ETCHED INTENT
Author
Reyus Mammadli
Author Bio
Reyus Mammadli grew up surrounded by detective novels — many of them brought home by his father. He wasn’t drawn to gunfights or violence, but to the quiet, logical unraveling of truth. What fascinated him most was that pivotal moment in a story when everything suddenly made sense — not because of coincidence or luck, but because the pieces had been there all along. That fascination shaped his writing style. Reyus creates psychological thrillers built on atmosphere, tension, and tightly constructed plots. His stories include impactful, often intense scenes — but never for spectacle alone. Every twist and revelation is rooted in logic, character, and emotional truth. His fiction explores how people hide things — from others, and often from themselves — and what happens when those truths begin to surface. He writes for readers who enjoy following subtle clues, making predictions, and being surprised not by tricks, but by clarity. Reyus believes the best twists aren’t the ones that shock for the sake of it — they’re the ones that feel inevitable in hindsight. The answer was always there; you just didn’t see it yet. His goal isn’t just to surprise — it’s to earn the surprise. And when it lands, it stays with you.
Description
Etched Intent is a dark, atmospheric psychological thriller — the first book in the Personal Verdict Series — set in the remote village of Blackwood, where the snow buries everything except the truth. When the decapitated body of horse trader Jacob Green is discovered in his frozen stable, the village’s calm isolation collapses into fear and suspicion. With the roads blocked by winter and no help coming from the outside, all eyes turn to Sheriff Jeff Arlington. Respected for his fairness and steady judgment, Jeff has never dealt with a murder before — and he doesn’t have time to hesitate. He gathers a small group of locals he considers clever and trustworthy. But as days pass and secrets unravel, it becomes clear: in Blackwood, no one is free of shadows. And when a second body appears — with a bloodstained burlap doll left beside it — the message is unmistakable. The killer wants to be understood, but not found. Readers are pulled directly into the investigation. You’ll question everyone. Search for meaning in every word and silence. But no matter how closely you read — you won’t solve it in time. And understanding the killer’s motive? That’s even harder. Until the truth comes out — and it’s so simple, so painfully clear, that you’ll wonder how you missed it. It was right there, all along. Hiding in plain sight. Etched Intent isn’t just a murder mystery. It’s a psychological challenge. A test of perception, trust, and fear. And by the final page, you may not just question the characters — you may question yourself.
Book excerpt
Sunlight off the snow had left his eyes half-blind, and it took a moment for them to adjust to the stable’s gloom. That moment of blindness might have spared him the full horror — for a heartbeat. On the damp, reeking ground, littered with dung and straw, a body lay. The head was twisted at a grotesque angle, like a puppet tossed aside. And for good reason — the neck had been nearly severed. Blood and muck smeared the face. His eyes, still open, stared into a dark corner where mice rustled. Blood had soaked the coat’s collar and pooled thick and dark on the floor. A fur cap lay nearby, flung aside like garbage. A scythe lay not far from the body. The blade stained dark red, not fresh, not dry — a murder weapon that seemed to recoil from its own act. The horses fidgeted and stamped, nostrils flaring, hooves clattering against the floor. They knew something foul had happened in the night. Billy didn’t study the scene. The moment he saw Mr. Green lying like that, he turned and ran. He ran like he could outrun the image seared into his mind — snowdrift by snowdrift, tree by tree. He only stopped when he burst through the smithy door, lungs on fire. His father looked up, saw the pale face, and nodded for him to speak. “Pa… Mr. Green… he’s…” The words came small, distant. “He’s dead. In the stable.” Frank Harrison — tall and hard as the anvil he worked — didn’t move at first. Then he knelt. “You sure, Billy?” Billy nodded. Frank saw it — not fear, but something colder. A truth seen too soon. He put both hands on the boy’s shoulders. “You did right, son. Telling me first. That’s what a man does.” Billy sniffled and nodded. The words sank deep. Frank’s heart was heavy, but he hid it well. Just last night he and Jacob had spoken like always. Now… He walked Billy back to the house near the forge. Told his wife what had happened, how to handle the boy. Praised Billy again. Told her to bake something the boy liked. “Strong men eat well,” he said with a wink. That wink took effort. But the boy, calm and upright, was holding fast. Frank left. He had to see for himself. He rode hard to the stable, dismounted, stepped inside — and stopped cold. Jacob’s head hung by a strip of flesh, swinging like a butcher’s bird. Frank let nearest house — the elder’s. Patrick Stones. He went straight there. The old man opened the door. “Morning, Mr. Stones.” Like most in Blackwood, Frank respected the man whose parents had helped raise the village out of the forest. Patrick was nearing sixty, but still wiry and bright-eyed. Beekeeping had kept him sound. “Morning, Frank!” Patrick squinted at him. “What’s wrong?” “Jacob Green’s been killed. In the stable.” The words landed like stone. “I figured you ought to know, sir.”
Genre Fiction
Author Website https://reyusmammadli.com
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