Case OG – Trafficked Secrets

Every series has an origin story. This was mine.

As I sit here reflecting or maybe just procrastinating—while I should be editing the fourth installment of Blake & Turner, I want to take you back to where it all began. The first case. The first obsession.

Yes, Trafficked Secrets.

And yes, let’s pause and gasp at the fact that I still read the newspaper. The actual paper kind. Black ink smudges, folded edges, the ritual of turning each page. Okay…gasp over. Thank you.

I grew up in a small town. The kind of place where you’re supposed to know your neighbors and sleep with your doors unlocked. But here’s the truth: small towns don’t mean small problems.

Somewhere along the way, I started noticing a pattern—those small missing-person notices in the back pages. A girl’s face, staring back in grainy black and white. And always the same look in their eyes: a question, a plea, maybe even a secret.

I’d find myself asking: Where are you? Who’s looking for you? Who loves you enough to keep your name alive?

The brutal truth and this broke me when I began researching is that not all of them had someone asking. Not all of them had families who could fight for them. But they were still people. Still human. Still deserving of love and protection.

That’s what pushed me into the research rabbit hole. That’s what built the bones of Trafficked Secrets.

Today, I want to pay respect to all the victims of sex trafficking not just the ones whose stories made headlines, but every single one. And if shining a light through fiction can help raise awareness, if it can even reach one person who needs to see it… then every page is worth it.
This post is the first in a series where I’ll be exploring the reality of trafficking what it looks like, how it happens, and why I felt compelled to write about it through Blake & Turner.

Stay tuned for Part 2: What Trafficking Really Looks Like.