By Ron Franscell
A 12-year-old boy cowers in his closet whereas a lunatic killer slaughters his relatives . . . a nursing pupil unwittingly opens her domestic to the serial killer on her entrance porch . . . an 11-year-old woman drifts on my own at sea on a flimsy cork raft for nearly 4 days after a mass assassin kills her touring family members aboard a chartered yacht . . . a courageous firefighter without warning unearths himself within the crosshairs of a racist sniper virtually 9 tales above the floor . . .
And, astonishingly, all of them survived.
From Howard Unruh’s 1949 capturing rampage via a quiet New Jersey local to Louisiana serial killer Derrick Todd Lee’s reign of terror in 2002, the corpses piled up and few lived to inform the horror. Now, award-winning journalist Ron Franscell explores the wounded hearts and minds of the standard humans those monsters couldn’t kill. His captivating money owed crackle with gritty info that positioned the reader in the middle of the carnage—and provide a front-row seat at the advanced, painful strategy of surviving the remainder of their haunted lives. In intimate, gripping prose, Franscell takes the reader on a pulse-pounding sprint during the murky intersection of natural evil and the efficiency of the human spirit. This trip into the darkest corners of the yankee crime-scape is a penetrating paintings of literary journalism via a author hailed as probably the most strong new voices in precise crime.