Frank is a detective who has always had a 'feel' for things. Many times it has assisted him in his line of work, but having a gift like his comes with a price. He's given so much to the job, risking his family and his marriage, and all he wants now is to slow down and spend time with his loved ones. Is that dream going to be shattered in the form of a book that fate has decided to send his way? Is this journal chronicling a crime perpetrated by a madman named Harold a work of fiction, or is it a nightmarish true-life account of a delusional killer from someone's worst nightmare? It is up to the reader to decide.
Harold
