Tag Archives: #shortstory

November 10, 2020 · 9:07 pm

Glimpse, the Dinner Guest by Stephen B King… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the ninth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Stephen B King’s “Glimpse, the Dinner Guest” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

Fun Fact:

The Glimpse series in part, focuses on different aspects of mental illness causing victims to cross the border into becoming criminally insane, or to put it another way, to murder people. For this story, I chose paranoid schizophrenia and the effect of the antagonist receiving electroconvulsive therapy. I was fascinated with the research results for both the illness, and the wonderful results the treatment has brought sufferers. As always, my inspiration comes from two words: what if? In this case, it was: What if the treatment only fed the paranoia? And so, the tragic story of Mervyn Biscain and the horror her wreaks on unsuspecting psychiatrists at a murder mystery dinner party where he seeks revenge, came to life

 

Blurb:

Detective Sargent and clinical psychologist, Patricia Holmes, has been invited to a murder mystery dinner party at a small luxury hotel located in Western Australia. The dinner is a reunion party for the psychologists and psychiatrists who work at Perth’s largest mental hospital, which treats the criminally insane.

But there is an uninvited guest–a former patient who is hungry for revenge. In fact, he is ravenous. He will stop at nothing until he murders the doctor who gave him painful, electroconvulsive therapy.

Detective Sargent Holmes must stop a frenzied killer on a vicious spree—but can she save the other guests, or will she be the last one left alive?

Excerpt:

Pat knocked on the door of number ten and hoped she had caught Ruth before she went downstairs to the bar. From inside, she heard a muffled woman’s voice. “Can you get that, Tony,” The next moment, the door was yanked open, and a tall distinguished looking man wearing a tuxedo performed a double take when he saw her.

“Jesus Christ, are you all right?” he said with concern in his voice, and Pat realized the effect her slashed and bloody top had on him.

Pat gave a small laugh, which, when she glanced again at his face, grew louder, and threatened to become hysterical. “I’m fine, thank you. Dress scary, the invite said, so I did. I’ve got to say; your tuxedo isn’t scary at all. I’m Patricia Holmes and would like to have a few words with Ruth, if I can, before festivities get underway.”

He grinned and stepped back, beckoning with his head for her to enter. “Yeah, we don’t do fancy dress-ups, sorry. We’re far too dull in our old age. Come in. Ruth is applying her make up with a trowel. I’m Tony. I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Thanks, Tony, please call me Pat, everyone does. I left Graylands quite a while ago now, and even when I was there, I was only part-time. I consulted to the criminally insane, the lifers, worst of the worst. By all means, call me morbid. These days, I’m with the police.”

He pointed to the chair by the desk for her to sit then turned his head to the bathroom. “Hon, it’s Patricia Holmes. She wants a word with you before we go downstairs. Do you want me to hang around, or can I go down and mingle?”

Ruth Hawthorne stuck her head around the doorway with a lipstick clutched in her right hand. “Hello, Pat, bloody long time no see, how are you doing?” She turned her glance to her husband, “You can leave us girls. We can go down together. Is that all right, Pat? My God, I love your outfit.”

“Thanks, Ruth. I thought I’d have a bit of fun. Going down together works for me. I need a private chat anyway…”

“Sounds ominous. You get off, Tony. Pat joined the dark side and is with the police now, but I don’t think she is here to arrest me.”

Bio:

I share a name with another, far more famous writer (shh, you know who) and I am often asked why don’t I write under a pseudonym? Well, I am Australian, living in Perth, Western Australia, Stephen King is my real name, and I have an ego. I like people to know I am an author, but I do NOT want to be confused with the other guy. I have read every book the original SK has ever written, and I often think that if I could write one tenth as well as he does, I could die a happy man. We are about the same age, give or take a year or two, and I used to think I don’t write horror or supernatural. That is, until Alicia asked me to contribute a dark thriller for the Friday the 13th series of stories, and I jumped at the chance. After all, Glimpse, The Dinner Guest is my thirteenth book………

Amazon buy link: https://amzn.to/3m1RaA8

Stephen B King
www.stephen-b-king.com
twitter: @stephenBKing1
Facebook: @stephenbkingauthor

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November 9, 2020 · 11:20 am

In the Still of the Night by Callie Hutton… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the eighth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Callie Hutton’s “In the Still of the Night” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

Fun Fact:

My daughter works Security at our local zoo and provided a great deal of information and facts for the story.

Blurb:

It was supposed to be just another overnight shift at the zoo where Holly McCabe worked…until she discovered something more dangerous than lions and tigers lurked in the darkness.

Holly McCabe works the overnight shift at the local zoo. She likes the peace and quiet but never forgets that the only thing separating her from the dangerous animals surrounding her is a fence, a moat, or a sheet of unbreakable glass.

What Holly doesn’t know is that on this night, a greater threat lurks in the darkness at the zoo. Someone who has revenge in mind. Someone who wants to kill her. But first, like the great cats on display at the zoo, he will play with her.

Excerpt:

Her last stop was the stingray touch pool where she checked the water temperature then headed back to the office.

It was nice and quiet without Rebecca offering her worries about her health and her boyfriend, usually in that order. Holly pulled out the lunch she’d stored in the refrigerator the night before. She often made extra food when she and Brad actually had dinners together and boxed the leftovers up in meal-sized containers for lunch.

She’d finished her report, eaten her meal, and played four hands of solitaire on her computer and, still, Rebecca had not returned from her rounds.

Holly picked up her radio. “Rebecca, what’s your twenty?”

No response to her request for the woman’s location. Holly tried again. Nothing. She shrugged and returned to a new solitaire game. Rebecca had probably forgotten to turn her radio on. It would not be the first time.

Another twenty minutes went by and still no Rebecca. Holly glanced at the clock on the wall. One-fifteen. Holly had paged her on the radio several times. Unless her radio was not working, or her cart’s battery was dead, she should have called her or been back by now. There was also a possibility that she’d run into trouble.

With a combination of annoyance and unease, Holly left the office and grabbed the cart she’d parked over an hour before. She rode to the back area of the zoo, following the path Rebecca would have taken.

Halfway through the rounds, at the very back of the zoo, she spotted something lying on the ground, in the middle of the roadway. From her approach, it was difficult to see what it was. It could have been an animal, but any escape from the confines of the zoo would have set off an alarm. There were wild animals, of course, who regularly found their way into the zoo.

The closer she got, the larger the object on the ground appeared. With her heart in her throat, Holly stopped the cart, climbed out and, with sweaty hands, held her flashlight up.

 

Bio:

USA Today bestselling author, Callie Hutton, is the author of more than forty-five historical romance books and historical cozy mysteries. She writes humorous and spicy Regency and Victorian with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). With a million novels sold and translated into several languages, she continues to entrance readers with her heartfelt stories.

Find Callie Here: WEBSITE

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November 8, 2020 · 12:45 pm

Retribution by DJ FitzSimons … A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the seventh of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share DJ Fitzsimon’s “Retribution” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

FUN FACT

This story is set in the town where I went to high school – Surbiton, in the county of Surrey, England. It was fun to write about Guy Fawkes night, a traditional night of fireworks, where children eat jacket potatoes (baked potatoes) and watch the big bonfires burn. I haven’t celebrated it for so long!

 

BLURB

Robbie enjoys killing beautiful women, loving nothing more than the excitement of the chase. He’s found his next victim in Petra, a deliciously enticing travel agent. Meticulously setting a trap to lure Petra towards a terrifying destiny, his plans go smoothly as he sends yet another woman to an early grave.

But has he?

Robbie is blindsided when out of nowhere, he sees Petra staring at him from a bridge—a living, breathing woman! How is it possible when he left her lying in her own blood? Returning to the scene of the crime, the psychopathic killer is in for the surprise of his life when he finds her body is missing.

As night descends on Hallow House, Robbie learns that sometimes the hunter can also be the quarry……

EXCERPT

I spot her immediately. Hard not to because she’s really good-looking. But not in the brassy ‘come and get me’ way. She’s slender, great figure, and when she walks, her long blonde hair swings across her back like a curtain falling. Our eyes meet several times as we both pick up books and look at them. Then she walks past me again, and, this time, catches me staring. But she doesn’t go all snooty and look away. No—she meets my gaze head on, holds it, and smiles shyly. Wow.

            When she leaves the bookshop, I follow her. Of course, I keep a far enough distance behind her so if she turns, she won’t see me. I just want to know where she’s going. Turns out it isn’t far. There’s a small travel agency on the corner, just down from the post office, and when she goes inside the building, I wait, out of sight, but close enough to see through the large window. She might be a customer. But no, she takes off her pretty blue coat, hangs it on a peg on the back wall and sits down at a desk. Okay. First phase completed. Now I know where to find her.

            I’m late. Harvey, my scumbag manager, gives me the ‘you’re in trouble’ glare as I enter the office. I give him a ‘go fuck yourself’ scowl right back. He’s a sorry excuse for management. But then, most of them are. He hasn’t got the balls to say anything though. Thing is, I’m no beefy tough guy – I’m five ten in my socks, and I don’t pump iron at the gym – I’m a runner. Harvey crossed me once before, and all it took was one look to freeze him. What had he seen in my eyes? That I’m a predator?

Probably—because I am.

BIO

DJ FitzSimons is new author to the thriller genre. But now she’s found it, there’s no stopping her! A misplaced Brit living in the Mid-West, she’s a Londoner, always in pursuit of authentic fish and chips. DJ is currently working on a contemporary thriller set in Oklahoma, and also writes gothic mysteries and a monthly blog under the pen name of Jude Bayton.

Contact DJ – author@judebayton.com

Or read about her antics here:

Website: https://www.judebayton.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/judebaytonauthor

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20313628.Jude_Bayton

Twitter: https://twitter.com/judebayton

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/judebayton

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November 7, 2020 · 12:23 pm

Till Death by Maureen Bonatch… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the sixth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Maureen Bonatch’s “Till Death” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

 

Fun Fact:

  • My character Gina was inspired by the character Annie Wilkes from Misery and Castle Rock.
  • Are you superstitious? I had fun researching superstitions and taking Gina’s superstitions to the extreme.

Honor, obey…or slay  

 Blurb:

Gina believes that mirrors hold bits of the soul, a rabbit’s foot brings good luck, and that marriage vows are until death. But most of all, she’s blindly followed her husband Rick’s philosophy. Nasty men get one chance to convert from their abusive ways —or suffer the consequences they bring upon themselves.  

But when she meets George, Gina begins to question everything Rick has led her to believe about men. Now Rick has George lined up to be the next man to be redeemed. Will black widow Gina honor and obey and weave her web around George, or will she become the next victim?  

Excerpt:

Honor and obey.  This was the life I knew. The one I’d created as Rick’s wife. I had to see it through. I lowered my gaze to the ground. “I meant, don’t give the neighborhood more to talk about than it already has.”

“Neighborhood? Do you mean that old man who’s been sniffing around here?” Rick smoothed his face back into the mask he shared with the world and glanced toward George’s house.

“No.” I didn’t dare look to see if George was lingering. It was a mistake to remind Rick that I might’ve made a friend. A male friend who didn’t fit into the mold Rick insisted most men did. But Rick made a lot of ruckus that could’ve attracted other attention, so when two ladies walked down the street, not giving us a second glance, I inclined my head their way.

Rick’s gaze followed mine and then returned to me. “I thought you didn’t worry about those things? About what people might think? Most people don’t see what’s justified in the world, they don’t understand the road to redemption and how we are paving it with the blood of those who don’t appreciate a woman.”

“I don’t care what they think, but this time it’s different.” I was different. But I couldn’t tell Rick that I’d begun to question the truths of performing this justice with him. All it had taken was one old man who’d experienced a loving marriage. A man who saw me as more than a cook, cleaner, and punching bag.

“It’s not really different when the end result is the same.” Rick pushed past me. He entered my house as if he owned the place, and as my husband, technically he did.

 

Bio:

Maureen Bonatch grew up in small town Pennsylvania and her love of the four seasons—hockey, biking, sweat pants and hibernation—keeps her there. While immersed in writing or reading paranormal romance and fantasy, she survives on caffeine, wine, music, and laughter. A feisty Shih Tzu keeps her in line. Find Maureen on her website, Facebook & Twitter

Be the first to know about Maureen’s book sales and new releases by following her on BookBub, Amazon and/or signing up for her newsletter

Social Media Info:

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Maureen-L.-Bonatch/e/B00KHY1KK8/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/mbonatch

Website: http://www.maureenbonatch.com

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/1AV4L

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/maureenbonatch/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/maureenlbonatch

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/maureen-l-bonatch

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3103486.Maureen_L_Bonatch

Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/mbonatch/

Contact:    maureen@maureenbonatch.com

 

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November 6, 2020 · 1:51 pm

Scorned by Anna Kittrell… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the fifth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Anna Kittrell’s “Scorned” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

FUN FACT:

While contemplating my upcoming “semicentennial” birthday, I was reminded of an experience I had a few years ago. A woman approached me following an author presentation and said, “The whole time you were up there talking, me and the gal next to me were just sitting here trying to figure out how old you are, trying to get clues from the things you were saying.” It was then I realized that I do the exact same thing! Why is knowing a person’s age so intriguing? Maybe it’s because aging is one thing we all have in common. Or maybe we just want to see how we measure up in the gray hair and wrinkles department. Whatever the reason, for some of us, age-guessing makes for a fun and fascinating pastime.

Gwen, the main character in my Friday the 13th story, SCORNED, detests the thought of growing old. But as I pedal without brakes toward the big Five Oh, there’s one thing I’d love to share with Gwen—there are plenty of things left to look forward to in middle age and beyond. Why should all of the excitement in life be reserved for the first half? Why can’t the second half be even more fun? At age forty I was published in Writer’s Digest, learned to apply false eyelashes, and got braces on my teeth. At forty-one my first book was published, and at forty-three I had the divine honor of becoming a grandmother! Today I approach fifty with ten published books and several magazine publications under my belt. My advice to Gwen and anyone else who abhors the thought of growing older is this: LOVE yourself fully—including your age. After all, growing older isn’t an affliction, it’s an opportunity.

BLURB:

When bank manager Gwen Chester discovers her husband, Robert, is seeing a younger woman, she does what any confident businesswoman would do—doubts herself. But her quest to get into shape leads her to a local gym, she comes face to face with Tara, the young beauty who has stolen Robert’s heart and, more importantly, Gwen’s self-worth. Overcome with rage, Gwen threatens Tara who, to Gwen’s horror, is found dead the following morning.

With all fingers, including Robert’s, pointing to Gwen as the killer, she enlists a friend’s help in a desperate scheme to find out the true identity of Tara’s murderer. The plan goes awry when Gwen finds her friend lying dead in a retail storeroom. Gwen decides to conduct her own investigation and discovers that not only is her marriage in danger—so is her life.

Can Gwen escape an intricate web of deceit and murder? Or is “till death do us part” a vow her husband intends to keep?

EXCERPT:

Anxiety eased from Gwen’s mind while she worked her muscles. Inhaling positivity and exhaling negativity, she closed her eyes, envisioning the unsightly parts of her life melting away with unsightly pounds.

“Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you in an hour, if that’s okay. The oil change should be finished by then.”

That voice.

Gwen’s eyes snapped open. The same voice she’d heard two months ago, through Robert’s office door, right before she’d burst in. “I love you too, Robert,” the voice had said sweetly, awakening Gwen to her own ignorance and inadequacy. The words had emptied her soul. She’d never forget Tara Sanlander’s voice as long as she lived.

Oblivious to Gwen’s stare, Tara gazed into the wall mirror and pulled her long hair into a high ponytail. A short middle aged woman stood beside her, looking hopelessly out of place.

“Not a problem,” the shorter woman said. “I’ve got all day.” She glanced at the floor. “Well, would you look at that?” She grunted, bending over. “A penny!”

“Careful, Mom. You don’t need another fall.”

“It’s my lucky day!” She stood up, clenching the coin in her fist as she left the gym.

Gwen turned her eyes back to Tara, who tossed her head and gazed at her reflection, making sure the blonde ponytail was just right. Her gaze met Gwen’s and her movements stopped. Gwen watched with amusement, the girl’s suntanned features turning white as a chunk of provolone cheese.

“Hello, Tara.” Gwen didn’t bother to drop the kettlebell as she took measured steps to the woman and stood beside her, facing the mirror.

Tara tried to turn away, but Gwen grabbed her wrist.

“Let go of me before I scream for help.”

“Oh, you’ll scream all right,” Gwen said, unable to believe she could hold her voice steady. Controlled rage—it was the best she could describe it. She didn’t know where this part of her was coming from, but she couldn’t stop it. She didn’t want to. Her marriage was a disaster. Tara had won. Might as well scare the hell out of her.

“I said, let go!” Tara jerked her arm from Gwen’s grip with all her might, whipping Gwen’s entire body, causing the kettlebell to strike the wall mirror—shattering it into a million pieces.

About Anna:

Anna works as a middle school secretary in her beloved Oklahoma hometown where she resides with her high school sweetheart-turned-husband, Tim. She has written for as long as she can remember. She still has most of her tattered creations–stories she used to sell on the playground for a dime, written on notebook paper. Her love of storytelling has grown throughout the years, and she is thrilled her tales are now worth more than ten cents.

CONTACT LINKS: 

Facebook:       https://www.facebook.com/mskittyanna

Twitter :           @KittrellAnna

Email:             kittrellbooks@gmail.com

Website:          http://annakittrellauthor.com/

Amazon:         https://rb.gy/bnpvtq

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November 5, 2020 · 11:34 am

Dead To Rights by Margo Hoornstra… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the fourth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Margo Hoornstra’s “Dead to Rights” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

Fun Fact:

Several sources helped me create this murder/mystery. My husband was great with plot points and brainstorming. Good friends we camp with were instrumental in fleshing out various scenes. Although, plotting the details of a murder and its aftermath around our nightly campfires gave new meaning to telling spooky stories in the dark.

Blurb:

Police Dispatcher Whitney Rhoades has one word for her current life…contentment. Even after a disfigured body is discovered near her home. When word gets out she’s found a piece of a broken mirror, the deadly mishaps begin to pile up, and her peaceful contented world becomes a nightmare.

Veteran Detective Gabriel Tate knows a vendetta when he sees it. What he doesn’t know is who wants Whitney dead. But despite her terror, she tosses his offer of protection back in his face. She trusted him once and he betrayed her. He can’t…won’t let that happen again.

Unless he can regain her trust…and soon…the results could be fatal. Find a murderer or risk losing her again…permanently.

Excerpt:

“What was I supposed to do? She attacked me first. With a mirror of all things. She would have sliced my neck open if I hadn’t punched her.” He let out a sickening laugh. “That stopped her. But then she started bleeding from her nose. Crying and choking. It wouldn’t stop. None of it would stop.” His tone lowered as if remorse had finally taken hold. “I had every right to defend myself, but I didn’t mean to hit her that hard. I never intended to break her nose. I sure as hell never expected her to die on me.”

Being forced to walk in front of him, she was hearing what amounted to a confession to murder. Without the benefit of cameras recording every word in an official interrogation room. Without the luxury of a confessed murderer being unarmed and in custody.

There was only one reason he’d be so freely confessing to her. What better way to clear his conscience? Then make sure she’d never tell anyone.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen.” His voice jarred Whitney out of her thoughts.

Her step faltered, which earned her another sharp jab from the gun barrel. Wincing as pain radiated through her ribs, she had no choice but to continue moving.

“It was an accident.” She spoke the first words that came to mind. “Everyone will see that.” Convincing him she was on his side was the only way she had a prayer to get out of this alive.

“You’re damned right it was an accident. Her fault. Not mine. She never should have resisted.” The strength of his voice rose before falling to a mere whisper.

When they reached the top of the ridge, he came along side and turned to face her.

“That mirror evidence is our little secret. Yours and mine. Of course, you’re not going to be around to talk about it. And I’m sure not going to tell. Don’t worry. If you don’t die from the fall, I’m an excellent marksman. You can even decide the location of the kill shot ahead of time. Brains or heart? Your choice.” With an ominous chuckle, he nudged her in the side one more time. “Should I push you, or would you rather jump?”

About Margo:

Wife to one, mother to four, mother-in-law to four, and grandmother to four so far, Margo is a Detroit native who couldn’t be happier now living in rural mid-Michigan. A communications specialist by trade, she has worked as a magazine editor, television producer, and speech and script writer. When not writing these days, she enjoys walking outdoors in every season, hates to cook, loves to read, and can be found at www.margohoornstra.com

Promo links:

Website:  www.margohoornstra.com

FB:      http://www.facebook.com/pages/Margo-Hoornstra-Author/251502834867396

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MargoHoornstra

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3222492.Margo_Hoornstra

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Margo-Hoornstra/e/B00504OMPA/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_5?qid=1393344784&sr=1-5

 

 

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November 4, 2020 · 12:32 pm

Vanity Kills by Dianne McCartney… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the third of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Dianne McCartney’s “Vanity Kills” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

Fun fact:

The subject of body-shaming has always interested me. I have a tall, stocky build and my daughter is on the other end of the spectrum, yet we have both suffered this behavior, mostly from other women. Those experiences are what spawned this story.

Blurb:

Detective Marcus Flint is hot on the trail of a demented killer. His initial victim, Carla Sharkley, is found with her body altered to look much bigger than her real size. Her face is made up like a clown’s. What bizarre message is this twisted killer trying to send? 

Further investigation links her to a group of high school friends, cheerleaders, who were known bullies. Is the killer one of the victims of their abuse? 

A search for similar crimes reveals several suspicious deaths, one in Marcus’s home state of Tennessee and two more out of state. All occurred on Friday the 13th.

When Marcus meets the lovely Eleanor Trask, one of the targets of their abuse, he is more determined than ever to solve this case. All bets are off, though, when the killer goes off script to reach his final goal.

Will Eleanor become his final sacrifice?

Excerpt:

At one forty-five, he headed down to the morgue. Dr. Georges Appel, the medical examiner, wouldn’t let anyone in to watch the autopsy unless they were present from the beginning. A fastidious man, he made an excellent medical detective, never missing a thing.

He grunted a hello as his assistant set up the equipment. Autopsies were not for the faint of heart, but it had never bothered Marcus. His old trainer had advised him to think of the body as a box that no longer contains a person. It had helped.

The doctor entered the room, washing his hands at the sink before putting on gloves. “Your victim was dressed in size twenty clothes, even though she is perhaps a size six without the padding.”

He explained the reason behind the subterfuge or their best guess about it.

“People can be so odd. Is this his only victim?”

“We haven’t confirmed yet, but I don’t think so. We found a similar case upstate.”

“Before we begin, I assume you noted that she had signs of being restrained on her wrists. Probably handcuffs.”

“I did. Thank you.”

The doctor murmured his observations into a recorder as he worked, beginning with the surface examination of the skin, fingernails and toenails, taking scrapings. Y-shaped incision to open the torso. The initial blow to the heart had been the death blow. On examining it, he said, “Very deep, you see. Your killer is strong. The knife was likely a hunting knife, kept quite sharp as the edges are crisp. Maybe six or seven inches long.”

“Do you think the strike to the heart was intentional and the others were random?”

“Yes. He’s making a comment, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

He continued to work. “She didn’t bleed much after the initial wound, because the heart stopped beating. He accomplished his task very quickly. The poor girl never had a chance.”

About Dianne:

Dianne McCartney is an award-winning writer, speaker and contest judge from Canon City, Colorado. Her books, Just One Night, The Daughter of Death and The Road to Justice are published by The Wild Rose Press. A long-standing member of the OWFI and The Rose Rock Writers, she has sixty writing awards from contests in Oklahoma, Texas and Tennessee.

Contacts:

Website: www.diannemccartney.com

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/authorDMcC

Instagram:   www.instagram.com/diannemccartney1200/

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