From perverse acts of cannibalism and dark sexual fantasies to vicious acts motivated by greed and a simple lust for blood, this book reveals the methods and motivations of some of the world's most notorious serial killers, including Juan Corona, Ian Brady and Myra Hindley, Pee Wee Gaskins, and Ivan Milat.

    The only surviving member of this tragic ordeal was Ronald DeFeo Jr., who was later charged and convicted to six-life-sentences. Still, the evidence shows that Ronnie "Butch" DeFeo could not have killed all six of his family members by himself, while they lay sleeping in their beds. Thirteen months later, the Lutz family moved into the lavish Dutch Colonial home and moved out mysteriously after just 28-days with only the clothes on their backs, claiming that the house was haunted; they would never return! Then came a media frenzy and with the release of Jay Anson's runaway best selling book, "The Amityville Horror," which was later transformed into a blockbuster movie, the story became an international phenomenon. What really happened at 112 Ocean Ave. in Amityville? Mentally Ill in Amityville (MIA), is the true story of the events as they occurred, with exclusive interviews and official documents of these dramatic events. MIA is a must read for anyone who wants to know the complete story behind the most famous haunted house in the world

    He'd been shot at least four times in the head, decapitated, and set on fire. Who could have turned on the ambitious real-estate ace with such bloodthirsty fury? Even before the remains were found, circumstantial evidence was building against Rudin's tempestuous 52-year-old wife, Margaret, who stood to inherit a handsome share of her husband's fortune. Rudin's friends also suspected Margaret, and Rudin himself had thought that his wife was trying to poison him when he was alive. Then a chilling caveat was discovered in Rudin's living trust: that should he die under violent circumstances, an investigation should be conducted. By the time authorities closed in on Margaret Rudin, she'd disappeared. It would take two-and-a-half years to hunt the Black Widow down, and to discover the cold-blooded secrets at the heart of a poisonous marriage....BUT VENGEANCE WOULD COME-FROM THE GRAVE.... Now, reporter Michael Fleeman delivers a startling glimpse into the mind of a woman who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted as she drove the man who had promised to love and honor her to secretly fear her. Fleeman also details the relentless pursuit of justice that would lead authorities from the glamorous faade of Las Vegas to a squalid apartment on the outskirts of Boston to hold the remorseless wife accountable for her shocking and unfathomable crimes.

    However, the Crown Prosecution Service refused to charge him, citing a lack of evidence.High-profile searches were conducted, yet Suzy’s body was never found; the trail that might lead investigators to her, long since lost.Haunted by another missing person case, investigator and former Scotland Yard detective, David Videcette, has spent five years painstakingly reinvestigating Suzy’s cold case disappearance.Through a series of incredible new witness interviews and fresh groundbreaking analysis, he uncovers piece by piece what happened to Suzy and why the case was never solved.People don't just disappear...

    Names like Bundy, Gacy, and Gein come to mind, alongside the many other murderous people out there who've gained notoriety because of their evil. When you're envisioning the unthinkable and heinous acts that are carried out in this world, it's unlikely you imagine a youngster as being a perpetrator of evil.Killer children, although rare, do exist. The thought alone is terrifying; we see children as being vulnerable and pure, which makes it harder to comprehend them wanting to inflict pain and suffering on another being. The correlation of a child and unthinkable acts of murder is undeniably tricky to compute.The children in this book carried out acts of savage murder - even just typing that sentence feels wrong. Some of these murders are sexually motivated; some are carried out for revenge; others are part of an occult ritual. Regardless of the motivation for these children to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty, they are all disturbing.This book was written to give you some food for thought, to allow you to digest some of the heinous crimes committed by youngsters and consider why they'd carry out such horrific acts. This book will open up a world of questions, many of which I've likely pondered upon myself. While I do offer up my own opinion throughout this book, I do need to (as much as possible) stick to the facts to let you make your own mind up.With that in mind, let's delve into some of the despicably horrific murders that were carried out by children.

    

     This is my true story about living with a monster, a monster that only those in my household would have ever had the unfortunate chance to meet, the monster I called my daddy!!! We cannot choose who we are related to, but we can sure as hell despise them. My story is hard to read in parts I am not going to lie, but was even harder to live it. It has taken 35 years but I am living proof that just because your life starts our feeling pointless and a punishment that you don't have to accept it. As an adult. you are the only person in control of your life and only you can make the changes if they are needed. My life was in his hands for a long time!!! Now you have chance to hold my life in your own... If my book can help just one person, then I feel that my horrible childhood might have a purpose and not just be a punishment. I will say that have no regrets, what happened in my life has happened and can never be undone

    Married at 16 to a Dublin criminal, she endured years of relentless mental and physical torture until she found the strength to fight back.This is her courageous story told with brutal honesty and at times humour. It chronicles her descent to the brink of suicide and consequent rebuilding of her life.This unique account is essential reading for all those who have ever endured cruelty at the hands of a man, or another human being for that matter. It gives hope to all those who have been victimised.One day she found the courage to change the locks, seek a divorce and let his mistress have him for keeps. It was then that she realised he meant the vows he took on his wedding day - 'Till death do us part…'The names and identities of the characters in the book have been changed to protect the author who still lives in daily terror.

    The Furnace Girl is Kraig Moreland's theory of what really happened to Elfrieda Knaak, as told to and beautifully written by Toby Jones, It is a stranger-than-fiction story, told through the eyes of Griff Morgan, a young orphan boy, whose harrowing journey makes him an accidental witness to what still remains one of the most puzzling, unsolved crimes of the early 1900s.   In this fictionalized account of the mystery, Griff and his young sister land at the Lake Bluff Orphanage, where they must learn to navigate their new surroundings and face their fears. The 12-year-old Griff stumbles upon unlawful activity throughout the town, from Elfrieda’s illicit relationship with a married man, (and prime suspect) to characters so dark that he feels his safety slipping away with every day.  The Furnace Girl appeals to crime buffs and those looking for a powerful coming-of-age story that pulls on even the toughest of heartstrings.

    The pay was good and the work was easy - or so he thought. Then the truth was revealed: he had to sail to South America to collect one of the biggest shipments of cocaine ever bound for the UK. And to the gangsters who hired him, refusal was not an option.There followed a harrowing journey to Venezuela, where almost £50 million of coke was waiting. But someone had tipped off the authorities. Donald and his fellow crewman were arrested, convicted of drug smuggling and sentenced to six years in the notorious island prison of San Antonio.He soon discovered why Venezuela’s prisons are the most violent in the world, a nightmare gulag where hundreds are killed and thousands maimed every year in riots, vendettas and petty disputes. Thrown into a filthy, over-crowded dormitory known as Pavilion 4, and surrounded by armed gangs, crack addicts, death and disease, he faced a daily fight to survive. Ferocious guards beat prisoners indiscriminately and many cut themselves in “blood strikes” to protest against the scarce food, undrinkable water and lack of medical care. Finally a war broke out between two prison compounds, involving guns, machetes and even grenades.Through it all, and despite witnessing the brutal killing of his friend and mentor, MacNeil clung to the belief that one-day he would be home. Journey To Hell is a harrowing but compelling account of man’s extraordinary will to survive in a world gone mad.

    In her harrowing yet inspiring memoir, she tells her personal story of falling under the spell of her control-freak husband, suffering a decade of domestic violence, finding the strength to leave and then his despicable act of revenge. Denise endured agonising grief and heavy guilt, but she has slowly rebuilt her life without her beautiful boys – learning to live, love and trust again.This is her heartbreaking memoir.

    the case involved a subculture which is stranger than fiction - a place where your mother could also be your aunt, where revenge was sought in a pig?head thrown through a window, and where the main suspect?obsession with aliens was not considered unusual. Greg Domaszewicz, the boyfriend of Jaidyn?mother Bilynda was tried for Jaidyn?murder. Contains detailed interviews with Jaidyn?parents, Domaszewicz?former lover and his friends (who all turned police informers virtually from day one). the author was granted unprecedented access to police diaries and files.

    Louis housewife who abandoned her family and became the sex-slave of ex-Folsom Prison convict Greg Marlow, known to his fellow inmates as "Folsom Wolf". Together, the pair went on a cross-country spree of sex, torture and murder that ended with their convictions and death sentences.

    But in "The Unforgiven", three young children are in the back seat of a car driven by Amanda Hamm's boyfriend as it slips into an Illinois lake. Amanda and her boyfriend survive. Her three children do not. The question of whether it was a horrible accident or a murderous plot divided family and friends and traumatized the entire community. The brief but intense police investigation included seven interviews Hamm voluntarily gave police without the benefit of counsel. The outcome remains controversial to this day and comes full circle with state child welfare workers' concern about children born to Hamm since the fateful day at Clinton Lake. "The Unforgiven" co-author and journalist Edith Brady-Lunny covered the case from start-to-finish, beginning the night of the drownings. Her co-author Steve Vogel lives nearby. His "Reasonable Doubt", considered a true crime classic, was a New York Times best-seller. Together they have extensive first-hand knowledge of the case and access to nearly every record related to the court proceedings.

     As a child, I was known as "Jessica Pelley." When I was nine, I went to a sleepover at a friend's house for the weekend. While I was away, my entire family was murdered. I would spend the next 30 years fighting, crawling, and clawing my way through the darkness. This wasn't just a national news headline, a cold case, or a true crime show. It was my family. And my life. I was the broken little girl left behind to tell this story. I am now "Jessi," in the pages of this unapologetic memoir, set free. *** JESSI - APRIL 29, 2016 April 29, 1989. A date I cannot forget. Numbers forever seared deep into my soul. It was 27 years ago, today. Jesus. Get a grip, Jessi. They’re just numbers. They don’t mean anything. You’re giving them power over you, again. That’s what I tell myself. But the numbers—those damn numbers—they haunt me. They always will. I cannot escape them. Not now. Not ever. For most people, dates are just numbers on a calendar. No big deal. Random markers of time affixed to the top left corner of small, white squares on a page to depict days filled with choices, chances, and opportunities. At least that’s what they are for the normal people. But I’m no longer one of them. For me, they serve as numeric reminders of the girl I used to be. A tragedy that would irrevocably and mercilessly alter the life of a little girl wearing dark blue jeans, canvas lace-up sneakers, and a white tee shirt, accessorized by prominent coke bottle glasses, her hair hanging in a messy bob. Her life would be forever dismantled. Gone. The moment they told me the words. The ones that I will never forget. At that moment, my life froze and shattered into pieces, splintering like bits of broken glass, dropping down onto the ground around me, like the remnants of a cracked windshield, falling fast before the spinning mind and broken heart of a wide-eyed little girl. Life, as I knew it, was over in that moment. What happened on April 29, 1989, has scarred me forever. A day that started out normally, before it became ensnared in marred memories, tucked between folds of tragedy and darkness. The lingering memories cut straight to the core of the hollow girl left behind. The darkness delivers itself to me, every year, on schedule. Steadily. Greedily. On the 29th day of April. Relentless. Haunting. It taunts the pieces of me that remain. Every single year. I try to lift myself out of the darkness. I tell myself the numbers shouldn’t matter. Not after 27 years have passed. Jessi, It’s just another day. You can do anything you want with it. Don’t slip into the darkness. But not even the voice in my head believes those lies I tell myself. Year after year, my happiness recoils, my thoughts run to a dark place filled with foggy memories and a void that swallows me whole. The door of despair opens and I’m trapped: alone, numb to the bone, emotionally deplete, void of all reality, space, and time. I hate the helplessness as I slip further into that dark place. A place that, long ago, was filled with light. A place where three little girls would sing happy songs, pick flowers, hold hands while skipping through tall blades of grass, and sit down at the dining room table, where they would bow their heads to pray before plates filled with food, in a home filled with laughter. Then it hits me—the life-defining, self-inflicted images of horror—of their final moments—dragging me deep into the darkness.