Readers requested part #2, we took the challenge. We’ve brought our A-game enjoy this preview of part #2. 🙂
A suspenseful novel with a twist. Eight short stories, by two suspense authors, from diverse backgrounds. From opposite sides of the Atlantic these stories have been created. One author started the tale and the other ended it. No discussion, no pre-planning but yet their stories are seamless. With just creativity and the use of writing prompts, to craft one tale, with two different writers. This anthology of suspenseful, fast paced and engaging tales covers multiple genres. From heart felt romance, crime, fantasy, and steamy historical fiction. There is a story for everyone!
Blurb: Steamy Historical Crime Fiction: It was The First Time I Killed A Man.
It’s 1972 and New York’s first female serial killer Lisa Vanacilli is in the hot seat again, ten years after her conviction of murder to the first degree and innocent plea. The ruthless but sexy reporter Tiffany Low cracks Lisa for a confession… at a price. Lisa is strong, courageous and says it how it is. This story has been extended due to reader’s demand. And is only for adult readers. 18+
AUTHOR ONE: SCENE THREE
“Tiffany, how’d it go? Ya got somethin’ for me?”
“Yeah, I got somethin’ all right. Meet me at the base in five.”
“Sounds like there’s a cause for celebratin’, how ‘bout we meet over at the bar?”
I think for a beat, I could do with a drink. It’s been quite a day.
“Okay, see you there in thirty minutes.” I press end on the call then exit the phone booth.
In the safety of my car I replay the day’s events. I hope to God my crew remember to edit out this afternoon’s little show. Lisa is on my mind, and there’s more to her story I just know it. I wish I’d done more research before I went in there, so I could question her better. This was a last moment job for me, I don’t normally spend my time interviewing crazies. I’m a reporter don’t get me wrong, it’s just I prefer to spend my time on the rich and famous. I like to get the scoop on the rock stars and Hollywood Scarlets.
Lisa, this bitch is crazy. But if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to get the full story before her big death day rolls around. And make a mint at the same time, she is a dollar sign I’m chasing. It occurs to me, I’m the only reporter in ten years that’s managed to crack that crazy bitch. Her story is worth money, and I’m not talking chump change either. I’m gonna be paid in full, for what I just went through to get her to talk. I glance at my watch it’s only 4:00p.m. the bar should be quiet at this hour. Until the city slickers pitch up for after work happy hour drinks.
I pull out my lipstick and compact to fix my face, this humid Texas weather’s getting the better of me. It’s unbearable. I can’t wait to get back to New York. I flew all this God damn way to interview Lisa, and melt but it’s been worth it.
Inside the bar I grab a booth in the corner, and fan myself with the drinks menu. This place could do with some air conditioning. As I wait for Joe, the waiter slides up and places a gin and tonic in front of me. I know it’s early afternoon but needs must. I need a real drink. I glance around at the half empty bar, just a few locals nursing their drinks, as they nod their heads to Elvis playing on the juke box. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Joe walk through the door. Slick as anything in his well-cut dark suit and skinny tie. I smile at his hair parted neatly to one side and gelled back, as he removes his hat. I drink him in, and cross my legs to stop the pulse between my legs at the sight of him. He looks so out of place in this run-down bar. If he wasn’t such an asshole I would have let him have his way with me, a long time ago. We’ve worked together for almost seven years. There’s been plenty of late nights working at our New York office, and plenty of opportunity for him to bend me over his desk. Which I would love…just sayin’.
It’s a shame he’s abrupt, blunt and drinks way too much scotch. That said he’s built up an excellent career as a journalist, and now chief editor of one of New York’s tabloid papers.
“Well, Ms. Low you had a productive day from what I hear.”
Joe places himself down in front of me. I raise my lashes at him and chew the inside of my lip, what does he know?
“From what ya hear? What did you hear, Joe?”
Joe leans in close and looks me in the eye. Hmm I swear to God I could jump in his lap right now, and blow him under the table. He smells good, his cologne mixed in with the fresh smell of scotch lights up my fire.
“I heard someone got their tits out today!”
Joe leans back and cackles with laughter, he slaps his thigh.
“And not only did you get ya tits out, you got ‘em licked by that bad bitch herself Vanacilli.”
More laughter erupts from Joe as he hugs his sides with laughter.
“It’s not funny Joe.”
I try to stem my own laughter at the craziness of the situation. Hey girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
“Jesus, ya killin’ me, not funny? This shit’s hilarious.”
Joe rests his brown yes on my open silk blouse. I melt in my chair as I imagine him all over me.
“Tiff, when I heard that shit I asked myself, what’s she got that I aint?”
“She’s sober, Joe.”
“Oh, here we fuck-in’ gooo! I’m workin’ on it all right.”
“How much scotch ya had today Joe?”
“None -a ya business Tiff, and not enough if you must know.”
“It is my business Joe, you’re fuckin’ up your health.”
“Ahh, don’t worry ‘bout it, I’m on top form… maybe one day, I’ll show ya.”