The Ripper's Time

by Mark R. Vogel

The Ripper's Time is Mark Vogel's second novel, published in January 2017.

        History professor Henry Willows is in love—in love with Catherine Eddowes, the fourth victim of Jack the Ripper. Although over a century distant, Henry’s obsession knows no bounds. With the aid of an ingenious physicist, Henry achieves his raison d'être: a means to travel back in time, stop the world’s most infamous serial killer, and save the woman he loves. But the fabric of time is not that easy to change…and the Ripper has plans of his own.

          Here is a sample chapter:

Thursday August 30, 1888


            Back and forth he slid the blade along the length of the stone, flipping it before each pass. Slow and methodical, his body swaying in unison to the cadence of the strokes. He was spellbound. Back and forth—back and forth—back and forth.

            He stopped, held the blade against his forearm, almost parallel, and slid it toward his wrist. Effortlessly, it sheared a swath of bare skin. Almost there. He returned the blade to the stone and resumed his tempo. The sound of the steel scraping the cold stone soothed him. Its ghastly melody complemented the macabre musings waltzing across his mind.

            A cacophony of high-pitched voices broke his concentration. Infuriated, he stormed to the window and leered into the street below. A trio of intoxicated prostitutes had just staggered out of the corner pub. They stood in front of his building cackling—taunting him—tempting him. He scowled as his fist tightened around the knife’s handle.

            Staring at the women, their shrill voices subsided into the background. His mind drifted . . . to a tortuous past—before she was committed to the earth. The painful memories, now reaching beyond the grave, needling the dark labyrinth of his psyche. His entire body stiffened as he white-knuckled the knife and mumbled a series of vicious profanities.

            He returned to the stone, and the rhythm of the blade. It pacified his wrath. His thoughts reverted back to the women in the street—and the knife in his hand. A thin, half-smile curled up the right side of his closed mouth, then a slight snicker. He was going hunting tonight.


Back and forth—back and forth—back and forth.

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