen people watching her performance.

“I hope your meal was ok,” Meredith said, offering a smile to a young couple who had come in wearing their own interpretations of medieval dress, both of them wearing chainmail that looked like they’d put it together at home from loops of plastic and then spray painted it. She set the bill down for them and made her way around to the next table, gently working her way towards the exit. Meredith wouldn’t be able to leave until she’d cleared the last tables, checked her share of the tips, and made sure that the others were ok before she headed home.

It wasn’t easy, being a wench. That was Meredith Park’s official job title: serving wench at the court of King Arthur. Because apparently the people who ran the Lexington Ren-Faire thought that was the most period appropriate way to describe their staff members. Meredith wasn’t entirely sure that it was the job title she would have chosen for herself if they’d asked, but they hadn’t.

At the same time, though, Meredith had to admit that she loved working there in the restaurant of the Ren-Faire. She loved the enjoyment that people got from visiting, and she loved the enthusiasm that some of them showed. The cosplayers always loved to get involved, piecing together chainmail at home and sewing dresses that made the ones Meredith had to wear for work look drab by comparison. Some days, it was hard to tell the visitors from the people who worked there, although it helped that Meredith knew everyone who worked there. They all passed through the restaurant sooner or later.

Meredith bussed the last of the tables in her section, then handed over to the next wench on duty. She smiled and waved as she left the restaurant, in one last piece of performance. She always went home in her work clothes because no one there wanted to see the medieval servant who had just been providing their food come out in jeans and a t-shirt.

Meredith had majored in history at college, so taking a job at the local Renaissance Faire while she tried to work out what else she wanted to do with her life had seemed like a great option. And it was, just as long as Meredith didn’t pay too much attention to the portrayals of history on display there and just went along with the fun of the place.

For a start, King Arthur? If the mythical king had existed at all, he’d probably been an early medieval king in one of the small British kingdoms of the time; he had probably lived close to a thousand years before the Renaissance.

Then there was the wench’s costume that Meredith had been given for work. It had a great flounced skirt, a bonnet, and a corset that was more of a bustier, over a pale linen underskirt. By actual medieval standards, Meredith suspected that she was several layers of clothing short of authenticity; but at the Ren-Faire, showing off how one looked apparently counted for far more. It was about how impressed the patrons were, not whether everything fit with the latest historical papers.

Not that Meredith minded a little showing off, or the attention that got her here. She was five-ten, full-figured and blonde-haired, with deep blue eyes that were a little larger and more wide-set than most people’s. With her slightly rounded features and ready smile, it had been pretty much inevitable that she would end up as a wench.

Meredith had been briefly annoyed by that because a part of her would rather have been a knight, but there was a waiting list to become a knight, or a jester, or any of the entertainment jobs. Meredith had quickly found that she had a knack for cooking good food, and for serving customers. She’d even done extra research on medieval recipes, trying to find ones that would fit with modern tastes while still seeming authentic enough.


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