I didn’t plan to write a true crime book. But this one found me.
I never set out to become a true crime author.
In fact, I wasn’t even looking for a story.
I was living in Crystal Beach, Florida — a sleepy, sun-warmed place with scallop beds and bike paths, retirees and dock fishing, where the Gulf breeze makes you forget the rest of the world exists.
It was quiet.
It was safe.
It was… Mayberry.
And then one day, I opened a local history book — and stumbled onto a murder so shocking, so gruesome, so bizarre, I almost didn’t believe it was real.
🕯️ Blood in the Garage. A Killer on the Loose.
The book I found was called Crystal Beach: Shangri-La. A sweet little collection of resident memories: beach bonfires, summer dances, walking to the store barefoot.
But tucked between the nostalgia was something else.
A woman recalled being six years old…
Staring through a window…
Watching blood pool on the floor of a neighbor’s house.
She said the smell still haunts her.
And just like that, I was hooked.
🏚️ The Murder House Was 100 Yards From My Front Door
As I dug deeper, the story got worse.
And closer.
I learned the house where it happened — where a man tied up a couple, tortured them for hours, murdered one, and attacked two more victims — stood just a football field away from where I lived.
I’d walked past it dozens of times. With my dog. On early morning strolls. Oblivious.
After that, I couldn’t not write this book.
💀 The Villain Was Real — And Terrifying
His name was Rastus Russell.
A drifter. A charmer. A violent escapee with a history of psychiatric commitment and manipulation.
He wasn’t just dangerous.
He was smart.
He slipped through the system again and again.
And when he came to Crystal Beach in 1949, something inside him finally snapped.
What followed wasn’t just a murder.
It was a siege.
A psychological horror movie played out in a postcard-perfect town.
🧠 Charles Manson Meets Mayberry
That’s how I describe this story to people now.
It’s a Southern Gothic thriller disguised as a piece of local history.
A vintage horror story that actually happened.
A world of unlocked doors, iced tea, and innocence — violated by something dark, calculating, and feral.
The story was loaded with myth, legend and hearsay.
That’s why I spent a year of my life researching the real story.
What really happened.
What got covered up.
What never got written down.
Now it’s all in a book.
📖 MADMAN is That Book
It’s not fiction.
It’s not dramatized.
But it reads like a psychological thriller.
Because some stories don’t knock.
They walk through the screen door and never leave.
I thought Crystal Beach was the safest place I’d ever lived.
Turns out… it was the setting for one of Florida’s most forgotten nightmares.
