Savage Lane

Cold Caller

Nothing Personal

Fake I.D.

Hard Feelings

Tough Luck

Twisted City

Lights Out

The Follower

Panic Attack

The Pack

The Craving

Natural Enemy

With Ken Bruen:

Bust

Slide

The Max

Pimp

Graphic Novels:

The Chill

Wolverine Max (Volumes 1-3)

The Returning

Karen Daily, recently divorced, lives with her two kids in a quaint suburb of New York City. She’s teaching at a nearby elementary school, starting to date again, and for the first time in years has found joy in her life. Mark Berman, Karen’s friend and neighbor, wants out of his unhappy marriage, and so does his wife, Deb, but they have been staying together for their kids.

Unbeknownst to Karen, Mark has a rich fantasy life about her which has grown into a full-blown obsession. As rumors about Karen spread and a bigger secret is uncovered she becomes a murder suspect and the target of a twisted psychopath. Jason Starr is one of our most accomplished writers of the darkness that lies within the human heart, and SAVAGE LANE is his both riveting and intimate novel yet—a dark, domestic thriller and an honest, searing satire of a declining marriage, suburban life, and obsessive love.

For Chynna

“Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.”

- Raymond Carver,
Cathedral

A
FTER THE
dinner party at the Lerners’ new 2.6 million-dollar house in Bedford Hills, Mark Berman knew that his wife, Deb, was pissed off at him about something. He had no idea what he’d done, but after twenty-two years together—seventeen married—he didn’t have to ask her if there was a problem. He just knew.

During the car ride home to South Salem, Deb was still acting weird, but Mark knew if he said something it would lead to a whole discussion, even a fight, so why go there? Instead he went on about the Lerners’ house—“Can you believe the size of that backyard? The freakin’ Jets could play there. And the pool was sick.”—and then went over the schedule for tomorrow: Deb would take Justin to his swimming practice at nine, and he would drive Riley to her school play rehearsal at ten on his way to play golf at the country club, and then she would pick up Riley at noon on her way back from swimming. As he was talking, Deb nodded, said, “Okay,” a couple times, but that was it. A few minutes later they were driving along the dark, twisty Saw Mill River Parkway, and she was staring out the window, not saying anything. Sick of the silence, Mark turned on SiriusXM to the Classic Rewind channel—the chorus of “Dream On.”

Then, after maybe thirty seconds, Deb, still looking out the window, said, “I saw you.”

“What?” Mark had heard her; he just wanted to hear her say it again.

“I saw you,” she said.

“You saw me,” he said, not as a question. “You saw me where?”

Looking out at the window, at the darkness, or maybe at her reflection, she didn’t answer.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Actually Mark did know, but he didn’t want to say it himself. If she wanted to say it, make an issue out of it, let her.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Deb said, turning toward him.

Though he was looking at the road, not at her, he knew exactly what expression she had—that one where she squinted and her nostrils flared and she looked like she wanted to rip his head off. Yeah, he’d seen that look a few hundred thousand times.

“No, I don’t,” Mark said. “I have no idea, okay?”

She turned away again.

Steven Tyler was screeching the chorus. Mark lowered the music, and said, “I don’t get this, you know? Everything’s cool, we have a good night together, out with friends, and then out of nowhere you have to launch into me.”

“How’m I
launching
into you?”

He didn’t like the way she’d said that, like she was mocking him. “It’s weird, okay?” He squinted because the guy driving toward him had his fucking brights on. “I mean this whole attitude of yours is weird. It’s like you’re looking for drama, like you
want
drama.”

“
I
want drama?”

“Like right now,” he said. “Like the way you’re repeating everything I say. You know it annoys the hell out of me, but you keep doing it anyway. It’s like you get off on it or some shit.”

“I think you’re the one causing drama in this marriage.”

“
What
?”

“I saw you, okay? I saw you.”

“Saw me?” He pretended to think about it. “Saw me where?”

“Outside… in the backyard.”

There was no use denying it anymore. “Oh, come on. Is that what this is all about?”

“I’m so angry at you right now,” Deb said.

“Nothing happened with Karen, okay?” Mark said. “I can’t believe you’re actually accusing me of something. It’s so ridiculous.”

Karen was a neighbor, a friend, who’d also been at the Lerners’ dinner party.

“You were holding her hand,” Deb said.

“I was not holding her hand,” Mark said.

“You were holding her hand,” Deb said.

Mark let out an annoyed breath, shaking his head. “I was not holding her hand, okay? Maybe we held hands for like a second, but—”

“It was longer than a second.”

“A few seconds, whatever, but it was totally innocent, okay? We were talking, just talking, and she was upset, you know, she’s been having some financial trouble, that investment advisor fucked her over, and I was gonna put her in touch with my guy,
our
guy, Dave Anderson. That was who we were talking about—Dave, Dave Anderson. Anyway, she was upset, and I was talking to her about it, giving her some advice, that’s it, okay? And, yeah, maybe at one point I may have held her hand, just in a like friendly supportive way, but—”