A washed-out painter battling to forget her past. A profiler who needs all the help he can get. To get to know the artist, they'll have to face a killer's deadl

Art was my dearest friend. To draw was trouble and safety, adventure and freedom. In that four-cornered kingdom of paper, I lived as I pleased. This is the stor

North Carolina’s hills are a crazy quilt of old farmsteads and new beginnings, of locals, strangers, artists, and new age wanderers….Here Elizabeth Goodweat

London. A snowy December, 1888. Sherlock Holmes, 34, is languishing and back on cocaine after a disastrous Ripper investigation. Watson can neither comfort nor

If he had been with me everything would have been different... I wasn't with Finn on that August night. But I should've been. It was raining, of course. And he