Readers requested part #2, we took the challenge. We’ve brought our A-game enjoy this preview of part #2. đ
Read part one here.
 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.
Itâs 1972 and New Yorkâs 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 readerâs demand. And is only for adult readers. 18+
Excerpt:
AUTHOR ONE: SCENE THREE
âTiffany, howâd it go? Ya got somethinâ for me?â
âYeah, I got somethinâ all right. Meet me at the base in five.â
âSounds like thereâs a cause for celebratinâ, how âbout we meet over at the bar?â
I think for a beat, I could do with a drink. Itâs been quite a day.
âOkay, see you there in thirty minutes.â I press end on the call then exit the phone booth.
In the safety of my car I replay the dayâs events. I hope to God my crew remember to edit out this afternoonâs little show. Lisa is on my mind, and thereâs more to her story I just know it. I wish Iâd done more research before I went in there, so I could question her better. This was a last moment job for me, I donât normally spend my time interviewing crazies. Iâm a reporter donât get me wrong, itâs 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 itâs the last thing I do, Iâm going to get the full story before her big death day rolls around. Â And make a mint at the same time, she is a dollar sign Iâm chasing. It occurs to me, Iâm the only reporter in ten years thatâs managed to crack that crazy bitch. Her story is worth money, and Iâm not talking chump change either. Iâm gonna be paid in full, for what I just went through to get her to talk. I glance at my watch itâs 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 weatherâs getting the better of me. Itâs unbearable. I canât wait to get back to New York. I flew all this God damn way to interview Lisa, and melt but itâs 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 itâs 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 wasnât such an asshole I would have let him have his way with me, a long time ago. Weâve worked together for almost seven years. Thereâs 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 loveâŚjust sayinâ.
Itâs a shame heâs abrupt, blunt and drinks way too much scotch. That said heâs built up an excellent career as a journalist, and now chief editor of one of New Yorkâs tabloid papers.
âWell, Ms. Low you had a productive day from what I hear.â
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?
âFrom what ya hear? What did you hear, Joe?â
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.
âI heard someone got their tits out today!â
Joe leans back and cackles with laughter, he slaps his thigh.
âAnd not only did you get ya tits out, you got âem licked by that bad bitch herself Vanacilli.â
More laughter erupts from Joe as he hugs his sides with laughter.
âItâs not funny Joe.â
I try to stem my own laughter at the craziness of the situation. Hey girlâs gotta do what a girlâs gotta do.
âJesus, ya killinâ me, not funny? This shitâs hilarious.â
Joe rests his brown yes on my open silk blouse. I melt in my chair as I imagine him all over me.
âTiff, when I heard that shit I asked myself, whatâs she got that I aint?â
âSheâs sober, Joe.â
âOh, here we fuck-inâ gooo! Iâm workinâ on it all right.â
âHow much scotch ya had today Joe?â
âNone -a ya business Tiff, and not enough if you must know.â
âIt is my business Joe, youâre fuckinâ up your health.â
âAhh, donât worry âbout it, Iâm on top form⌠maybe one day, Iâll show ya.â
#kdsuspense







