How Do Modern Thriller Books Portray Women Investigators?

In a deadly game of spies and dealers, trust is the ultimate weapon—and love the most dangerous betrayal. Sabrina is a cold, detached assassin, trained to infiltrate, manipulate, and eliminate without hesitation. But her latest mission is different: Viktor, a sadistic arms dealer with a dangerous empire, is her target. What begins as a professional operation soon turns into a psychological nightmare. Viktor has secrets of his own and plays a twisted game, pushing her to her limits with violence and manipulation. As Sabrina is drawn deeper into his dark world, she begins to lose herself, torn between completing the mission and the suffocating love Viktor offers. She must decide: escape or join him in the darkness.

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

A series of past murders catch the attention of the police and the media. All the people who were killed were women, all of which had some sort of relationship with a well known and successful businessman named Asriel Parker. For some reason, the murders all point to him as the number one suspect and connection between them. The reasonable thing to do is to put him behind bars but there is one problem. "Everyone is innocent in the eyes of the law until proven guilty." There isn't a shred of evidence that actually pinpoints Asriel Parker as the culprit. With that statement in mind, Selena March, a good police officer and detective is sent undercover as his live-in Personal Assistant to dig up whatever information she can use to put the murderer behind bars. Selena has no idea what she signs up for but she knows for a fact that falling in love is not part of the whole 'undercover' mission

Special Agent Violet (sometimes Secret Agent Violet) is one of the FBI's best agents. She's very good at deducing people and observing things most people missed. She's socially inept with no friends. She's very dedicated and loves her work...so much. The word love is alien to her. Relationships were nothing for her. She just needs work, work, work, and work. Her heart was stone-cold. "Karate chopping the clichés and norms all in a dress." She's a special agent. And she's Violet.

There are three things Samara Culkin loves: her father, wearing high heels, and being a detective. But in a world where being a female officer is considered weak, she struggles to find a place where she feels truly belong. Determined to prove The Detective Tag firm that she is worth it, she sets out to solve one of the biggest cases the city of Los Angeles has ever seen. There are three things Clayton Jones likes: his car, detective skills, and the female detective who happens to catch his eye—Samara. As an expert and well-known crime officer, he is given the chance to work with her; a one-time possibility that rarely happens. The only problem is that she hates him. And he does not know why. The Detective Tag is a crime fiction with a twist of romance. Join Samara and Clayton—all the bitterness, dislikes, and romance in between—as they dive into the world of crime cases and murder investigations. Well, maybe a bit of finding love, too.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.