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Crossing Sydney InPixio.jpg

Synopsis - At the age of twelve, Sydney Geyer took a baseball bat, hit a friend in the head, and killed him.

 Now, forty-eight years later, a medical prognosis indicates that death is only months away. With time running out, Sydney decides to come clean to the FBI and confess to multiple unsolved murders. When that plan falls short, Sydney chooses Dr. Gabriel Miller as the psychiatrist to hear the story.


Day after day, for five weeks, Dr. Miller listens to Sydney relay the stories of the gruesome and heartless murders that were committed over a period of forty-eight years. Knowing that he is dealing with a psychopath, Dr. Miller wrestles with his conscience regarding doctor-patient confidentiality and his fear of Sydney. Should he turn Sydney over to the FBI now before another murder, possibly his, takes place? Or, should he risk it?

Crossing Sydney will keep you totally riveted from the shocking first page to the mind blowing last sentence.

Excerpt from Chapter One

The first time I killed someone it was an accident. I was angry but not so angry that I didn’t know what I was doing. I wasn’t in an uncontrollable rage. My only excuse is that I was pissed off because he wouldn’t give me back my baseball.

 So, at the age of twelve, when I picked up that baseball bat and hit Herb in the back of the head, I knew exactly what I was doing. I just didn’t know he would die.

I only hit him once, but it was a mighty swing and he went down and stayed down. It seemed that there was an awful lot of blood gushing out of the back of his head. The sight of blood had never bothered me before but the amount pooling under his head made me just a little queasy.

The sound of my name being called blew through the wind and reached my ears. It was time to leave the little park and get home. I looked around but saw no one watching. I glanced down at Herb. He had not moved. I had never seen a dead body but I was pretty sure I was looking at my first.

My heart started pounding with excitement. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to know what a dead person felt like. As I started to bend down to touch his face I heard my mother calling me once more. I turned away from him and ran the short block to my house where everyone was piling into the car. We were heading out on vacation.

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