Priest Detective Books Novels & Stories

Christian clamps his teeth into my neck, and I moan for him to keep going, even if he sucks it all dry, turns me into a demon, just like he did to that civi I was charged to execute. I jolt awake and feel a shock of clanging resistance as I go to lift a hand to my pounding head. I’m cuffed to a hospital bed. I crashed the Cadi while fleeing a crime scene dizzy from blood loss. Now the cops don’t just got a description of that civi’s assigned executioner; they got me dead to rights. The lead detective comes in asking questions the second the nurse reports to him I’m finally awake, but he don’t get far in before the knock comes at the door. “Priest is here.”

I’m Elara Quinn, 33, an investigative journalist with three big awards, but I had one secret I’d never print: I came here to record, not to confess. The screen slid open with a quiet scrape of wood on wood. A shadow filled the other side. He was male, with broad shoulders straining the black priest clothes. His cologne was faint—oud and smoke, expensive, and forbidden. His voice came low, familiar, and dangerous. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” I froze. That voice.

They were my friends, my very close friends, there was no doubt abouthim , but I still didn't know what their reaction would be if they get to know the actual truth, and so I kept it to myself. I stopped hooking up with him when Charles came into the picture. Nuel had announced on a Sunday that a new priest will be sent to our parish to act as the parish vicar. The diocese had considered sending him based on the fact that Nuel's popularity had turned our small parish into a big one. I never thought much about the new priest, not when I still loved Nuel and still felt like I was cheating on him, but when I first saw him on that Saturday evening, looking more like a model than an actual priest

Bernie was left alone with the priest and the two cops. "Now, Bernard," The priest started, taking a deep breath. "I've asked the officers here if I could speak to you first. I know you are not a member of our congregation, but I believe you are a good man. I asked them if I could come with them to speak to you." Bernie was unable to speak, the eyes of the priest hypnotic. Oh God, he thought, save me, save me from jail! I'll never touch her again! "I know you are a good man, Bernard. I know that you love Hayley very much. There can be great strength in such love, can't there?"

In the end, Meredith and George decided to arrange a meeting with the police detective assigned to Helena’s case, Detective Sergio. He was a tall, lean man with clean-cut hazelnut hair. Alice could make out the wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks as he settled himself in front of her. She watched the man remove his black coat and placed it on the table before taking out a medium-sized notepad and a pen. Alice loved comic books about detectives. Her favorite was James Gordon; he was Batman’s acquaintance and a respectable captain of the Gotham City Police Department. Whenever she saw a detective, she could not help but be mesmerized by their badges and work.

He didn’t even notice me when he walked by, there must have been something very important in his mind. The Deputy had told me, I’d be working with a man, I was starting to hope it was the one that walked in, even though he looked fierce and tough; he was still the handsomest among the other detectives, he was tall and had a great body; just the type of man I had always dreamed off.

I'm sorry you had to go through the shock of finding out that your fiancée Rita was being held in that abandoned house. What reassures me is to know she's alive. Thank you again. You too, Rex! The intelligent dog stretched out his paw like a real hero. It didn't take five minutes and Colin and Rex set off on the same road they had come this morning. Detective Callante invited me upstairs again this time to listen to the recordings with Father Maxwell. We both thought he was hiding something. You have the same impression as me, don't you, Mr. Hauser? If you mean the secretive priest, yes. I don't think he told me everything. I don't know about you, but I felt followed back in Bibury and I did

She held her cross as she spoke. "Alright, Cherie. Thank you for your cooperation" the detective said as he went back to meet Evelyn and Rebecca standing by the corner. "So what did she tell you?" Evelyn asked him. "Nothing tangible. It seems like she hit her head hard" "Maybe it was just a regular accident", Rebecca said. "Accidents are not regular, you are talking like it is normal," Evelyn told her. " isn't that Father Leon?". She saw the priest blessing some patients.

“It wouldn't be good for anyone.” I ended the call before Albert could say anything. A little pressure on Albert Kingston wouldn't do any harm, I thought. I quickly dialed another number. “Priest,” I hissed, muttering the name of the German investigator I had on my books. He didn’t have a name, simply going by the name; ‘Priest.’ Waiting around looking for traces of Elena wasn't going to work. “Yes Sir,’ Priest’s voice was raspy and curt on the line. “I need you to find someone,” I went straight to the point.

The kind that could make any woman feel something sinful stir deep inside her. But the man speaking wasn’t a mafia boss. He was hot, tall—yes. But he was also a priest. A fucking hot priest. One I lusted for. Obsessed over. The one who made me touch myself at night, desperate and aching in ways I never thought I could. Enzo Romano. A walking sin wrapped in holiness. Long black hair he tied back into a ponytail, piercing gray eyes that looked right into your soul, and features so divine they made you believe God really did have favorites.