One brilliant psychologist can heal any fractured mind except his own. But with a crazed stalker closing in, how can he save his patients if he can’t even save himself?
Lee Maguire’s spine-tingling medical mystery-thriller Closer Than You Think is a chilling and cerebral descent into darkness. Stuffed cover-to-cover with high-stakes thrills, gripping personal drama, and true-to-life details about real-world psychotherapy, Maguire’s debut is everything readers want from a thriller and more.
A Suspenseful Psychological Mystery Thriller Novel
Closer Than You Think is the story of Dr. Bryce Davison, a gifted psychotherapist on the verge of a breakdown. His marriage is crumbling, his insomnia brings only fitful sleep and horrifying nightmares, and the new female patient on his psych ward just might be more than he can handle. And now he has a stalker, a predator tracking him wherever he goes, wherever he feels safe, quickly closing in for the kill. If Dr. Davison can’t get his act together fast, he could lose everything: his marriage, his patients, his sanity … or even his life.
Whether you’re craving intriguing mystery, intellectual medical drama, or acute psychological horror, Closer Than You Think has something every reader can sink their teeth into. If you’re a fan of You by Caroline Kepnes, No Exit by Taylor Adams, I Am Watching You by Teresa Driscoll, and Stillhouse Lake by Rachel Caine, this gripping and suspenseful tale just might be your next obsession.
Read on for an exclusive preview of Closer Than You Think; we hope you enjoy it.
An Exclusive Book Preview
Please enjoy this exclusive preview for Lee Maguire’s Closer Than You Think:
When I felt like I could sit up without heaving, I headed home. What happened? What email had Vicki received? I sure didn’t send her anything. It was like I was having an out-of-body experience.
I grabbed my dinner and jogged to my front door. Max greeted me as the door swung open.
“Max, just a minute. I need to put this food in the fridge, then I’ll take you outside.”
Max followed me to the kitchen. I put the container away and headed toward the door. I stopped and looked up the stairs. Should I go and read the email?
Max’s tail thumped against the floor.
“Sorry, Max. Let’s go and take care of you first. You’ve waited all day.”
I grabbed her leash, snapped it on, and we headed out toward the trail. My skin crawled, and the tightness in my back ratcheted up. I felt eyes on me, but I saw nothing when I looked around. I couldn’t tell whether I was spooking myself or if my instincts were accurate.
Max finished her duties, and I bagged her muffins. We walked back toward the development. I pitched the bag in a trash bin.
Inside, I gave Max some fresh water and a treat, then hit the stairs two at a time. I landed in the chair hard enough to slide it into my desk with a crash. I pushed back on the desk to move the chair back and then straightened the desk. Powered up the computer.
Vicki’s email message was the most recent of several. I clicked it open.
When I married you I didn’t know you were a whore But that’s all you are. You think you’re so hot, but that’s just a cover for being frigid. So don’t go thinking that you’re making Tony happy in bed. For him to get any pleasure, he’d have to thaw you out in the microwave first. I don’t miss sex with you. I do better on my own…. After Tony leaves you don’t come crawling to me.
My stomach gurgled and my throat burned. I ran to the bathroom and dropped to the floor in front of the toilet. My stomach emptied, and I braced my hands against the back of the toilet seat until the spasms stopped. I leaned back on my feet and tried to catch my breath. My whole body was shaking.
I pulled myself up by leaning against the sink. I splashed water on my face and cupped my hands to draw some water to my mouth. In the mirror, I saw Max watching me from the doorway. Her tail was not thumping. She knew something was wrong.
“I’m okay, Max. Just sick to my stomach.” I patted her head as I walked by. She followed me into my office. When I sat down, she dropped her front legs to the floor and watched to see what would happen next.
“You look like a Sphinx.”
Max panted lightly.
I moved the computer mouse to wake the computer. Vicki’s email appeared. I read through it several times.
Vicki was right. It was nasty….
I checked my outbox. No recent sent messages to Vicki. I stood up and looked at the back of the computer. I didn’t see anything amiss.
Pulling up messages I had sent Vicki, I saw the one where she had said that Bathrobe Guy, aka Tony, was angry at me. So his name could have been pulled from that message. What else would someone need to have known to send the new message? That Vick and I were married, but separated. My stalker knew that. The only other part that was added was the comment about Vicki thinking she was hot. I never typed that in an email message, and it wasn’t an adjective that I use in conversation. It was an assumption and a way to contrast with the sexual frigidity that “I” mentioned. The latter description was designed to hurt Vicki and inflame her reaction—which it had.
I sat back in my chair. At no point in our marriage would I have considered Vicki frigid. And never did I ever imply anything like that, not even during an ugly argument.
The waves of sickness had passed, and my body no longer trembled. I took a deep breath. My muscles were pretty tense, but I could deal with that. But I was ready to step away from the stress. Time to get into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and cool off.
When I entered my bedroom, my knees buckled. My bathrobe was on the bed, tattered and practically shredded. A knife pierced the chest pocket of the robe—right where my heart would be.
And the blade of the knife was covered in blood.
Want to find out what happens next? Buy Closer Than You Think and let the mystery unfold!
As a Senior Editor at TCK Publishing, Jacob Mohr relishes the opportunity to work closely with the authors of tomorrow, creating new stories and exciting possibilities—and making the world a little more awesome, one book at a time.
When he’s not editing someone else’s writing, Jacob can usually be found reading Stephen King, riding rollercoasters, or crafting his own stories.