Historical True Crime Blog - HistoricalCrimeDetective.com

True Crime Books by Jason Lucky Morrow


Welcome to HistoricalCrimeDetective.com where you will discover forgotten crimes and forgotten criminals lost to history. You will not find high profile cases that have been rehashed and retold ad infinitum to ad nauseam. If you want to send me a comment, old crime tip, submit a story, or exchange links with a related website, please Contact Me Here. - Please follow this historical true crime blog on Facebook.

Recent Posts



Mug Shot Monday! The George Tisdale Case, 1911-1925

Home | Mug Shot Monday | Mug Shot Monday! The George Tisdale Case, 1911-1925

The George Tisdale Case

GeorgeCTisdaleThe case of George Tisdale, convicted in 1911 for second degree murder and sentenced to 10 to 15 years in federal prison, reveals a deplorable side to the prison justice system at that time. The story below  comes from the August 1926 edition of the publication, The O.E. Library Critic. The article details how Tisdale was forcibly committed to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Washington DC, the oldest insane asylum in the country, by McNeil Island Federal Penitentiary officials where he was held past his release date without due process. The likely reason – the hospital was paid an allowance by the federal government for each patient. More patients = more money.

One attempt by a lawyer to have him released by writ of habeas corpus succeeded, but instead of being freed, thugs from the insane asylum entered the courtroom and forcibly kidnapped Tisdale who was then hauled back to the hospital under the pretense of “observation.” They had already been observing him for thirteen years. Tisdale was eventually released after a congressman intervened on his behalf.

The horrors of St. Elizabeth’s Hospital have been well-documented during the 20th Century.

The Tisdale Case – The O.E. Library Critic, August, 1926, pages 1-3.

In 1911 an Alaskan miner, George C. Tisdale, took part in a miners’ brawl in which a man was killed.  Tisdale surrendered himself to the local United States marshal, for criminal justice is administered in Alaska, as a territory, not by locally chosen officials, but by the United States Department of Justice, was tried and sentenced to the Federal Penitentiary at McNeil Island.

After two years residence in this prison Tisdale was transferred to Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital for the Insane in the District of Columbia [Washington DC] on recommendation of the prison alienist.  Whether this recommendation had a sound basis or not I do not know.  It is a notorious fact that inmates of Federal prisons who are too persistent in their attempts to secure their liberty, or who know too much about inside affairs, and who thus make themselves annoying to or feared by the officials, are frequently gotten out of the way by sending them to Saint Elizabeth’s “for observation” as to their sanity.  This serves a double purpose; it protects the prison officials from exposure, and it enables the asylum authorities, who are in collusion with the penal powers, to say that the prisoner is “dangerously insane” and so to hold him incommunicado and so prevent his telling tales to his friends or taking legal measures for his relief.  Any little eccentricity, such as inclination to doubt the infallibility of the courts, is enough to afford a plausible pretext, plausible enough for a prison doctor under the thumb of the warden.  You won’t believe that possible, but it is a fact, and you shall see presently.

Tisdale was still at Saint Elizabeth’s department for the criminal insane on October 4th, 1921, the date on which his original sentence for murder expired.  One might have expected, therefore, that he would be discharged in the usual manner as with other prisoners, and allowed to go home, or at least that the usual discharge would take place but that if he was really insane, he would be temporarily held until a court order of commitment as a lunatic could be secured, as the law requires, a process which would involve definite proof of insanity to the satisfaction of the court.  Even if that were done, he should be removed from the noisome (noisy) Howard Hall, the walled prison within the precincts of Saint Elizabeth’s, and given such restricted freedom as other non-criminal inmates enjoy.

Nothing of the sort happened.  Tisdale was not released; he was not brought into court for a hearing on his mental condition; he was not transferred to the status of a non-criminal patient.  No, he was just held and treated as a criminal, despite the fact that his sentence had expired.

For four years this man, who had paid the penalty of his crime, if crime it was, was held under the status and all the disabilities of a criminal.  Meanwhile another person, a fellow prisoner in Howard Hall, who was just as sane as you or I, had made the acquaintance of Tisdale and learned of the predicament in which he was, thousands of miles from home and without a friend.   This person was more fortunate and had managed to secure his liberty.  He interested others in Tisdale’s case, and a local welfare worker, Mrs. Eldred, attempted to secure  a writ of habeas corpus for Tisdale, the effect of which would have been to have him brought into court, and the asylum authorities required to show why they were detaining him.  Not only was the writ dismissed by the local court without a hearing, at the instigation of Dr. William A. White, the superintendent of the asylum, but an order was issued prohibiting Mrs. Eldred from entering the institution.  A second time an application for a writ was made, this time by our friend John A. Savage, [a lawyer] who actually succeeded in having Tisdale brought into court, and freed on the ground of illegal commitment and illegal detention, and as being of sound mind.

But the Saint Elizabeth’s people were not through with him.  Disregarding the action of the court, bullies were sent from the asylum, who grabbed Tisdale in the court room and carried him back to prison under the pretext of “holding him for observation,” and that, mind you after they had already had him under observation for thirteen years!

Called on by a member of Congress who had interested himself in Tisdale’s cases to explain his action, the superintendent of the asylum, by this time swelled with conceit of his own importance and ability to disregard the law, replied with an important letter, which, however, did not settle the congressman.  The latter took the case in hand and succeeded in getting Tisdale discharged, after illegally held for four-and-a half years.

Meanwhile, the man who had befriended Tisdale in the first place was subjected to persecution from another governmental source, the post office department.  Post office inspectors apparently opened his mail, and I myself have received complaints from various correspondents that they had been annoyed by communications from the post office department asking to be informed confidentially what relation they had had with this gentleman. Speculation as to the reasons may be premature, but may be surmised that those whom he was opposing in the Tisdale and other cases had endeavored to implicate him in a charge of using the  mails to defraud, and thus to head off his activities in behalf of the unjustly oppressed inmates of Saint Elizabeth’s asylum.

Why is it that the authorities of Saint Elizabeth’s seem so determined to get and to hold on to patients, whether legally or illegally?  That, to, can be but a matter of surmise only.  It has been suggested that as the institution gets an allowance for each patient, every person they can detain is a permanent source of revenue.  That Tisdale was sane at the very time he was prevented from seeing his advisors, on the ground that he was dangerous, there can be no question.  Such an occurrence can follow only either as the result of grossly incompetent management or of motives which, seeing that they involve disregard of well-known legal provisions and result in a person in sound health and under no criminal charge being held as a convict, can be regarded as little short of criminal.

“The Tisdale Case,” The O.E. Library Critic, August, 1926, pages 1-3.


Murder in Suburbia, Disturbing Stories from Australia’s Dark Heart, by Emily Webb

Home | New Books | Murder in Suburbia, Disturbing Stories from Australia’s Dark Heart, by Emily Webb

Murder-in-SuburbiaWhen I’m looking for a true crime book to read, I like to jump into crimes I never knew about. If you’re an American reader with the same passion, then you will enjoy Australian True Crime writer Emily Webb’s book, Murder in Suburbia: Disturbing Stories from Australia’s Dark Heart.

You know that country Australia. It’s like a hot version of Canada, and a sexier version of England. Sorry England, but they have the beaches and climate for it.

Webb is a gifted writer who presents fascinating cases that adhere to her theme – Murder in Suburbia. Reading this book, I am reminded that it is just a matter of time before we are all brutally murdered in our homes.

This book has more than twenty examples of horrible crimes from Australia. It also features plenty of examples of what I enjoy most when reading a true crime book: a bad guy that you just love to hate. The sadistic, horrible killer that makes you think: hmmmm, maybe waterboarding isn’t such a bad idea.

If you thought living in the suburbs meant that “it can’t happen to me” – this book will make you think again.

Emily-WebbAbout the Author: I have always been intrigued by crime and have been an avid true crime and crime fiction reader since I was young. I became a journalist because a) (I’m a sticky beak) I like to know what’s going on and b) I absolutely love news, newspapers, radio and I knew it was what I always wanted to do. (If I wasn’t a journalist I’d want to be a librarian.)

My first true crime book is called MURDER IN SUBURBIA – DISTURBING STORIES FROM AUSTRALIA’S DARK HEART (a case file book of Australian murders). The book is published by The Five Mile Press. I interviewed several victims of crime for the book and can’t thank them enough for their time.


I live in Melbourne, Australia with my husband and two daughters. I work as a journalist for Leader Community Newspapers.





Mug Shot Monday! Theodore Coneys, the Spiderman of Denver, 1941

Home | Mug Shot Monday | Mug Shot Monday! Theodore Coneys, the Spiderman of Denver, 1941

Theodore-ConeysTheodore Coneys was born November 10, 1882 in Petersburg, Illinois to T. H. Coneys, a Canadian immigrant who owned a hardware store in Petersburg, and his wife. After the elder Coneys died in 1888, Mrs. Coneys and her son moved to a farm near Beloit, Wisconsin, then to Denver, Colorado in 1907, where she worked as a housekeeper at the Denver Democratic Club. She died in 1911.

Coneys suffered from poor health and had been told by doctors not to expect to see his 18th birthday, so he did not finish high school. As an adult, he worked as a bookkeeper at the Denver Brass Works and in advertising and sales, yet spent much of his adult life homeless. Coneys resented the way he was treated by others for his frail condition, later expressing that he wanted a place where he could be alone and free from the judgment of others.

Criminal career

In September 1941, 59-year-old Theodore Coneys intended to ask former acquaintance Philip Peters for a handout at his home on 3335 West Moncrieff Place in Denver, Colorado. Coneys broke into the house in Peters’ absence to steal food and money. In the ceiling of a closet, Coneys found a small trapdoor that led to a narrow attic cubbyhole and decided to occupy the small space without Peters’ knowledge. Coneys lived in the house undiscovered for about five weeks.

On October 17, 1941, Peters discovered Coneys standing at the refrigerator looking for something to eat. Peters struck at Coneys with a cane he carried, but Coneys clubbed him with an old pistol he had found in the house. After the gun broke apart, Coneys continued the assault with a heavy iron stove shaker and bludgeoned the 73-year-old Peters to death. Coneys then returned to the attic cubbyhole.

Peters’ body was discovered later the same day after a neighbor, concerned Peters had not come by for dinner, called the police. The police found all of the home’s doors and windows locked, and there was no other sign of forced entry. They noted the trapdoor but believed a normal-sized person could not fit through it. Peters’ wife, who had been in the hospital recuperating from a broken hip during and prior to Coneys’ occupation of the attic, returned to live in the house with a housekeeper. Both women would often hear strange sounds in the house. The housekeeper resigned after becoming convinced the house was haunted and Mrs. Peters moved to western Colorado to live with her son.

Coneys remained in the vacant house with the occasional signs of his occupation written off as an apparition or local pranksters. Police continued to make routine checks, when on July 30, 1942, one of them heard a lock click on the second floor. Running upstairs, the police caught the sight of Coneys’ legs as he was going through the trapdoor and pulled him down. He was taken into police custody and confessed to the crime.

Local newspapers dubbed him the “Denver Spider Man of Moncrieff Place” after police detective Fred Zarnow remarked “A man would have to be a spider to stand it long up there.” Coneys was tried and convicted, then sentenced to life imprisonment at the Colorado State Penitentiary in Cañon City, Colorado.


Theodore Coneys died on May 16, 1967 at the Colorado State Penitentiary prison hospital. He was interred at Mountain Vale Cemetery in Cañon City.

Additional Story

Here is a link to another article about him being featured on the Travel Channel’s Mysteries at the Museum.



New Book Uncovers Early 1900s Serial Killer

Home | New Books | New Book Uncovers Early 1900s Serial Killer


Cold Serial: The Jack The Strangler Murders by Brian Forschner, investigates a century-old series of murders and the deranged offender who committed them.

In the early 1900’s, a string of heinous crimes took place in the town of Dayton, Ohio. Five young girls were raped and brutally killed. In an era when women lacked rights and esteem in society, the victims were blamed and overlooked by police. Sadly, the crimes went unsolved, and the perpetrator was never brought to justice. In Cold Serial: The Jack The Strangler Murders, author and researcher Brian Forschner reopens a century-old case and goes on a quest for the truth.

Using criminological research and forensic evidence, these five murders are strung together and proven to be committed by one of the very first serial killers in the United States. Forschner attempts to solve the case by utilizing modern-day analysis, and simultaneously demonstrates the politics involved in the justice system both then and now. He proposes a suspect, embraces the challenge of placing him at each crime scene, and in turn gives voice to the victims that were tragically silenced in the past.

Cold Serial is a narrative non-fiction that reads with as much intrigue and suspense as a mystery novel. Riveting and fast-paced, this true crime book will appeal to thrill lovers and history buffs alike. With a mission to solve a long-since cold case and bring justice to the victims, the twists and turns and cold hard facts keeps readers on the edge of their seats dying to know what really happened way back then. By telling these women’s stories, Cold Serial: The Jack The Strangler Murders brings justice to victims of the past and lays the groundwork for understanding social issues facing women today.

About the Author: Brian E. Forschner, PhD, has a unique voice that has been shaped by many different experiences in his life, including seminary training, the operation of halfway houses, and university teaching. More recently, Brian has been involved in the building and operation of affordable housing for families and elderly Americans, retirement and nursing homes, home health, and post-acute services for a major health system. During his career his role has spanned from one of minister, teacher, writer, counselor, and consultant, to CEO. His passion is social justice. Today, Brian lives in Cincinnati, OH.


DNA Evidence in 1984 Murder Leads to Suicide by Criminologist

Home | Rediscovered Crime News | DNA Evidence in 1984 Murder Leads to Suicide by Criminologist

Like everyone here, I’ve read many good crime stories over the years but this one, by James Vlahos for The Atlantic, is one of the best.

Two gruesome murders from 1978 and 1984 are seemingly related and lead police to three good suspects who all go on to commit suicide. There are about five or six left turns in this article and at the end, you will have to make a decision about an unlikely suspect on your own.

It raises good questions about contamination of DNA evidence and law enforcement’s faith in its purity when it serves their agenda. However, DNA experts themselves disagree with that notion and declare contamination, especially in the 1980s and 1990s, was more prevalent than we like to think.

Read Story


Excellent Police Work Solves 1919 Murder
Nichan Martin Executed in Arizona 1921

Home | Short Feature Story | Excellent Police Work Solves 1919 Murder
Nichan Martin Executed in Arizona 1921

During the late evening hours of October 4, 1919, a shepherd tending a flock east of Seligman, Arizona, discovered the smoldering, badly burned body of a man behind a small hill located one hundred feet from the transcontinental road known at the time as the National Old Trails Road. The following day, he reported the find to his employer who then notified authorities.

When Yavapai County lawmen investigated the scene, they determined the victim had been shot in the back, wrapped in a blanket, dragged behind the hill, and set on fire in attempt to obscure his identity.

Although the clothing was nearly destroyed and the body charred and unrecognizable, authorities found a Canadian military button with the serial number “400754” and determined the unknown male was wearing his Canadian uniform when he was killed. Inside of his puttees, that were tightly wrapped around his ankles and calves, (the easily identifiable hallmark of American and Canadian soldiers during World War I), they found $60 the murderer had missed.

Arthur-De-Steunder2With no identification and only the serial number on the button to go on, Arizona authorities wired the Canadian identification bureau which checked their records and reported that a button with that serial number on it was issued to Arthur De Steunder. According to his Canadian military records, De Steunder had stated that his family lived in Chicago, but he listed no address for them.

Undeterred, Chicago authorities ran advertisements which appeared on movie screens throughout the city. This quickly led to the location of several of De Steunder’s family members, including his wife who was in the process of divorcing him.

De Steunder’s sister-in-law described to a Chicago Daily Tribune the peculiar circumstances by which he had recently left Chicago.

“He answered an advertisement about a month ago and met a man who offered him $10 a week and expenses to make a car trip throughout the western United States,” his brother’s wife reported. “The purpose of the journey was kept a mystery. They spent several days getting ready in Chicago and then departed. We didn’t like the man’s looks. Arthur’s sister met this man and warned Arthur against going.”

The man who placed the newspaper ad was Nichan Martin, a twenty-five-year-old Armenian immigrant from Turkey who had immigrated to the United States in 1912, and fortified his American citizenship by volunteering as a soldier during World War I.

By interviewing business proprietors along the continental road that stretched through Holbrook to Kingman, near the California border, investigators found witnesses who had seen the two men travelling together. On September 25 both men were arrested near Holbrook and held in jail for observation after a local store was robbed. They were released a few days later for lack of evidence. According to observers, Martin’s face was unforgettable because of his oddly shaped cranium, and a crimson port-wine stain on his cheek.

On the night of October 4, Martin had registered at a local hotel and signed his name, hary Diyer (sic), a clear sign to others the strange man didn’t know how to spell an alias he was trying to use to some unknown advantage. [Common enough first and last names that should have been spelled Harry and Dyer.]

hary Diyer made quite an impression on hotel guests and employees by telling anyone who would listen, and even those who didn’t want to listen, that he had made the journey from Rhode Island in his Hudson automobile alone, and that he could find no one who wanted to travel with him.

“Martin’s talk around the Kingman hotel, according to witnesses, all centered about the impossibility of getting a companion for his long automobile ride across the country, and his standing offer to take anyone along who would pay for the fuel and oil for his machine,” a Prescott weekly newspaper reported. “It is said that his insistence on this topic created some talk among the Kingman hearers, who wondered why the traveler should have found it so difficult to pick up a companion.”

With Kingman located only sixty miles west of where the body was found, authorities calculated that Martin murdered De Steunder sometime during October 4, possibly during the early morning hours. The body was then found later that day by the shepherd.

Nichan-Martin2After he left Kingman, Martin travelled to his home in Yettem, California where detectives tracked him down. He was arrested on October 15, just nine days after De Steunder’s body was first discovered. Besides the victim’s Hudson Six automobile, Martin was also in possession of De Steunder’s luggage, military discharge papers, and a bravery medal. Despite having these items, Martin claimed that he and De Steunder had parted company near a small town 100 miles east of Prescott, Arizona, and that he had not seen him since.

As Martin was being transported by rail to the county jail in Prescott, Arizona, he was able to escape near Needles when the train stopped to allow passengers to dine in a railroad affiliated restaurant. Since it was evening, and the countryside was wide open desert, Sheriff Warren Davis postponed tracking him down until morning, but telegrammed nearby lawmen, railroad personnel, and several local men’s groups to be on the lookout for Martin.

With the help of a local expert tracker, Martin was easily located the next morning twelve miles west of town near the railroad tracks with a bullet in his buttock. He claimed he had been shot by members of the Santa Fe train crew. When the train crew was questioned, they claimed it was an automobile party traveling along the highway near a point where the tracks and the road run parallel.

It was never made clear who actually shot Martin, and from newspaper reports, the authorities didn’t seem to care.

Martin went on trial in Prescott on March 25, 1920. Four days later, he was found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to hang. His court appointed attorney filed an appeal which was eventually denied by the state supreme court and an execution date was set for June 10, 1921. Through legal motions in state courts that were all denied, Martin’s execution was pushed to Friday, September 9, 1921.

In his final days, Martin was calm and resigned to his fate. At what was probably two or three o’clock in the morning that Friday, Martin was awakened in his death cell at the state penitentiary in Florence, Arizona, and served a hearty breakfast which he ate.

At five o’clock, Warden Thomas Running appeared at his cell to read the court’s death mandate. Martin was then blindfolded, and led to death chamber where he mounted the steps to the scaffold with ease and took his place over the trap door.

“Straps were placed about his legs and arms and then Capt. Thomas H. Rynning, superintendent of the prison, asked Martin if he had anything to say.

“I am the happiest man in the world,” Martin replied in broken English. “Best regards to everybody, good-bye.”

The prison chaplain embraced the condemned man and bid him good-bye. The black hood was then adjusted and the trap sprung at 5:08. Martin hung there for a full twelve minutes before the prison physician pronounced him dead. He was buried in the prison cemetery.

Several weeks after Martin’s death, an Arizona newspaper confirmed that the two men were financing their excursion across the Southwest by robbing businesses along the way. Martin may have murdered De Steunder over a falling out regarding the spoils of their crimes, or to silence him.



“Public Morals” – 1960s Cop Show

Home | Uncategorized | “Public Morals” – 1960s Cop Show

A new cop show set in the 1960s.

“Public Morals,” Premieres Tuesday, August 25 at 10/9c on TNT


Public Morals is an upcoming American police drama set in New York City in the 1960s. The series will focus on the police department’s Public Morals Division and its officers’ attempts to deal with vice in the city, while managing their personal lives as Irish Americans.

Executive producer Edward Burns not only stars in the series, but will also write and direct some of the episodes. The series will air on TNT, and the network is collaborating with Amblin Television, Steven Spielberg, Justin Falvey, Darryl Frank and Aaron Lubin as producers. In May 2014, TNT placed a 10-episode order for the series, which is slated to premiere on August 25, 2015. – Wikipedia.org





Mug Shot Monday, Jimma Pasta, 1940

Home | Mug Shot Monday | Mug Shot Monday, Jimma Pasta, 1940

Guest post by Diarmid Mogg.

Diarmid Mogg is a Scottish parliamentary reporter who runs Small Town Noir, a website of old mug shots from New Castle, Pennsylvania, and has launched a crowdfunding campaign at https://unbound.co.uk/books/small-town-noir to publish a book of the mug shots and the true-life stories behind them.

Jimmy Pasta

Jimmy Pasta made his money running illegal numbers games. He called himself a bill collector. He was arrested from time to time on gambling-related charges, staying out of jail by paying hundreds of dollars in fines. His mug shot dates from one such incident, in March, 1940.

Six months later—just after three o’clock on the nineteenth of September—Jimmy was sitting in his car in Ellwood City, western Pennsylvania, when he saw the chief of police, Ernest Hartman, stop a car on the bridge over the Connoquenessing creek and open fire with his Tommy-gun when three men got out holding revolvers. One of the men fell to the ground and was dragged back into the car by the other two. They drove off while Hartman was re-loading his gun.

An off-duty police officer, Ed Shaffer, got into Jimmy’s car and told him to follow the men. He did what he was told.

Earlier that month, three ex-convicts who had met in Rockview penitentiary—Virgil Evarts, Albert Feelo and Kenneth Palmer—broke into Rohrer’s gun store in New Castle and stole twenty revolvers, five rifles and dozens of boxes of ammunition. They had already robbed an insurance office in Farrel of $400, and planned to use the guns in a series of heists in small banks across western Pennsylvania.

On the day Jimmy saw them, they had held up a bank in Harrisville, twenty miles away, making off with around $2,300. Police in the surrounding towns had been told to look out for their car, a black 1939 Buick club coupe. They had driven south through Ellwood City, where the chief of police had been waiting with his Tommy-gun. All three were wounded by Hartman. Evarts was the least badly hurt, with just two bullets in his chest. Palmer was wounded in both legs. Feelo’s spine was shattered and his lungs were punctured. His legs were torn up.

Fifteen miles out of town, their car ran off the road. Evarts stopped a passing car and forced the driver and his passenger out. Feelo and Palmer were being moved into the new car when Jimmy and Shaffer, both unarmed, drew up. Evarts ordered them at gunpoint to help them carry the wounded men.

Later that day, Jimmy told a reporter what happened next. “They said all seven of us couldn’t ride in that old car. I’ve read enough gangster stories to be plenty scared by that.” He saw Evarts put the rifle on Palmer’s lap and walk around to the driver’s side. “The car was between us and I figured it was now or never. I grabbed the gun from Palmer and pointed it at Evarts. He made a move like he was going for a gun and I fired through the window at him. He fell over the hill. Then I climbed down the hill where Evarts was moving, trying to get up. I hit him over the head with the gun and he passed out.”

He returned to the road to find that Shaffer had found a wrench and had beaten Palmer over the head until he was unconscious. The chief of police arrived in time to disarm Feelo, who was weakly trying to raise a revolver to shoot.

Evarts died when Jimmy hit him. His skull caved in. Feelo died in the hospital a day later. Palmer was sent back to Rockview penitentiary.

Jimmy was given a plaque and a gold Gruen wristwatch, which never ran. He took it to the jewelers to be repaired, but they said there was nothing wrong with it. He kept the plaque, but got rid of the watch.

Jimmy eventually quit running numbers. He became a sales manager for a furniture store and was elected head of Ellwood City’s Sons of Italy lodge, a post he held for most of the sixties. He died in 1991, at the age of seventy-five.


August Maternity Leave

Home | Uncategorized | August Maternity Leave

August Maternity Leave (or whatever they call it for men). Paternity Leave?

For those of you that have known me awhile, last November my wife and I tried IVF to get pregnant. With only one good embryo, it worked. Tomorrow evening, our OB/GYN will induce labor and our daughter, Alison, should be born sometime on Tuesday, August 5.

Because of this big event, I will not be researching, writing, or posting any original material on this blog or Facebook. I am going to take off the entire month of August. I may post links to news stories, blogs, or new books, but I will not be working on any original material.

Thank you for understanding and wish us luck.


Deadly Hero Reviewed on True Crime Reader

Home | Uncategorized | Deadly Hero Reviewed on True Crime Reader

True Crime Reader is a blog dedicated to the genre of true crime – reviews, news and film and television adaptations. It is managed by Australian True Crime author, journalist, wife and busy mom, Emily Webb. If True Crime Reader says your book is good, it means something.

Recently, TCR posted a very nice and insightful review of my book, Deadly Hero. The reviewer, Ellen Wallace, got to the heart of the book.

Thank you to TCR, Emily Webb and Ellen Wallace.

If you have the time, check out TCR. It’s a great resource for TC lovers.