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Raul Sanchez
Paul Reston
Vicodin
Molly Palmer
Quentin Parker
The Last Victim
Addy Jackson
Archie Sheridan
Gretchen Lowell
Susan Ward
James Beaton
Samantha Huffington
Colin Beaton
Pearl Clinton
Archie Sheridan
Claire Masland
Mike Flannigan
Jeff Heil
Martin Ngyun
Greg Fremont
Josh Levy
Main Page
Discuss
All Pages
Community
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Recent Blog Posts
Raul Sanchez
Paul Reston
Vicodin
Molly Palmer
Quentin Parker
The Last Victim
Addy Jackson
Archie Sheridan
Gretchen Lowell
Susan Ward
James Beaton
Samantha Huffington
Colin Beaton
Pearl Clinton
Archie Sheridan
Claire Masland
Mike Flannigan
Jeff Heil
Martin Ngyun
Greg Fremont
Josh Levy
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The "Beauty Killer" is the moniker given to the killer eventually revealed to be Gretchen Lowell , who terrorized the northwest for ten years. The name "Beauty Killer" was given by Quentin Parker. He states: "I asked the ME who examined Sheridan's dead hooker to characterize the condition of the corpse. She'd been cut up pretty bad. He whistled and said, 'it's a beauty.'" The Beauty Killer Task Force was initially convened with the purpose of catching the Beauty Killer, though it was later reconvened as the more general Major Case Task Force.
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Beauty Killers: The True Story of a Successful Businessman, His Young Lover, and Their Murderous Rampage Mass Market Paperback – April 27, 2010
by
Kathy Braidhill
(Author)
3.6 out of 5 stars
17 ratings
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Publisher
:
St. Martin's True Crime; 1st edition (April 27, 2010) Language
:
English Mass Market Paperback
:
240 pages ISBN-10
:
0312949545 ISBN-13
:
978-0312949549 Item Weight
:
4.8 ounces Dimensions
:
4.25 x 0.75 x 6.5 inches
3.6 out of 5 stars
17 ratings
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I haven't read it as yet. I knew Jessie Peters so not sure I can read after I saw the pictures that girl drew of what they did to her.
Great book. What a sad true story, all teenagers need to read this , to be aware of the inherent danger out there. Michelle curran was a beautiful girl, god rest her soul.
Amazing view of two people's egos fueled by drugs who thought they were beyond the reach of the law. Strong characters. I could feel sympathy for the victims.
horrific. could not put it down. read in one sitting.
Well written and has a clear narative style. Seemed to be well researched and covered case files on both Janeen and Michael pretty close.
Kathy Braidhill has put forth a very compelling telling of what has to be one of the most manipulative serial killers I have ever read or heard about. Initially, I hesitated at purchasing this book, after reading some not so good reviews, but decided to check it out for myself. I was not disappointed. I read through it in one evening, unable to tear myself away. Another reader complained that not enough background details about the two killers was given. But I came away feeling that the reader does not really need much more than what was given-- The author gave enough information. (perhaps this person should go back and reread the book).
I read alot of true crime books and this one was one of the weakest ones I have read in a long time. The killers were sick and twisted and got what they deserved but there was not enough details about their backgrounds and upbringing. Next time instead of pre-ordering the book paying full price and reading it in a couple of day I will wait to for the story on 48-hours.
First, turn to the pictures section and check out Janeen Snyder's mug shot. If that doesn't send a chill down your spine you might be dead. This girl was the epitome of a nut bag and her Svengali father figure Micheal rounds out a cast of crazy killers. I have been reading a lot lately about tag team man and woman killers and found these two to be the darkest of the bunch. Yes, this is a lighter read for those of us who enjoy more of a well researched tome for TC fare. However, this book doesn't disappoint. Have fun also looking up Janeen's current Jailbait ads for a pen pal. She is about 40 pounds heavier and a brunette sitting on death row looking for some affection. Based on her bloody poster artwork though, I would not encourage you to write. Lastly, someone related to one of the young victims wrote some vitriol on another site stating Braidhill was trying to profit from their pain. I see these books as a tribute to lives that no one would ever hear about if these authors did not take the time to write. She never put any victim in a negative light and I would be proud to have her write about my family.
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Janeen Snyder was only fourteen when she moved in with Michael Thornton, his wife, and teenage daughter. Michael was a successful entrepreneur and family man with eight beauty salons and a six-figure income-but two years later, he gave it all up to run away with Janeen. At last, on the road with his new young lover, Michael could indulge his darkest, wildest obsessions ...
They worked together as a team, luring girls into their twisted world of violence, and depravity. They drugged them, trained them, bound them, abused them. And for many years, Michael and Janeen were never caught...until police uncovered the body of a Las Vegas teen in a horse trailer. One by one, detectives found other victims-the lucky ones who survived, but had been too terrified to come forward. Soon, the world would learn just how sick and deranged these lovers really were.
Beauty Killers is a terrifying true story of sex, torture and murder--an illicit affair between two people who discovered a desire to kill...
Janeen Snyder was only fourteen when she moved in with Michael Thornton, his wife, and teenage daughter. Michael was a successful entrepreneur and family man with eight beauty salons and a six-figure income―but two years later, he gave it all up to run away with Janeen. At last, on the road with his new young lover, Michael could indulge his darkest, wildest obsessions―for bondage, torture, rape, and worse…
They worked together as a team, luring girls into their twisted world of sex, mind control, violence, and depravity. They drugged them, trained them, bound them, abused them. And for many years, Michael and Janeen were never caught…until police uncovered the dead, distorted body of a Las Vegas teen in a horse trailer. One by one, detectives found other victims―the lucky ones who survived, but had been too terrified to come forward. Soon, the world would learn just how sick and deranged these lovers really were…
Kathy Braidhill is an award-winning investigative journalist and the author of three true crime books: Chop Shop , Evil Secrets , and To Die For . She was a primary contributor to the bestselling book on O.J. Simpson's defense team, American Tragedy , which she also co-produced as a CBS television mini-series.
One Lindholm Ranch Rubidoux, California April 17, 2001, 4 p.m. Diane Lindholm rounded the corner in her noisy pickup truck, passing the new suburban subdivisions carved from the ranches that once dominated rural Riverside, California. One by one, ranchers had cashed out to developers, resulting in a jarring mix of empty, overgrown lots and urban sprawl next to the older mansions of monied ranchers. Lindholm, fifty, lived and worked on her own ranch, or ranchette, as purists would put it. The two-and-a-half-acre property had a barn, two corrals where Lindholm trained horses and gave riding lessons, and a tack room to store saddles, bridles, and horse grooming gear. The ranch, where Lindholm lived with her twelve-year-old son, Eric, was two miles from a newly sprouted development of ranch-style homes whose driveways featured shiny sport utility vehicles that rarely touched dirt. Lindholm’s Ford F-250 diesel truck was dusty from hauling hay and horse tack and pulling her horse trailer. Her natural blond ringlets falling to her shoulders, Lindholm pulled into the driveway and hopped out of her truck to unlock the gate. She frowned when she saw the lock dangling from the latch and a glint from a link in the broken metal chain shining on the gravel driveway. The rest of the chain was wrapped around the gate. Lindholm’s first thought was that teenagers had broken in to bother the horses, but her concern was mounting. Her son hadn’t been at the bus stop waiting for her to pick him up, and it was too quiet. Where were her dogs, Zachary and Sparky? Lindholm parked in the driveway and walked across the front lawn toward the house, not knowing whether to be annoyed or scared. BLAM! Lindholm froze. Gunshots were not uncommon in the semi-rural area. People sometimes shot rabbits in the seven-acre field behind her property or hunted the wild pigs that foraged in the riverbed bordering her property. Despite her fear, Lindholm was determined to check inside the house to see if her son was there. A few steps from the front door, she was startled to see someone out of the corner of her eye. A young woman with long, blond hair emerged from the breezeway adjoining the house and the tack room. “Can I help you?” Lindholm called out to her. “I’ve been hired to work here,” the girl replied. She was lying. Lindholm hadn’t hired anyone. Fidgety and thin, the girl wore trendy jeans with holes at the knees and a light-colored top, hardly the type of outfit one would wear to muck out a barn or bale hay. Lindholm heard a man’s voice coming from behind the vine-covered trellis that shielded the breezeway. She couldn’t see the man or make out the words, but his voice was low and authoritative, as if he was giving directions. The girl looked toward the source of the voice, then back at Lindholm. She didn’t know why the strange girl was on her property and began worrying about her son’s whereabouts. “O.K.,” Lindholm responded, thinking quickly. “I’m just going to run inside and get a glass of water.” She tried to stay calm as she walked the remaining few yards to her front door. Once inside, she thought only of her son as she raced frantically through the house to his bedroom. She didn’t notice the kitchen window pane on the counter. She tore open her son’s bedroom door. He wasn’t there. She ran to the kitchen phone and dialed 9-1-1. The dispatcher told her to leave the house immediately. She was instructed to lock the house, walk slowly to her truck, drive to a neighbor’s house and wait for police. As Lindholm spoke with the dispatcher, she watched the young woman standing in the breezeway, turning to her right and looking down, apparently talking with the man hiding behind the trellis. From the house, Lindholm could see only the girl. Why hadn’t she moved from the breezeway? It seemed like a very long walk back to her truck as the gravity of the moment sank in. Lindholm was too frightened to turn her head to see if
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