Murder Mystery Book with Female Protagonist

[taoschild]

Hey all, StMercy and I have finally completed our book The Courtesan of Whitechapel. If you're interested in reading a murder mystery book with a muscular woman, it can be found here.: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CV7977J7  It will be out on smashwords, applebooks, and in paperback soon.

Here is the copy cover:
Step onto the blood soaked streets of Edwardian London, where a Jack the Ripper copycat baffles Scotland Yard once again. Edward Henry and his powerful partner, Athena, embark on a quest to untangle the mystery, but with each victim, the Ripper’s shadow looms larger, threatening to consume them all. Shrouded in fog and intrigue, The Courtesan of Whitechapel crafts a story of crime, resilience, and defiance.

Readers are drawn into a gaslit world in the sprawling expanse of Edwardian London. Scotland Yard is once again scrambling to uncover the mystery of a serial killer murdering fallen women eerily reminiscent of Jack the Ripper. The unlikely duo of Chief Constable Henry and his formidable partner, Athena, must unravel a mystery which seems to reach into the highest echelons of London’s high society before scandal rips Edward’s position from him and the very Yard apart.

Athena, a lovely courtesan whose wit and muscular form have both challenged and seduced London’s high society, is drawn into the spiraling investigation when her path crosses the dark Ripper. In the aftermath of her encounter, Edward comes to rely on her knowledge of the seamier side of London’s nightlife while she finds herself enthralled by the dashing inspector’s intelligence and strength of character. In the uncertainties of the mysteries they face, Athena’s strength and resilience are matched only by the shadows that cling to her haunted past.

As they trace the macabre path of a murderer together they face external threats and internal demons all whilst observing and defying the strict social expectations of Edwardian London. From the difficulties of expressing her muscular beauty, to the necessity of hiding a clandestine relationship, Athena finds herself constantly confronted by the strict limitations of the era.

Be prepared to immerse yourself in a gripping tale of crime, resilience, and the unlikely bonds forged in the crucible of chaos and violence. The Courtesan of Whitechapel is not just a crime story—it's an exploration of the human spirit's capacity to endure, evolve, and emerge victorious, even in the face of the most sinister forces.

[taoschild]

Here is the start of the book:

His gaze lingered on another ill-born woman as she confidently navigated the squalid cobblestones of Middlesex Street, her head held high and her petticoats aflutter as if she ruled all creation. Her footsteps echoed through the narrow, twisting alleys, the rhythmic tap of her boots a stark contrast to the sordid surroundings. Darkness and mist shrouded her movements which the flickering lamps seemed unable to fully penetrate. The pungent aroma of refuse clung to the air intermingling with the smoky residue of oil lamps that painted eerie, dancing shadows on the filthy facades.

On any ordinary evening, he would not have paid her much notice–she was acting above her station for sure– but he typically avoided venturing into this forsaken neighbourhood. He despised these labyrinthine alleys that echoed with the uproar of licentious revelry and debauched behaviour. On this night, however, he had other aims.

He inspected the woman. She was tall and slender, with a delicate neck, but he didn’t fancy struggling with her if she took to fighting. His first would have to be an easy target. He faded back into the shadows and let her pass, waiting for a better opportunity. It wasn’t long after that another painted lady sauntered into view. Amongst the dirty whores who plied their trades on these mean streets this one seemed right–not as confident, which was important for this night’s adventure. She was more petite, with surprisingly plump wrists and elbows, and her corset had been drawn in tight enough that he had no doubt her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

He revelled in the anticipation of the hunt, his breath shallow and calculated, pulse quickening in the cool damp air. An intoxicating mix of adrenaline, dark desire, and righteous justice coursed through his veins. His eyes glinted with malevolence as he approached her, eager to leave his mark. He closed in on his prey, footsteps muffled by the thick mist that clung to the ground. She would be the first.

The moon’s feeble light flashed upon the blade contained in his gloved hand. That subtle flicker nearly betrayed him. The woman half-turned before he had the thin knife in play and he missed his strike, barely grazing her chubby neck. A dark splash of hot crimson spilled out onto his hand, startling him. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the acrid odour of the nearby sewage drains. He’d grow to crave that aroma. The woman began to cry out, a high-pitched wail that cut through the night’s stillness. But he grabbed her and yanked hard, turning her scream into a barely audible gasp as he drew her further into the alley to complete his grisly task.