Ayeee! It’s The Crime, Thriller, Suspense & Mystery Author’s Take over. Kick-Ass Authors! #amreading #kindleunlimited @didi_oviatt

Suspense Author's take Over.jpgThat’s right, they’re taking over for sixty days on KU… who-dun-it?, What happens next? The twists, turns and suspense awaits you. Here are eight ( at the time of me posting there may be more added), great authors and books free to read on Kindle Unlimited. If you’re not a KU member, some may even be .99 or free during the promotion time. Take a peek on the link below and discover them.

CLICK HERE TO END YOUR SUSPENSE, DISCOVER A NEW AUTHOR

Week #4: THE CRIME SCENE – A Short Story #kdsuspense #amwriting #crime #shortstory

CRIME SCENE

 

The Crime Scene

AUTHOR ONE: SCENE ONE

23:12 p.m. Down Town Los Angeles

“Evening, Detective McBride. This is Detective Flynn, what ya got for us?”

As Detective Daniel McBride listened to the low down from the LA CSI forensic team, Detective Kate Flynn drowned out the sirens, and low hum of voices as she moved her eyes over the crime scene. Mr Wang’s Chinese restaurant is normally a busy eatery, popular with tourists and locals. Tonight, it’s cornered off with police tape, and the media everywhere. They circled the scene like a hungry pack of wolves waiting to fed. Flynn glanced over at the restaurant, the steel shutters covered with graffiti are lowed over the entrance.

“McBride, I’ll catch you inside okay? I’m gonna head in and take a look.”

McBride nodded and returned his attention to the forensic team. Detective Flynn made her way over the Mr. Wang’s, she eyed the outside of the building and news reporters with a sharp eye. Mel Turner a well-known CNN News reporter caught Detective Flynn’s eye. Mel jogged toward her, as she stepped in line with Flynn’s path she shoved a microphone under her nose, and a camera man zoomed in on the action.

“Detective, Detective do you have any idea who the killer is?”  

“No… not at this point.” Flynn responded avoiding the camera, mindful not to give away too many details. She kept walking at a brisk pace to the crime scene.

“But Detective, you can’t be serious, this is the third murder in one week. You mean to say the LAPD are still clueless about the killer?”

Flynn stopped dead in her tracks, annoyed at the reporter’s bravery. Cleverly, she tried to get a rise out of her with her comment.

“Ma’am get that microphone outta my face. With all due respect, this is a crime scene and y’all need to move away from here.”

Flynn, increased her pace toward Mr. Wang’s, her flat loafers pounded the pavement as a swarm of reporters headed her way. As Flynn approached the restaurant’s entrance, she inhaled a deep breath, cameras flashed behind her.

Bang bang!

“Open up, LAPD.” Flynn announced in a flat tone.

A quick badge flash at the forensic team member, covered in a boiler suit, goggles with camera dangling from his neck gained her access.

“Thanks, Detective Flynn. Can you lead me to the body please?”

“This way Detective.”

Flynn stepped over the threshold of the restaurant into what looked like a regular Friday night occurrence. As she scanned the scene of the crime, it appeared tables were dressed in traditional Chinese cloths, delicious Chinese food  left half eaten along with glasses of wine. The guests must have been horrified to find out their meal had to be interrupted as the LAPD were on their way.

“Where’s the owner?”

“Right this way ma’am.” The forensic responded over his shoulder as he led Flynn into the kitchen area. Mr. Wang sat on a crate with his head in his hands sobbing. Flynn lower herself to his level.

“Mr. Wang, I’m Detective Kate Flynn.”

“Hmm, Detective, my business, my customer! Everybody leave unhappy no money, I need money to send home, my wife in China.”

Flynn watched Mr. Wang’s tears overflow as he threw his arms around in frustration, gesturing to the empty dining area and LAPD and forensic team crawling all over his restaurant.

“Mr. Wang, I need to ask you a few questions in a moment okay?”

“Hmm hmm.” Is all Mr. Wang responded as he lowered his head and wept some more.

With a sigh, Flynn pulled herself up to her full five foot nine height, then glanced at the forensic to her left.

“Right this way, Detective.”

***

“Detective.”

Another forensic in a full body suit acknowledged Flynn’s presence with a nod, as he took photos of the body outside the back area of the restaurant.

“Stephen, hi. Okay what have we got here?”

“Well, as you can see Detective, the victim is a white female, around her late twenties, found behind the dumpster over here as Mr. Wang put out the trash.”

“Hmm, okay. Any obvious cause of death?”

“No stab wounds, or gunshots noticed. We’ll need to wait for the full autopsy report.”

“Okay, don’t fall asleep on this one, contact the coroner’s office asap. I’ll be over there first thing for a report. Prints, evidence, I need that on my desk before noon tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am. No problem, Detective.”

Flynn spun on her heel and walked around the outside area of the restaurant, just a small garden area cornered off by a fence. A few dumpsters, bags of trash, nothing appeared obviously out of place. The question was how had the killer gained access to dump the body. She walked over to the open gate and examined the lock another forensic was dusting off, presumably for prints.

“Flynn, how’s it going?”

The sound of Detective McBride’s voice over her shoulder startled her, she was deep in thought, as she imagined what could have motivated the killer to use the back entrance of Mr. Wang’s to dispose the body.

“Not good, white female, late twenties no obvious signs of death as yet.”

McBride rubbed his grey beard, and narrowed his eyes in thought. The contrast of his salted pepper beard against his smooth chocolate skin, gave him a slight Denzel Washington look.

“Shit, same as the other two, hard to say if there’s a link though, they’re the same age group but no connection with the background. One Hispanic and one African- American.”

“Hmm, we need to find out who she is and see.” Flynn responded as she glanced back over at the victim’s body on the floor.

“Right, what about Mr. Wang?”

“He’s inside in tears, concerned over his business, naturally.”

“Take him in, leave no stone unturned. See what he knows.”

“I’m on it.”

McBride watched Flynn make her way back inside the restaurant, then moved his eyes slowly over the scene of the crime.  He felt the sense of urgency he felt every time a crime was committed, especially a murder. Three bodies, one week, three females, late twenties and one killer on the loose. He and Flynn, had work to do.

***

“This is Detective Kate Flynn, today is Monday 28th August 2017. Present is Detective Daniel McBride. This interview is taking place at Los Angeles Police Department, in interview room three. Mr. Wang you are not under arrest, however we’re carrying out routine investigation questions as you were the first one at the crime scene. You are being interviewed under caution, anything you say may be used as evidence in a court of law. For the purposes of the tape can you please confirm your name, and date of birth.”

“My English… no good, I sorry, not perfect.”

“Take your time Mr. Wang, if at any point you don’t understand or need an interpreter please let us know.

Mr. Wang lowered his gaze to the worn brown wooden table, that separated him and the two detectives. He felt nervous, in all his years in America he had never had a brush with the law.

“Okay, I try.”

“Thank you, when you’re ready sir.” McBride reassured him.

“I Chan- Lee Wang, 13th February 1950.”

Flynn took over the questioning, while McBride made swift notes.

“Thank you. Mr. Wang are you the owner of Mr. Wang’s Chinese eatery in downtown Los Angeles?”

“Yes.”

“And for how long have you owned that establishment sir?”

“Since I in America.”

“Which was when please sir, when did you arrive?”

“Ten years, 2000.”

“Thank you. Mr. Wang. Can you tell us in your own words what happened tonight, when you found the body?”

Mr. Wang hesitated, the shock of finding a body on his premises put the fear of God into him.

“Okay, okay. I clean plate, put food in trash bag, tie bag and go outside to dumpster… then… then.”

Mr. Wang places his hands over his face, as he broke down sobbing again. He is inaudible behind his sobs. McBride and Flynn glanced at each other, mindful this could all be an act. McBride cleared his throat and took over the lead.

“Mr. Wang if you could continue please sir, when you’re ready.”

“Yes, yes. I go outside to dumpster and push bin to wall, too far forward, not in right place… Then it no push. I look down, behind, I see body.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I ran inside, call police.”

“Did you touch the body at all?”

“No sir … No no no way.”

“Did you recognise the victim?”

“No.”

“Does anyone else have access to your property Mr. Wang?”

Slowly, Mr. Wang shook his head as if deep in thought.

“No, nobody.”

Feeling as though the interview was leading to a dead end, McBride closed the interview, pending further investigation.

“Thank you, Mr. Wang. That will be all for tonight, it’s late you’ll be released with no further questions– for now.

***

8:00 a.m. The Coroner’s Office

“Good to see you Kate as always, under such sad circumstances but good nonetheless.”

Dr. Solvinac eyed Flynn over his half-moon glasses, as he finished off his autopsy report.

He took in her tall stature, and short blonde hair. On the outside Flynn was all business, and radiated more of a masculine air about her. Her tailored dark pant suits, low heel loafers, bare fingernails and lack of cosmetics, gave nothing personal away about her or any kind of femininity. Underneath it all, she had a heart of gold. Over the years the two had become close, since she transferred to the LAPD from the Nevada Police Department, Las Vegas.

“Morning Doc, good to see you too.”

Flynn approached the table with caution, on top was the victim from last night. Her pale skin contrasted against her blonde hair.

“So, who is she?”

“Here we have Danielle Bray. Her ID was in her pocket, oddly. The killer must have taken off with her purse.”

“I see, what else do you know?” Flynn pressed as she followed Dr. Solvinac around the table.

“Thirty five years old, a drinker quite heavy, probably been dead around twenty four hours before she was found. Prior to that she had intercourse, semen was present in her mouth and internally, the semen however is mixed there was more than one man.”

“Thirty five! She looks so much younger! McBride and I were sure she was in her twenties.”

“They all look young in death, Kate. Danielle is in her thirties according to her photo ID, and the autopsy I done.”

“I see, and you say more than one man? And the cause of death?”

“Strangulation, not with the hands, more like stockings or some such thing. There was a struggle too. And yes, just to make your job that much harder there were two semen samples found.”

“She was a busy lady.”

“She sure was, I’ll run a check on the samples and come back to you as soon as I can.”

Flynn, bit the inside of her lip and looked over Danielle’s body slowly.

“Thanks Doc, I’ll be in contact.”

“No problem, see you when the next one turns up.” Dr. Solvinac lightly chuckles.

“That’s not funny Doc, we’re gonna find him.”

“Or her, you never know…” Dr. Solvinac retorts.

***

“Hey, what’s the latest.”

“She’s thirty five.”

“Thirty five, get outta here, really?”

“Yes really, death by strangulation too. Danielle Bray.”

“Hold on a sec, lemme run her name through the database see what it throws up.”

“There’s more, two semen samples present.”

McBride let out a low whistle on the other end of the line.

“I’m on my way to base, see you soon.” Flynn, pressed end on the call to McBride, threw her car in gear and took off.

***

“Morning boss.”

“Morning.” Flynn responded as she made her way through the open plan office, of the LA Police department, to McBride’s office. As she opened the door her partner was slumped in his chair, deep in concentration looking at his screen. Ever the snappy dresser today McBride had on his pink shirt open at the neck, with no tie and a pair of black braces. Gold cuff links sparkled at his wrists. Without so much of a greeting Flynn got to business.

“So, what’s up, anything come up?”

“Yep, she works over at the bank on Main Street. Minor records on driving offences, drinking under the influence a few years back. Her next of kin is Leena Bray her younger sister.”

“Right, we better pay a visit and give her the news, then come back and see if this case links up with Kelsey Lopez and DeLisa Jones.” McBride responded as he stood up and reached for his suit jacket.

“Hard to say, Kelsey Lopez, Hispanic, poor, unemployed, DeLisa Jones African- American from a good background, with a nine-five. What the hell could these three women all have in common?”

McBride blew out a slow breath at Flynn’s question. “Wrong place, and the wrong time that’s all we know for now.”

***

“Can I help you?”

“Detective McBride, this here is Detective Flynn.”

McBride flashed his badge, and Colgate white smile at the pretty blonde who opened the door. Flynn remained poker faced, and unfazed.

“Are you Leena Bray?” McBride questioned.

“Yes.”

“We need to speak to you about your sister, Danielle. May we come in please?”

“Sure.”

Lena moved to one side, full of confusion she let the detectives into her home. Flynn and McBride walked into Leena’s neat and tidy small condo apartment. Both detectives looked around alert, as they tried to pick up clues about the lifestyle this young lady led.

“Take a seat, would either of you like something to drink?”

“No thanks I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too, thank you.”

“Well, all right, take a seat.” Leena nervously gestured to the seating area.

All three of them lowered themselves to the coach. Flynn, took control.

“Leena, your sister’s body was found late last night.”

“What? Where? How… I just spoke to her the day before yesterday and.. Are you kidding me?” Leena’s pretty face moulded itself into a pleading look.

“No, afraid not. She was found behind a dumpster, by Mr. Wang’s downtown.”

“Downtown? What the hell was she doing there?” The disgust was clear in Leena’s voice.

“When was the last time you saw your sister?”

“I spoke to her the day before yesterday, she had some hot date to go on as always.”

“Did she say who it was with?”

“Some guy named Ryan, she met him online, via an advert he placed.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Nope, just filled me in on her crazy love life as usual and how things were going at the bank.”

AUTHOR TWO: SCENE TWO.

***

“What do you have for me?” Flynn asked the uniformed officer waiting by an interrogation room. “This better be as urgent as you claim, we don’t want any repeats of last time.”

Officer Dannally lowered his head in shame. Remembering his false alarm. He’d pulled Flynn from the the actual scene of a crime the very hour the act took place. He looked up at her from beneath his bushy unibrow that stood out against his pale skin. He cleared the lump from his throat before he spoke.

“Yes, ma’am,” he forced through a timid voice. “I have a security guard from a night club downtown. He’s been watching the news and claims to have seen each victim the night of their attacks.”

“Hmmm.” Detective Flynn nodded at the Officer Dannally in approval. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Seems so, yes,” he answered, still a little embarrassed at her recognition of his last big mistake.

“Has he been briefed and aware of the camera?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mcbride chimed in, “I think we should both go in with this one, don’t you boss?”

“Agreed.”

Mcbride forced open the heavy metal door to a cramped interrogation room. The walls were a dark gray, and the floors thinly industrial grade carpeted. The supposed security guard sat on the opposite side of an elongated fold up table. It separated him from the two entering detectives. Flynn reached her hand across the table first to greet him.

“Sir. I’m Detective Flynn and this is my partner Detective Mcbride.”

The man stood to return the courteous introduction. He was tall, well over six feet with wide shoulders and a sharpe serious look on his smooth mocha face. His dark eyes explored the length of Flynn’s tailored, form fitting suit. After an obvious smirk consumed his face and he adjusted the belt line of his pants, he shook her hand first. His grip was purposefully weak but his hand was big enough to completely engulf hers. The warmth of his rough skin mixed with the way he undressed her with his eyes made her cringe.

“Detective.” He smiled.

Flynn ran a hand down the front buttons of her suit as she took a seat, wholly uncomfortable, which was rare. Not many men were capable of getting under her skin, but this particular one had that look. The look of someone hiding a twisted secret. Something disgusting lurked behind his undressing glare. Flynn’s detective intuition charged full speed ahead, alerting every part of her that something was off with this guy. Her heart pounded in her chest trying to get out. But, she put it in check and put her most collected face on show.

After shaking Mcbride’s hand in just the same fashion, they both took their seat, joining Flynn at the table. Mcbride didn’t waste any time.

“So you say that you’re a security guard at a club down town?” He asked.

“Yep, the Boom Room,” he beamed, looking mostly at Flynn. “Been there for five years now.”

“I’m sorry,” Flynn jumped in. “I don’t think we caught your name?”

“Thomas Toby, or Tom if you’d rather.” He threw her a wink.

“I’ll stick with Thomas,” Flynn mumbled with disgust.

Mcbride placed his large black leather briefcase on the table and began rummaging through photos of each victim. Soon a snapshot of each girl before their murders was laid out on the table.

“So Thomas,” Mcbride said, “You claim that you’ve seen each of these girls in the club within this last week?”

“Yep, every one.” He sat up a little taller in his seat, seeming proud of himself.

“And you’re sure of it?”

“Without a doubt.”

“What else can you tell us? Anything you can think of is helpful.”

“Well, like I said, I’ve been working there for five years. I can tell you a lot actually.”

Thomas scratched his chin with his thumb and forefinger in thought. It wasn’t a look of straining to remember, so much as pondering on how much to actually give away. Finally he nodded to himself as if to confirm the direction he wanted to take. Then he grinned the same proud smirk he sported while shaking Flynn’s hand and blurted out his words.

“They’re escorts. Everyone of them.”

Both Flynn and Mcbride perked up in their seats.

“That’s impossible,” Flynn said. “Not one friend or family member said anything about this. Trust me, we’ve asked every single one.”

“They wouldn’t know, now would they?” Thomas grinned. “Would your daughter want to tell you she was a prostitute?”

“I thought you said escort?” Mcbride corrected.

“Yes, of course.” Thomas rolled his eyes, peeling them away from Flynn to finally give Mcbride his attention.” I can’t speak for this one,” he said while pointing at the Hispanic girl, Kelsey. “She was new to that crew and seemed to carry herself with more class. But blondie here was well known for how deep her deep throat could go, if you know what I mean.”

“So you actually know these women?” Flynn asked, “You didn’t just see them”  She accentuated the way she announced ‘see’ while signaling quotations in the air with her fingers.

“I wouldn’t go that far, ma’am.” Thomas corrected her with a giant grin and while holding both palms in the air as if to playfully surrender. “I haven’t actually spoken to any of these women, but they come into the club very often. And, I know their boss well.”

“How well?” Mcbride asked.

Thomas’ smile spread nearly from ear to ear. He leaned across the table on his elbow, and spoke in a low menacing voice, “He’s my brother.”

***

“Officer Dannally?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

He stood immediately at attention as the door to the interrogation room slammed behind Mcbride and Flynn.

“I want several search warrants, and I need them within two hours or less. Do whatever you have to do to get them rushed through. We have to act fast before night rolls around. We have a lot of new information, and several leads. I want them all looked into before we have any more victims on our hands.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Grab a pen, I don’t want you messing this one up.”

 

***  

Toby Enterprise was located in the heart of downtown L.A. on a skyrise overlooking the city. Mr. Jarek Toby, Thomas’ brother, stood by his corner office window with arms folded tightly across his massive chest. The resemblance between him and his brother was uncanny, and he gave Detective Flynn the same uneasy feeling… Maybe even worse. She paced the large open room, taking in every book and photo on his overstuffed shelves.

“Tell me again why you’re here.” Jarek grumbled.

“We’re here to talk about your escort service.” Mcbride said, while sitting perfectly calm and collected in a fluffy black leather chair. One ankle propped up on the other knee and hands casually set in his lap.

“I no longer run an escort service.”

One side of Jarek’s lip curled up and his eyes danced with the excitement of a skilled liar.

“Yes Mr. Toby, we’re well aware that the operation was shut down three years ago for prostitution.”

“Which brings me to ask again. Why are you here?”

Mcbride sat forward and lowered his eyes. “Because we’re also aware that your previous clientele upped the price they were willing to pay you to keep the business running under the radar.”

The smirk on Jarek’s face quickly melted away, yet he stuck to claiming his innocence in the matter.

“Toby Enterprise is strictly a holdings company. I buy out businesses, break them down and sell them for a very substantial profit. The escort side of things was a liability. There never has been a need to do anything under the radar. With all do respect Detectives, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“We have three dead girls on our hands who I’m sure would beg to differ if they were able.” Flynn said, as she stopped to take a closer look at a photo.

The still frame she stopped at sat next to one of Jarek and Thomas together on the beach. It clearly ranked up there with family and it instantly raised the hairs on Flynn’s arms.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jarek insisted.

Flynn turned on her heels, and held up the photo. “Mr, Toby?” She asked. “Explain to me exactly how you and are brother are both so closely acquainted with Mr. Wang as to be in a photo with him and his entire family?”

“We did business years ago.”

“What kind of business?”

Jarek remained stone faced, yet the color of his ears darkened from a very light brown to a deep scarlet. “Toby Enterprise was a silent partner for Mr. Wang’s restaurant.” He paused as a spark of recognition lit on his face. “Wait a minute. How do you know my little brother?”

Mcbride chuckled, “Wow, you really are in deeper shit than you realize, aren’t you?”

“Okay, what the fuck did that low life tell you exactly?” Jarek scowled, the anger rising in the back of his throat.

“That’s beside the point.” Flynn interjected. “What do you mean was a silent partner?”

“Mr. Wang screwed us out of millions, and at the same time drove a wedge between Thomas and me. When I said I stopped running the escort business, I didn’t mean the entire business stopped.”

“Well Mr. Toby. Why don’t you fill us in on exactly what you do mean.” Flynn said with one hand on her hip and the other still holding the photo in the air. “Also, why don’t you explain to us why you keep these photos in your office if the hate for these individuals is so clear?”

Jarek slumped forward in defeat. With his weight supported by his elbows on his desk he buried his face in the palms of his enormous hands. He pulled in a large breath of oxygen and then let it out very slowly, while rubbing his hands up and down his face.

“You don’t know my brother,” Jarek said. “There’s a reason he’s doing this. He must have finally found out about the affair.” He rubbed his face again with the palm of his hands, this time much rougher, and much more urgently. His demeanor flipped from irritation to an odd sense of urgency and fear.

“What affair Jarek?” Mcbride asked, “Explain quickly please. We’re running short on time, and I’m running short on patience.”

Jarek let out a long breath of anxious air, his cheeks blowing out like a balloon. He reached over the top of his desk, holding a hand out for the photo. Flynn handed it over willingly and finally took a seat in the chair next to Mcbride. She gave Jarek her full and undivided attention, knowing that whatever he had to say must be big. Jarek began pointing at the faces on the picture.

“This man here is Chin-Lou Wang, he his Mr. Wang’s brother. This woman is Sue-Lee and she is Chin-Lou’s daughter. Thomas was engaged to her when she and I had an affair. When Mr. Wang and his brother found out about the affair he threatened to tell Thomas as well as my wife. The escort business was under investigation at the time. So I backed out of our silent partnership in the restaurant giving Mr. Wang full profit. Then I handed the escort’s clientele over to Chin-Lou to run quietly after it’s downfall through Toby Enterprise.”

Detective Mcbride leaned back in his chair and said, “I can imagine Thomas wasn’t very happy about you handing over the business like that?”

“Not at all. Especially when I wouldn’t tell him why I went over his head.” Jarek shook his head in shame. The grief was visible in the purse of his lips and the wrinkle between his brows from pulling them together.

“What happened between Thomas and Sue-Lee?” Flynn asked. “And if you handed over the escort services then why would Thomas say you still run it?”

“Sue-Lee died in a car accident shortly after it all happened. Thomas didn’t take it all very well. He signed over all of his shares of the business to the staff and then took off. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“Hmm…” The wheels in Flynn’s head were turning like a well oiled machine. There had to be something else. Something they were missing.

“Like I said.” Jarek continued. “My brother is a dangerous man. He sent you here knowing that I’d spill the beans. He wouldn’t have done that unless he has something planned… Something big.”

“Do you have anything to hide, Mr. Toby?” Flynn asked. “Any other reason for your brother to send the police to your office? He’s clearly out for revenge. If he wanted us to find out that Mr. Wang’s brother ran a prostitution service then he would have sent us straight there. This is more than just a wild goose chase, you must have something else to hide.”

“No ma’am, I swear I told you everything I can think of.”

Before anyone had the chance to say anything else, there was a loud knock on the door. Four uniformed men barged in, the first holding up an official document.

“Officer Dannally, I’m glad to see you finally made it.” Flynn stood and took the document from the officer’s hand before turning back to Jarek. “Jarek Toby you are hereby under arrest. You a have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, then one will be appointed to you. You have been charged with tax evasion.”

“You can’t prove anything!” Jarek shouted over his shoulder, cutting her off. A pair of shiny cuffs clicked as they secured his wrists in place behind his back.

Flynn turned her back to him as she reached into her pocket to answer the phone call ringing in. “Detective Kate Flynn here.”

“Kate, it’s Dr. Slovinac down at the coroner’s office.”

“It’s great to hear from you Doc. Please tell me you have something useful.”

“We have a match to one of our seman samples.”

“And, who was the lucky guy?”

“The specimen in her mouth came up as one Thomas Toby. Does the name ring a bell?”

“Yes Doc. Thank you. Call me as soon as anything else comes through.

Flynn clicked off her phone and slid it back to is place in her pocket. She turned to face Mcbride, “It seems like our boy Jarek here was telling the truth. It’s time to use our next warrant and pay Thomas a little visit.

As they made their way to the door amongst the chaos of the officers searching Jarek’s office a menacing laughter crackled through the air. Mcbride turned back around his face twisted in confusion.

“Is something funny, Mr. Toby?”

“You’re dead!” he laughed. “My brother is going to kill every last one of you mother fuckers.”

Who wants part #2?? Thank you for reading & voting for this writing prompt we loved this week’s challenge, we could write this story more!

🙂

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

And The Most Voted For Writing Prompt is: A Crime Scene… Damn Kim’s excited!! #kdsuspense #amwriting #crimefiction

CRIME SCENE

 

Thank you, thank you and THANK YOU!! For all your votes on Twitter and the blogs this week. This week Didi and I asked you to vote for your favourite type of movie scene.  This week we will start a story at random, with the most voted for type of scene. It was a close call between romantic comedy – first date and a crime scene.  However, a crime scene won the vote. We are SO excited,  as suspense authors we do love a bit of crime fiction. While Didi likes to write them (characters) a little psycho, I like to keep it fast paced and edgy so this should be a GOOD week, as we join forces again!  Don’t forget we’d love to see your stories , please write with us. Start your story at random with a crime scene and let us see. Post your link on one of our blogs and share with #kdsuspense. We’ll catch you Tuesday. Have a wonderful Bank Holiday weekend if you’re in the UK.

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

Wait.. Wait, What Day Is It Again?? It’s Release Day!! + $25.00 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway #newrelease #amreading #kdsuspense

It’s release day!!! Well in the UK it is, according to Amazon The Suspenseful Collection Volume One is on sale now! I have the pleasure (and satisfaction he he), of saying this seven hours before my partner in crime. Hold onto your e-readers people… There are some excellent thrilling stories. I had a ball, picking up where Didi left off as author two, and writing the start as author one in our first anthology. No matter what I wrote, I loved every moment and I’m so proud of us both.

Don’t forget, we have a giveaway too $25.00 Amazon gift card up for grabs. At present all our books are on sale for .99p / .99$, if you grab a copy of any book on sale, before the 31st July, be sure to enter to win the gift card by clicking here.

 

 

£2.69 UK for e-book or $3.50 international

 

Blurb

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!

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.

Psychological Fiction: Every Time I Hear That Voice From The Basement.

George appears to be harmless. The local neighbourhood geek on the outside, married to Jolene. In reality, he’s a very disturbed man. His path crosses with Dana, the local check out girl. This is a psychological suspense story with a twist.

Crime Fiction: The Entrance To The Tunnel Is His Only Way Out.

Juan is a wanted man, and an ex-gang member on the run from Atlanta to Mexico. With a hundred grand in cash stolen from his ex-boss, he meets an unlikely fate in Mexico. A fast-paced crime fiction story.

Contemporary Romance: When His Hands Run Up My Thighs I…

Love has no time limit, age limit or use by date. Sarah now in her fifties is reunited with her long-lost love Joshua. They last had contact in 1961. In the present day, thanks to the advancement of technology their paths cross. A heart-warming and modern tale, about long distance love, that will leave you warm inside.

Suspense: We Only Said Goodbye With Words, I Died A Hundred Times:

In 1963 Russian Femme Fatale Mila Petrov is London’s top Madam. Her entertainment house is booming, she has a team of London’s strongest women behind her. Unfinished business from her past creeps up and haunts her. It’s nothing she can’t handle. A suspenseful historical tale, with a strong femme fatale.

Fantasy: The Ones Who Live At The Bottom Of The Ocean, Come To The Surface.

A beautiful coming of age story, featuring sixteen year old Zoe and her mother May-Li. Myth becomes reality, as Zoe finds out who and what she really is. Her mixed descent reveals more than what meets the eye. This fantasy story is set against the backdrop of a Greek island and Hong Kong, China.

Suspenseful Crime Fiction: Guilty As Charged, In Self-Defence

California’s sassy, tough, and likeable defence lawyer Catherine has taken on a case so high profile, if she wins she’ll become a partner of Martin Law Firm. Defending forty six year old Mrs. Chevelle. An ex Las Vegas show girl, now a Hollywood wife, on trial for the murder of her high-profile husband. She claims she’s innocent. Readers are taken on a fast -paced journey on a mission to seek the truth.

Contemporary Fiction: It’s A Man’s Man’s World:

A beautiful modern tale showing the love and appreciation of a woman. James Brown said it right when he said, “it’s a man’s man’s world, but it would mean nothing without a woman or a girl.”

I’m Just Teasing… #amreading #kdsuspense

Of all the stories I wrote with this suspenseful chick across the pound Didi, this has to be up there as one of my favourite! Never seen before, bonus story #1 Guilty As Charged, In Self Defence…. Our Catherine is quite a character, and the ending will leave you with your mouth open. 🙂

Teaser:

Monday June 1st, 2016, California Supreme Court.

In the lady’s room, I look myself over. I feel good. I take in all the minor details. The sharp fringe of my blunt bob, minimal make-up, my best well-tailored black Chanel skirt suit, sky high red bottom Christian Louboutin heels. Perfect. I feel confident I’ve got this in the bag. I was raised a strict catholic by my mom, I bow my head in prayer before I walk out. Today as confident as I feel I’ll need God on my side. The prosecution lined up a good case. Naturally they have played on her as a money grabbing whore. She was a Las Vegas showgirl, doing what she had to do before she met that bastard. That does not give her a motive for murder… I hope.

***

“All rise please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we’re here to hear the case of Mrs. Dennessa Chevelle. On trial for the murder of Ronald Chevelle.”

I watch an officer move over to Mrs. Chevelle, and hand her a bible to place her hand on. She gives her plea of not guilty and the show begins. The prosecution swim around her like sharks. A jumped up over confident suit, with way too much hair gel takes the center stage. He tries to break her down. I clinch my jaw, as my eyes watch him prance around the court room.

“Mrs. Chevelle, is it true you were a stripper before you met your late husband?”

“No, well yes but not a stripper I was a performer in Las Vegas. That’s how we met.”

“Right, right.  A performer.

The sarcastic chump uses quotation marks around performer, as he looks over at the jury. My anger rises.

“And how would you describe your financial situation at the time, stable? Or unstable?”

“I… I did not have much that’s true but I got by.”

All eyes rest on Mrs. Chevelle as he pushes her.

“Mrs. Chevelle, if you could please answer the question.”

A low voice leaves Mrs. Chevelle, she lowers her lashes to the ground.

“Unstable.”

“Unstable you say? Is it fair to say a man like Mr. Chevelle was desirable due to his financial status, maybe?”

The fuckin’ douche, he’s wasting no time. I get to my feet and call out to the judge.

“Objection!”

“Ms. O’Neil, please remain seated. As you were Mr. D’Costa.”

I look over at Mrs. Chevelle and hope she doesn’t fall for the trap.

“No, certainly not. How dare you assume such a thing. He was my husband, not a meal ticket!”

That-a-girl Mrs. Chevelle. I take a seat and breathe a sigh of relief. I look over at the jury. Predominantly female, excellent. I’ll let this shark paint whatever picture he wants of Mrs. Chevelle, in my defence case I’ll hit ‘em with the abused woman story and give them some shit the female jury members never got to read in Hello magazine.

***

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as you can see the prosecution has tried to paint a picture of a money grabber, a whore and a stripper.”

I move closer to the jury, and slowly walk past the stand with confidence as I talk.

“The woman you see over there in that stand, is none of these things.”

I stop for a beat in front of a female juror around Mrs. Chevelle’s age.

“You see that lady over there, she was an abused woman, mentally, physically and emotionally.”

The female juror moves her eyes over to Mrs. Chevelle, she takes a closer look at her on the stand. Right on cue, Mrs. Chevelle blows her nose into her tissue and wipes her eyes. Perfect. I watch the women in the jury stand some more. Their faces move from pinched up discomfort to shock. Beautiful. I walk back across the room to center stage, and command their attention. ….. TO BE CONTINUED!!

 

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!

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.

Psychological Fiction: Every Time I Hear That Voice From The Basement.

George appears to be harmless. The local neighbourhood geek on the outside, married to Jolene. In reality, he’s a very disturbed man. His path crosses with Dana, the local check out girl. This is a psychological suspense story with a twist.

Crime Fiction: The Entrance To The Tunnel Is His Only Way Out.

Juan is a wanted man, and an ex-gang member on the run from Atlanta to Mexico. With a hundred grand in cash stolen from his ex-boss, he meets an unlikely fate in Mexico. A fast-paced crime fiction story.

Contemporary Romance: When His Hands Run Up My Thighs I…

Love has no time limit, age limit or use by date. Sarah now in her fifties is reunited with her long-lost love Joshua. They last had contact in 1961. In the present day, thanks to the advancement of technology their paths cross. A heart-warming and modern tale, about long distance love, that will leave you warm inside.

Suspense: We Only Said Goodbye With Words, I Died A Hundred Times:

In 1963 Russian Femme Fatale Mila Petrov is London’s top Madam. Her entertainment house is booming, she has a team of London’s strongest women behind her. Unfinished business from her past creeps up and haunts her. It’s nothing she can’t handle. A suspenseful historical tale, with a strong femme fatale.

Fantasy: The Ones Who Live At The Bottom Of The Ocean, Come To The Surface.

A beautiful coming of age story, featuring sixteen year old Zoe and her mother May-Li. Myth becomes reality, as Zoe finds out who and what she really is. Her mixed descent reveals more than what meets the eye. This fantasy story is set against the backdrop of a Greek island and Hong Kong, China.

Suspenseful Crime Fiction: Guilty As Charged, In Self-Defence

California’s sassy, tough, and likeable defence lawyer Catherine has taken on a case so high profile, if she wins she’ll become a partner of Martin Law Firm. Defending forty six year old Mrs. Chevelle. An ex Las Vegas show girl, now a Hollywood wife, on trial for the murder of her high-profile husband. She claims she’s innocent. Readers are taken on a fast -paced journey on a mission to seek the truth.

Contemporary Fiction: It’s A Man’s Man’s World:

A beautiful modern tale showing the love and appreciation of a woman. James Brown said it right when he said, “it’s a man’s man’s world, but it would mean nothing without a woman or a girl.”

 

Updated-Telling-Tales-Weekly-Challenege-Kim-&-Didi

Meet The Author: Cedric Long – Crime Fiction Author #amreading #author #crime

cedric long author of the Corrupt Officers Guide series

Umm hmm who have we here? Sandwiched in the middle of the three authors for July is Cedric Long. I was thrilled when Cedric responded to my call for Meet The Author, he is the second male guest here, and personally I think it’s great to have male authors and diversity … so boys please don’t be shy. Cedric hails all the way from the USA, he worked in law enforcement before he became an author. Can you tell? Look how serious he looks. Anyway, it is my pleasure to showcase Mr. Cedric Long… let’s get to know his style, over to you Mr. Long.

Hello nice to meet you! Tell us a bit about you where are you from and other than writing what else do you enjoy?

I’m Cedric Long born in Montgomery, AL. I’m thirty four tall six foot two no kids. I love to work out and travel. One of my favorite things to do is ride to a new city and stay a few days. I also am a passionate photographer. I’m an outdoorsy person. I also have a garden in the backyard because I enjoy fresh fruits and vegetables. I worked in the Alabama Department of Corrections for 41/2 years. Lastly i’m a big movie fan nothing like coming home after a hard days work and watching a DVD in the dark.

Kim: well, lovely to meet you Cedric. We’re the same age. I wonder who is older.

How did you start writing? What was your inspiration to create?

I’m not a writer, I’m an author. My English and grammar skills have always been poor. I was 28 before I viewed language and writing as arts. I began working in the department of corrections and when I’d tell stories about my experiences people’s eyes would almost pop out their heads. So I always thought I should write a book about prison. This caused me to view writing as an art form something wonderful I could create through.

Kim: There’s nothing wrong with developing these skills a little later in life. I think we should all be life long learners, so don’t ever see that as your downfall. 

Who is your favourite author, is there anyone out there that inspires you?

I never have a favorite anything. A favorite color, food, basketball player. . I’m very objective and open. I love diversity of flavors. I look for indie authors, you know trying to find the diamond in the midst of all that coal. To kinda answer your question I enjoy Ernest Hemingway. His novel the old man and the sea takes me on a visual journey. When I read his work I can smell salt air I can hear the waves I can feel the sun on my skin.

Kim: *smiles* yes, when a writer takes you on a journey for sure that’s always a great reading experience. It’s great that you can remain so objective in life too.

What genre do you enjoy reading?

Mystery Suspense Thrillers. Big fan the Alex Cross and Jack Reacher series. I love a great plot twist. Eric Jerome had a series Sleeping with strangers I enjoyed. I do love series.

Kim: I like Eric Jerome too not read one in a while though, you like mystery and suspense? Stick around you’re in good company here! 

How did publishing your first book change your process of writing?

I actually didn’t have the issue of pride when writing my first novel. I knew I was amateur and I knew my writing was terrible. Having this honest perspective caused me to really do my research. I took advice. That help me avoid a lot of first time mistakes. As a photographer the photos I was so proud of when I first started today are embarrassing. At the end I’ve learned that you have to write as an artist and as a marketer. Not only must you consider your vision but what readers want also.

Kim: I like the last part of your view, yes write as an artist and in your own style, there will be readers out there for you. I think you’re take on thinking you sucked straight away is so refreshing. Lols.

So you’ve published a series, what is the series about?

The series Corrupt Officers Guide – follows a fictional character John Youngblood a 26 year old correctional officer. Officer Youngblood is separated from his wife and running from a horrific past. He uses PDW(Partying Drinking and Women) to cope. Working in a prison is dangerous and after casual sex with a coworker turns bad he up to his head in conflict. Things worsen after he begins experiencing a string of life threatening events all strung together by a mysterious love letter.

The book is a drama about the temptation faced working in a prison environment. It’s shows contrast of there is not black and white when it comes to good and bad. There are only the thousands of shades of grey in between. We are humans and we make decisions. It also brings to light social issues and department of corrections conditions using satire and symbolism. It has comedy suspense mystery and action.

Kim: wow!… I need a copy asap.  If you have author review copies I’d love one I really mean that.

What was it like creating back to back stories that link?

It’s wonderful I love giving my readers a bigger picture that slowly unravels. All my novels connect and intertwine.

Kim: Sounds good. *nods her head*

Have you ever thought about writing in a different genre? If you could what genre would you like to dabble in?

Yes I want to write a novel with monster as characters. Also plan on writing a nonfiction on black natural hair to support women making the decision to go natural.

Kim: haha okay monsters? For  what age group? Is this like sci-fi, horror or what? Talk about leave a girl out to dry, we need details Cedric! Your second idea, I like that I think there is a lot of falseness these days, and it’s pressure on all women, regardless of their ethnicity. We all need to live up to some idea of what the media or society holds as beautiful or the way to be. Whatever… “aint no body got time fo’ dat!” 

What has been your most proud moment as an author?

I’m an artist at heart I’ve never desired fame or riches. I want to put out work that is amazing. Something I created.  My proudest moment was when I receive my first hard copy of my book.

Kim: Oh God, don’t I’ll never forget that feeling EVER. I am with you on that one. I lined my book up next to some of my favourite authors on my book shelf, and took a picture. 

Was there ever a time you wanted to pick up your laptop, and then launch it out the window with frustration?

I never got frustrated but I did have to take an 8 month break once, and also their came those moments where doubt came up. thoughts like – No one will like this, why finish, You should be focused on more important things but I pushed and made sure I finished my first book.

Kim: Excellent. Self belief, that’s all you need.

Are you a “plotter” or a fly by the seat of your pants “pantster” as a writer?

Plotter definitely but I do both. Fly by the seat ideas are useful for scenes or to spice things up, Still I like for my stories to have deeper meaning even my hotshot ideas must be weaved into plot or i’ll save them for latter works.

Am I the only one who gets hung up on commas? Do they make you go blah! when you’re writing?

I rarely use commas, and I leave that to my editor. You need a great editor. It’s a different profession. You may sing and be great at it, but just because you have voice doesn’t mean you write great songs and can mix your own music. To put out great work you need to use professional help. Cover design, marketing, editing, SEO – get help.

Kim: what!? Haha I can’t believe it rarely. Damn, your editor must love you!

Every writer has a word(s) that they always slip up on when they write, then slap their forehead when they notice their typo. For me it’s further and farther exit or exists-  but hey I’m over it now.  Do you have a word (s) that make you go blah! Go away not another damn typo.

OMG I’m dyslexic and southern so I do this all the time on every other page. I have a story to tell you. One day I was meeting a friend. I told them via phone I was about to go baze and meet up with them. The friend said what did you just say? I repeat “I’m about to go baze.” They said do you mean bath? Yes I was twenty four years old before I correctly pronounce bath. So I do this all the time. TGFE – thk god 4 editors.

Kim’s Reaction:

 

Thank GOD FOR EDITORS!!

What three tips would you give any aspiring writer?

1 Research – Read other works, the bad and good it teaches you what to do and not to do. Watch youtube videos get as many perspectives about writing.

2 Don’t work on multiple stories – It’s hard but inspiration hits you all the time and you will get tempted to start a secondary work. But your brain is wired in a way that will make you lose interest in the old and gravitate towards the new. If a work seems dead leave it for a few days or weeks, then start it back up.

3 Get good feedback – You don’t need passive people telling you your work is good to make you feel better. you need hard critics telling you things like the first 4 chapters are too boring, or this seems out of place. Your sex scenes are bad and corny. You don’t want to be the wife asking her husband “Does this dress make me look fat?” You need honest feedback so you can fix the bad parts of your work.

Kim: good advice, with point #2 I say get a notepad and write the ideas down as they come. That’s what I do. Funny thing is I can’t actually work on two stories I can only do one at at a time, hence the notepad so I don’t lose the ideas as they come.

What are you working on now? What will you release next?

I’m working on my third novel to the Corrupt Officer’s Guide series. The first book Corrupt Officer’s Guide to Money is available on Amazon. The second book Corrupt Officer’s Guide to Love is finished but I do not have a release date yet.

So…. where can we get your books?

Only on Amazon as of now. I do plan on getting them in several indie book shops and a website later.

Kim: try Smashwords look it up.

What are the most important magazines for writers to subscribe to?

I don’t use magazines it’s to much context online now, every magazine has a website or blog these days.

What does “success” look like to you? When would you say “damn, I’ve made it baby!”

When Fans give feedback such as  “Really enjoyed this I can’t wait to read your next book.” When your work reaches people who love it and they become interested in your style of writing is success to me. I put blood sweat and tears into my works so  an audience that shows appreciation is when i made it.

Kim: aww Cedric! Good luck, I’m sure you will find your audience and you will start to build a fan base. I wish you well.

Does a big ego help or hurt writers?

It hurts when you can’t see your weaknesses or take constructive criticism. On the other hand it’s a bonus when you use it in a competitive way. I see Steve Harvey’s or Zane’s book on the shelf, I feel envy and  say I’m going to be up there next to them one day. Michael Jordan pushed himself to be greater because he looked at other NBA players talents and wanted to beat them.

Kim: you are the first author to mention the competitiveness but healthy competitiveness. I feel the same way! Muhammad Ali said….

25+ Stirring Muhammad Ali Quotes

What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?

My books are actual events I experienced, it’s told thru the cloak of fiction but it’s factual based. I have lived the things in my novels even thought it sounds crazy everything is taken from first hand witness accounts. But I do recommend you learn about the subject you are writing on. readers are not stupid and if you stereotype of use cliches you book won’t be received well. Researching will keep these things out of your work.

Do you read your book reviews? How do you deal with bad or good ones?

This is my first release I have not had public reviews. but private ones I read and yes they hurt but they can make your work better. Listen to them. If I cut my own hair and didn’t know I had a bald patch in the back of my head. I need a friend to tell me. A reviewer is your friend,  they can say your haircut looks okay, and laugh behind your back. Or they can say it looks ok except one little nitch in the back. or they can say your head looks f@# up. whether they say it nicely or rudely you need to know your work had a patch in the back of it’s head.

One of my reviewers said she didn’t care to finish my book because of all of the colorism. I didn’t realize it but my book was full of colorism, the beautiful females were mixed raced with grey eyes, white blonde hair , and Latina. This shocked me  I’m very pro black I thought I was being creative by making my characters diverse, but living in america I guess my subconscious was programmed from all the TV and music. If you don’t believe you media mind programming l search for the video  – The Doll Experiment. I will give you a prospective on how media get’s us at a young age.

I don’t read much into the good ones I’m happy to have a satisfied reader.

Kim: Now, if that aint honesty I dunno what is. As for “colourism” I think we’d call that diversity in the UK.  Cedric, write it how you like it and forget anyone who don’t like it! There is a reader out there for you. For one I love “colourism” where I’m from in London you can’t get away from it. You’re also right beauty comes in all shades not just one.

What was your hardest scene to write?

Romance I not a great when writing feelings so I had to practice a lot. I still don’t like the romantic scenes in my novel but I did okay.

Kim: I’ll read it and tell you how you did *smiles*.

Do you Google yourself?

No I don’t have an online presence at all. But I go to amazon books and look at my cover all the time lol.

 Kim: lol

What other authors are you friends with, and how do they help you become a better writer?

Deidre Leshay we are not friends but we communicate on social media I love her book every bit of crazy it started off with action. I learned how to hook readers interest from page one.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

I wrote my first two novels in four days. I got sick and could not go to sleep. After I was up twenty six straight hours I said well I don’t feel tired let me write this book. I only doze off twice the next four days. and when I did sleep it was only around three hours.

Now these were very rough drafts, and it took months to get them ready for the final edits. I even tooks weeks or months off from writing if i needed to.  When I write I can write twelve hours straight nonstop every day for weeks. I do not edit until I finish which helps a lot.

 Kim: *shakes her head* my gawwrd. That’s true writer’s stamina there.

What would you like readers to know?

If you know someone who is incarcerated or works in a prisons and ever wanted a tour of the prison environment told in an entertaining way then check out Corrupt officer’s guide to money. Only if you go on a real tour they will clean things up for you, my version is the raw dirty laundry of the system.

Please support self published works. Most authors make under  $10,000 a year. You can help by rating books writing reviews and sharing on social media.

What’s your favourite movie?

I love all kinds of movies and never have just one favorite I couldn’t give you a top 10. My two favorite this year are Split and Get Out.

What’s your favourite book and why?

Goosebump’s Ghost Beach, I loved how the series was connect only by the slim on the covers but they all felt connected. It had an amazing twist at the end I didn’t see coming which today many award winning movies have used.

What music do you like?

A bit of everything mostly oldies and R&B you know love making music.

Where would you like to travel to and why?

I want to go on a cruise to the mayan temples in mexico. I love the beach ocean tropics and adventure. This trip embodies all three.

Tell us about how you develop your characters?

I set strengths and weaknesses, I set goals and plant obstacles everything else seems to work itself out. I love to contrast in my writings.

Which one of your characters is your favourite and why?

It’s a female love interest. That’s all I choose to reveal choose to reveal right now but she is based on a woman I loved like no other. She is not mentioned in the first novel by name but her ghost is there. Allegra will play a major role in my second book Corrupt Officer’s Guide to Love. She is real and we are planning on getting married at the end of this year. How’s that for Mystery and Suspense? wink-wink

Kim: awww amazing!! How lovely to honour her now that’s love. 

And that’s a wrap guys I hope you enjoyed getting to know Cedric this month. He seems to be on to a good thing mixing his factual experience to create a series of books.  You can connect with him below on Facebook. If you’re an author and you’d like a feature contact me here. And send me a message.

Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/authorcedriclong

Amazon Author page

https://www.amazon.com/author/cedriclong

Twitter

https://twitter.com/GetoutMatrix

Excerpt:

Vivian was smiling and laughing at all my jokes. Our evening was going well I hope this would be the date we took or friendship further. Vivian asks, “If we had sex, then a few weeks later I told you I was pregnant, what’s the first thing that pops into your head?”

So I told her the first thing that comes to my mind “Well, you know, my homeboy Fred’s girlfriend got pregnant, and her boobs didn’t get that much bigger at all.”

“Really, John Youngblood? That’s what pops into your perverted mind?”

As Vivian takes a sip from her cup, I say, “Some men get lazy and don’t feel like walking to the bathroom so they pee in cups.”

Vivian’s eyes grow wide open and give me a death stare.

I ask, “How’s the lemonade? Is it strong enough for you?”

“How about I throw this lemonade in your face and let you see for yourself?”

“I’m just joking around. I’d never do anything like that.”

“Gross, John. I’m still never drinking out of anything at your house ever again.” then she hits me on the shoulder and laughs.

 

 

 

cover of cedric long's book Corrupt Officer's Guide to Money

meet-the-author

Let Me Tell You A Tale… Wk #1. “It Was The First Time I Killed A Man”#amwriting #crimefiction #thriller

Featured Image -- 11778

You voted for the writing prompt “ it was the first time I killed a man” so Didi and I responded. This is OVER 18 READING!  The prompt was both of our favourite, so thank you! We’ve had a ball, remember we never discuss the way the story should go. Author A writes her part and hands it to author B to finish. I just wanna say, I personally am so happy my path has crossed with Didi. I enjoyed her novel Aggravated Momentum and she is an excellent thriller and suspense writer.  I hope we are life long practice writing buddies to perfect our craft in our genre no matter where our careers take us. What caught our attention over each other’s suspense novels? The writing style! LOL.  Can you guess who wrote what? Comments and feedback welcome!

One thing Didi and I love are strong women, no matter the age, race, sexuality we salute them all! … we present  to you a woman that falls into this category no matter what she has done in the past, she’s strong and powerful in her own way…. it’s Lisa Vanacilli!

Enjoy

It Was the First Time I Killed a Man…

 

Scene One – Author A

June 1962, New York Supreme Court.

 “Look at her she’s so full of herself. She did it John, trust me she’s guilty as sin.”

“Hmm, yeah I agree. But the jury that’s the problem buddy. We got a couple-a Hispanics, one Jamaican and an Italian-American, they’ll probably be on her side. Their kind always stick together.”

“Fuck that, and fuck them. We got this we’re the best prosecution attorneys this side of New York.”

 

I sit in the witness stand with my hands cuffed behind my back, sandwiched in between two cops. A lopsided menacing smile slowly creeps across my lips, as I stare out at the jury in front of me.  I glance over and see ‘em whisperin’ again. Look at these two smart ass prosecution attorneys tryin’ to pin shit on me. What- a pair-a dicks! My wrists are freakin’ killin’ me. Exactly how far do they think I can run with my hands and feet shackled together?… But then again, last time I was here I gave them every reason to anticipate an escape, with my “erratic” behavior as the judge called it. This time they cuffed me. Bunch-a schmucks.

 

The court house is packed today, seems like everyone this side of the Brooklyn Bridge came out to witness my fate. The first woman on trial for first degree murder, in the state of New York. I guess that makes me a celebrity ‘round these parts. I laugh out loud at my own private joke.  The jury look up at me wonderin’ what my outburst of laughter is about, they can go ta’ hell, kiss my ass for all I care. With unsettled looks on their faces they stare. I smile my sweetest sarcastic smile for them, right before I put my poker face on show. There’s no emotion, just pure hatred. Look at them, they make me sick all of them. The women sit an’ fan themselves, with their faces pinched up like there’s a bad smell in the air an’ their shit comes out smellin’ roses. With their cheap shoes on show, who the fuck are they to judge me? They could at least dress for the occasion, before they sit there and play God with my fuckin’ fate. I stare hard at their pathetic faces, there’s no smell in this joint it’s me. That’s the effect I have on women these days, given everythin’ they read in the headlines ‘bout me. A distasteful slut, that’s how the see me. To them I’m the kinda woman you lock your husband up from. As for the men, well I guess I still look cute in my orange jumpsuit and unmade up face. I see them watchin.’ For my own amusement, I give the short fat juror, with the bald patch an’ badly fitted brown suit on the back row a wink across the court house. He shifts with embarrassment in his seat. Ha!  I still got it.

 

I raise my chin and pout, with attitude I flick my frizzy blonde mane of hair back as I shake my head. My eyes dart around the stuffy court house, with its dirt brown walls and worn out seats. I watch one of the prosecuting attorneys adjust his tie and wipe the perspiration from his brow. That’s right, sweat you piece-a shit. I glance over to the left, I watch the judge shift his paperwork and then pick up his pen. He looks out at the courthouse over his glasses…It’s show time.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury all rise please.”

“All rise please. That includes you, Ms. Vanacilli.”

I tease the judge.

“Sorry I mus-ta  been in my own lil’ world, sir.”

“Ouch not so rough Mr. if you wanna handle me like that big guy … now’s not the time or place.”

I giggle as I flirt with the cop on my right, tugging at my arm forcing me to my feet.

“Ms. Vanacilli! May I remind you’re in a court of law, and your best behavior is expected at all times. Now please rise.”

I smile sweetly at the judge and get to my feet, as the cop next to me grabs my shoulder. The judge turns his attention back to the jurors.

“Juror number one please step forward.”

Some Italian broad with bright pink lipstick, and a skirt a few inches too short, eases herself slowly out of her chair. Nice shade, I wonder what range her lipstick is from? I remain confident they got nothin’ on me, I’ll be out and head over to Macey’s to check out all the latest lipsticks. I’ll see if I can get me a shade just like hers. The thought makes me smile as I look juror number one up and down, admiring her knee-high boots and beehive hairdo.

Juror number one shuffles out toward the stand. She looks over at me, she’s scared. I can tell when fear is oozing from a person, now that shit turns me on. Men, women, don’t matter, there’s just something about a certain frightened vulnerability in a person’s eye that heats up my core. The judge’s flat tone rings out across the courtroom.

“How do you find the defendant Ms. Lisa Vanacilli, guilty or not guilty of first degree murder?”

The judge fixes the juror with a stern look as he folds his large hands, and then rests his elbows on the table. Suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked from the room, as everyone holds their breath. Now if this snatch makes the wrong move, I swear to Lucifer I’ll kill the bitch. I’ll get her mama too she better come correct. All of them dumb fucks better have fallen for my sweet lil’ miss innocent act.

“Sir, we the jury find Ms. Vanacilli … guilty of murder of the first degree by an unanimous vote.”

With a stone cold stare my eyes penetrate right through juror number one. My unbrushed bleach blonde frizzy mane with dark roots, and menacing stare scare the shit outta her. She moves her eyes away from me quickly as she shuffles back to her seat. Fuckin’ traitor, I should-a known. It seems like us Italians don’t stick together no mo’.  Right there and then in the packed courthouse I lose my shit. With my hands behind my back I cry out in protest over this dumb bitch’s verdict.

Guilty? Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me?”

“Ms. Vanacilli can you refrain from such language and pipe down!”

I ignore the bald douchebag judge, and address the jury personally. I turn to them and spit my venom as the cops hold me back.

“Guilty my fuckin’ ass. Yo, let me tell ya’ll you ain’t got NO FREAKIN’ idea ‘bout the shit he put me through.”

I hack up a load of phlegm and spit, aiming for that bitch juror. I miss and hit the prosecuting attorney right on the shoulder. Good, he’s dead too, the schmuck.  Sitting there with that smug look on his face. I’d like to see that look change when he wakes up in a bathtub of hot water, with yours truly holdin’ an electric radiator over his fuckin’ dumb shit for brains face and body. I’d then make sure he’s unrecognizable as I burn his face off, before send him home to his slut of a wife. That’ll wipe that smile off his face. The vision and thought arouses me again. God, I wish I could touch myself, I gotta’ control myself, I squeeze my thighs together and smirk. Yeah, I got plans for you if I ever get out of this joint Mr. Attorney.

The cops restrain me and wrestle me to my seat. My breathing gets deeper as the anger rises within me. I feel it from the tips of my toes, to the last strand of my fizzy mane.

The judge turns his attention back at me. I ignore him as I stare out every one of the jurors who had the balls to find me guilty. Okay, so I did do it… I killed him. But that’s our secret for now.

 

“Ms. Vanacilli on June 19th 1962, at New York Supreme Court you’ve been found guilty of murder in the first degree.”

I move my eyes back over to the judge.

“Yeah, no shit. I heard ya’ the first time smart ass.”

The judge impatiently pinches the bridge of his nose and pauses his lips.

“Ms. Vanacilli, I sentence you to the death penalty. Capital punishment, by means of electrocution.”

My raspy deep voice echoes across the court room as everyone releases their breath.

“The death penalty, ah c’mon don’t fuck around you gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Take her away, gentlemen.”

The judge waves his hand and dismisses me like a fly buzzing around a piece- a dog shit on the hot New York sidewalk. Dumb and dumber drag me out of the courtroom kickin’ and screamin’ language so obscene…. it be a sin to repeat it. The cunts. They’re all gonna pay every one of ‘em.

 

 

January 1972, Federal Medical Center Carswell, Fort Worth Texas

 

I bring my mind back to the present day after I relive my day in court ten years ago, upstate in New York. I was just thirty years old at the time. Now I’m a forty year old woman and I look every year of it. Gone are my bleach blonde locks and high cheekbones. I’m a dull brunette, salted with gray, and the wrinkles came on strong years ago. This place ages you, the same ol’ same ol’ day in day out. For the last ten years I’ve been rooted here in this piss hole of a hospital, awaiting my big death day. With all the bullshit politics and capital punishment changes, my case has been tossed around for years. Who knows what they’ll do. They didn’t ban the electric chair ‘til after my trial, but I still lucked out on that. Now they’re probably just keep me alive, waitin’ around for ‘em to grow the balls to finally stick some poisonous needle in my fuckin’ arm.

I move my eyes over the cops an’ camera men behind the screen, separatin’ me an’ the pretty lil’ reporter sitting in front of me. I’ve lost count over the years how many times I’ve been asked the same questions. Why did I do it? What made me do it? Now, I’ve got Ms. Prissy with her pink lipgloss and perfectly styled hair in front- a me, tryin’ ta’ break me for a confession. She’s cute, I wonder where she’s from. She looks Latino to me.  I like them ethnic ones. Somethin’ a lil exotic and curvy. I wouldn’t mind kissing off all that lipgloss she has on. My eyes move over her perky tits in her silk white blouse, wonderin’ if they’re as perky without a bra. Humm, I admire the curve of her tits as she blushes. I spy a nipple poking through the silk of her blouse. I lick my lips and pout, I like this one. I wonder if her lil’ hot spot tastes as good as she looks.

Don’t mind me, ten years with nothin’ but lady curves on display in an all-female maximum security hospital, for the “criminally insane” as they like-ta call yours truly or those with anti-social personalities, makes you see a woman differently. I never looked at another woman sexually, before they locked me up in this joint. Over the years, the reporters have thought up all kinda shit to sell papers, an’ paint a picture of me as a female murderer on death row. The notoriety I have among the new young female inmates, who hear about me on the outside before they were dumb enough to get caught doing whatever shit it was that got them here is a thrill. I convert ‘em all, one by one. It’s a personal pleasure for me ya’ see. The young ones swagger in here, thinking they’re the shit, tough and ball-breaking.  Give ‘em a month­­— if that. I’ll have my way with ‘em when the lights are out. Down on their knees in front of me, with my legs spread and their pretty faces buried between my thighs worshiping me like their life depends on it, tellin’ me how good I taste. They aint so tough then, they’re like putty in my hands as I tame ‘em, show ‘em who is the alpha female. I love-ta groom ‘em so they know how to please a demanding bitch like me. There’s nothing more satisfying than a woman’s touch, her tongue is much more in tune with how to please a woman’s pussy. I like them long, slow, licks both givin’ and receivin.’ Thoughts of what I’d do with Ms.  Lipgloss run through my mind as I give her my full attention while she questions me.

“Ms. Vanacilli, can you tell me a bit about your background? You’re an Italian American I understand, your family immigrated to Brooklyn when you were just one years old. Are you in contact with your family?

I ignore her question. I raise an eyebrow and blow her a kiss, like I said I’m feelin’ this pretty one.

“What shade lipgloss do you have on?  Ms… I never caught your name.”

Ha! I watch the heat rise within her at my unexpected question. Even with her beautifully tanned skin I can see a pink glow move across her face. She smooths over her jet-black curls, and clears her throat. She tries to gather herself as I eye her tits lustfully.

Hmm, she looks so good I almost feel weak. You don’t get ‘em this fine on the inside. I bet she smells real fresh an’ clean. I look her up and down from behind the glass. She’s well- groomed in appearance her makeup is perfect, I remember when I use- ta look like that. Her legs are crossed at the knee an’ a tight black skirt nicely hugs her. I wonder if she’ll part her legs for me? I’m not greedy, just a bit so I can see what’s between her thighs. I imagine she’s got a nice pair-a lace panties on for me. I gotta thing for women in lace lingerie, I cut out all the pictures from the magazines an’ stick ‘em on my wall. Blonde, brunette, Asian, African- American, Latino I take ‘em all, I got me a girlfriend for every night a-the week on my wall. Stockings an’ suspenders are my favorite, with a pair-a the highest heels and no bra. Shit, I’m ganna make myself explode. In a low voice she pushes again.

“Ms. Vanacilli, if you could answer the question, tell me about you?… And why did you do it?”

“Is that what you think, I did it? You don’t believe my story? When I was on trial sweetpea, you were probably barely out of high school. Have you done your research?”

Again she blushes.

“Yes Ms. Vanacilli––”

I cut her off.

“Call me Lisa, don’t make me feel old with this Ms. Vanicelli bullshit.”

I smile sweetly and move my eyes back down to her tits.  She crosses her arms across her chest to hide herself, as she pulls herself up straight in her chair. She looks me in the eye. What a brave heart she is, reminds me of the young female inmates I tame, can’t resist them.

“Lisa, please if you could please answer my questions.”

She has nice eyes, green not bad. I wonder how old she is? I sigh, I’ll drop the insane murderer guard, just once and give her somethin’ to work with. Somethin’ to run back and type up a report on. Or sell to the magazines. I lean forward and dramatically eye her deep cleavage once more before I lock eyes with her.  Have you ever stared into the eyes of a murderer? Would you be fazed? Ms. Lipgloss holds her ground, can’t beat a strong woman.

“No sweetpea, my family disowned me years ago. My father’s probably dead by now or buried in some tramp’s pussy. My mom’s was always strung out on some kinda drug with her mouth locked around whatever pimp’s cock she could find to feed her habit. No matter what they tell you, or what you read, none of the stories ‘bout my perfect family are true. The mean streets of Brooklyn raised me. You wanna know what happened? You wanna know why I did it.. I’m ganna tell you a tale, it was the first time I killed a man.

Scene two Author B

And no, I’m not talkin’ about that cock suckin’ woman beater that I got locked away for killin’ either. That ship has sailed.”

Ms. Lipgloss perks up in her chair, her big green eyes suddenly widen. I can see the wheels turning in her head. She wasn’t expecting that bombshell. The apparent excitement in her face starts heatin’ me up in the middle. Fuck it. I’ve already been denied any kind of appeal, and all my attempts at escape so far have ended very bad for me. I guess it’s time to accept my fate. I’m already on death row, what more can they do? If I’m ever going to tell my secrets, it might as well be to this sexy ass reporter. All the rest have been dull, uptight bitches. Ten whole years and all they’ve ever sent to interview me are nasty old hags or fat sloppy men who probably couldn’t even keep their cocks hard for more than a couple a’ pumps.

“Lisa, are you telling me there are more?”

She leans forward with the question, allowing me to see even farther into the depths of her chest. I lick my lips before looking back up into her excited face. Apparently, I hit some kinda’ nerve. There’s a spark of adventure in her eyes. It’s the exact same spark I saw written all over the first woman I ever bent from straight in this place. That bitch was perfect. She tasted like a fuckin’ ice cream cone. I lean back in my metal chair with a smirk. I put my hands behind my head as my chains crash around on the tiled floor beside me. Should I really give it to her? Should I get Ms. Lipgloss the big break she’s been lookin’ for?

“I aint tellin’ you nothin til I get your name.” I push her even further, “and a peek of ya tits while we’re at it.”

“Excuse me?”

Clearly she’s both offended and intrigued.

“I’m not showing you anything.”

“Well then sweetpea, I’m not tellin’ you anythin’.”

“Damnit.”

She mouthed to herself.

Little Ms. Lipgloss shakes her head slightly in disbelief. Sitting on my side of the glass, I enjoy the show. This story’s gunna’ be huge for her. I know it will be. I’m the first female murderer on death row, and there’s shit even the cops don’t know ‘bout. It’s 1962 an’ all ‘em female serial killers that follow will salute me! I’m fuckin’ God to the tabloid papers of New York, I’m the first fuckin’ lady. The names Vanacilli straight outta Brooklyn, New York don’t forget it.

I’ve thought about what I’ve done every day for nearly fifteen since my first kill. The look in all their faces as I bled ‘em out. If I’m gunna’ set this little tart up for a mind blowing career then she’s gotta’ give me somethin’. My life and my secrets don’t come without a price.

“Isn’t there anything else we can arrange?”

She pleaded.

“Off the record, Lisa, I need this fucking story. What do you have to lose?  I can try and get you anything you want. Isn’t there some kind of food, or entertainment you want before they knock you off anyway?”

“Do I look like I give a shit ‘bout bein’ on or off record?”

She shook her head no.

I raise my voice and get up close to the glass.

“Nope, that’s right. All I care ‘bout right now is seein’ your tits sweetpea”

I reply with a full grin. I lower my voice. The pleading is so damn sexy, an’ I don’t wanna scare this sweet thang too much.

“You’re welcome to keep beggin’ too though. I like watching your mouth move.”

I give her a wink.

A new side of this sexy reporter finally comes to the surface. There’s a take charge air about her an’ I can feel myself wetten under this fuckin’ orange jumpsuit. God I wish there wasn’t any glass between us. I’d lick her entire body first like a creamsicle, an’ then I’d show her what a real orgasm feels like. I nearly lose my shit again, with excitement as I watch the girl start barking orders at the rest of the news crew. Of course on the outside I keep my cool, poker face persona I’m so well known for.

“Turn off all the damn cameras.”

She demands.

“Look away, and you all better edit out every fucking part of the conversation leading up to now. Everyone understand?”

I glance around the room before me. Eger nods of encouragement and excited smiles meet the faces of her crew. There are three men with her. These bunch-a dicks don’t deserve to be blessed with a look at her perfect tits, jealously boils within me. Each one’s standin’ behind bulky cameras on giant wheeled tripods, ready to capture every angle of myself an’ of her. They came here hoping for a success, but they have no damn clue what they’re actually in for. I’m not sure yet if I’m gunna reveal one kill or all five. I can’t wait to see these nosey men cringe at my past.

After tossing her notebook onto the piss yellow tiles of the floor, she stands up. Black four inch heels laced to her feet add length to those perfect legs. They’re toned an’ tan. Even through her skirt I can tell she’s got a slight gap between her thighs. It’s my favorite shape of a woman.

“My name is Tiffany. And, are you sure there isn’t some other way?”

Her voice cracks slightly, heavy with irritation and nerves.

“Don’t be shy sweetpea.”

I tell her, I lean forward to press my cuffed hands against the window.

“I wanna’ see ‘em both. And I want you to push them up on the glass too.”

The guard behind me coughs loudly into a closed fist before barking orders in my direction.

“Keep your hands in your lap Ms.Vanacilli!” bitch.

“It’s fine,”

Tiffany tells my guard.

“Whatever gets me this story is fine. Let’s just please keep this quiet, okay?”

I watch closely as my pretty little glossed lip puppet complies to my request.  She stands up in her four inch heels and tight black skirt. I watch as she removes her white silk blouse, and white lace bra, her tits fall out. I bark at her.

“Get up to the glass sweetpea an’ push ‘em up nice an’ close. Raise ya hands above ya head for me too. Keep ya legs nice an’ wide, there’s a good girl.”

From behind the glass I get up close again an’ look her in the eye. I press my cuffed hands against the glass as I lick where her perfect tits are placed. She looks down an’ watches me. I give each one a long, wet, slow ice cream cone lick. My hands travel down the glass to her hot spot an’ I drop to my knees.

“Ms. Vanacilli get back now!”

I roll my eyes an’ bark over my shoulder.

“Fuckin’ party pooper! You pissin’ on my party or what, huh?”

“On your chair, please.”

The guard shouts.

Now if it were not for my guard, Ms. Lipgloss be bent over touching her ankles so I can get a look at her Latin curves from behind, in that tight skirt. Them Latinos are my weakness, they swagger in here to start their time as female inmates with their curvy asses and I wanna touch myself every time.

I sigh and get to my feet as my chains crash against to floor.  I soften my face as I look into her eyes and whisper.

“Pucker up sweetpea gimme a kiss.”

She presses her lips up to the glass without hesitation, I think she likes the attention. I kiss Ms. Lipgloss on the mouth from behind the glass and look her square in the eye, she breathes deeply. With her hands above her head still and her tits pressed up against the glass. In just her black skirt an’ heels I watch the rise an’ fall of her shoulders an’ chest.

As I sit back in my seat my hands move back to my lap, but they’re far from still. I press a couple fingers on my clit through the thick cotton fabric of my jumpsuit. With heavy breath, I push and swirl while I stare at the meaty flesh pressed up against the window. Even her nipples are perfect, tiny little things. Her voice rings in like a bell, much softer than everything else she’s said so far. It’s as if she’s finally given into me – accepted the connection.

“Are we done?” She asks my permission to put her own tits away. She’s a damn fast learner my permission is needed, that’s right.

I nod up at her first, and then I lean my head back and close my eyes. I use the buildup of the moment, and let it carry me away. As I continue to give myself pleasure. I let my mind wander to a different time. A place from my past that I often visit in memory just as I’m on the verge of crashing into orgasm. It’s the story I’ll tell her. My first and all-time favorite kill. The cause of my death addiction. The reason I’m here in the fuckin’ first place. Finally, my body explodes from the inside out. I open my eyes back up, catch my breath, and let my mouth mold into a satisfied grin.  Ms. Lipgloss looks at me stunned, they all fuckin’ do. I laugh out loud and blow her another kiss.

“Alright it’s show time sweetpea, grab ya paper an’ pen.”

 

 

August 1957, Manhattan night club. Five years before the murder trial.

 

The place is thick with a fresh sweaty stink mixed with a swirl of Vodka and expensive perfume. It’s a classy little dance club, with the most beautiful jazz music blaring from a small corner stage. It’s not usually my style to let rich drunk men rub up against me on a dance floor. Especially after dousing myself in sticky glitter skin paste, and while tripping over my own feet in tall bulky platforms. I can hardly stay standing, and every time I trip over myself I get more and more pissed off at the evening.

I let a girlfriend-a mine talk me into comin’  here, to hook up with some douchebag she met while servin’ cocktails a few nights ago. He promised to bring a friend for me, an’ said I wouldn’t have to buy any a’ my own drinks all night. So fuck it, I couldn’t pass up the free alcohol.

I glance down the length of the bar at my date as he pushes through the crowd in ma’ direction. He’s a slob. Just ‘cause he’s got money don’t make him any better than all the rest of the perverted violent dicks I’ been with. After a lifetime of public groping and countless trips to the emergency room after a good beating, I’ve pretty much come to terms with the reality of men. Or at least the men I always wind up exposed to. I wanna kill one. I always have. I’ve been witness to a few murders and nothing after came outta it. Most men deserve it, especially one like my date. They have it coming.

His name is Steven, an’ he reminds me of a boyfriend I had just outta’ high school named Ramone. Steven has the exact same frame. He’s wide in the shoulders with lengthy legs an’ a broad arm span. Ramone taught me the hard way ‘bout how hard a man with long arms can throw a punch. He also introduced me to the painful feel of a ribcage kick delivered by the foot attached to such long muscular legs. Those beatings usually happened only moments before he raped me repeatedly. Sometimes even in front-a  his careless pig friends. I grimace at the memory then swallow my double shot a’ Tequila in one gulp. It’s my fourth one so far, an’ I’m already startin’ to feel it.

The more I drink, the more I fantasize ‘bout it, every single time. Especially when I drink Tequila. I watch Steven move, his tight pants exposing the outline of his cock. I picture it as Ramone’s, jabbing into me while I slipped in and out of consciousness. Fuck Ramone, and fuck Steven too. Tonight, might be the night. I think I’m finally gunna to do it. The image of a knife slicing across Steven’s neck causes a heavy pulse between my legs, an’ my nipples harden with excitement.

Steven is finally able to close the gap between us. He slips a large arm ‘round my waist then forces his big curious hand ‘round my ass cheek and squeezes – too hard. This dick has no clue what he’s in for. One more ass or tittie grab, an’ I’m doing it. Fuck it. I been dreamin’ this long enough.  It’s time for action.

Steven turns his attention to the bar tender.

“We’ll each have another double, sexy.”

“Sure,”

She beamed at him like some kinda fuckin’ groupie.

“What do you say we get outta here?”

He breathed heavily down my neck.

This is my chance, I thought, it’s now or never.

“I’d love to.”

I grinned.

“My apartment’s actually within walking distance.” I lied.

“Just let me use the bathroom first, an’ I’ll meet you outside.”

“Then do it. I’m ready to fuck you already!”

Steven said as he smacked my ass hard enough to nearly knock me over an’ started for the door.

I take a giant step forward an’ grab ahold of a barstool to keep my balance. What a schmuck. An eerie excitement starts poolin’ in my belly as I take a piss. I’m finally gonna’ do it. Tonight’s the night I’m gonna take a life, my mind is made up. I’m gonna’ kill this ass grabbing disrespectful piece-a shit. The steps I need to take swirl round my head. I have to be smart ‘bout this. One can’t just go on murderin’ people without a plan.

Sounds of the pulsating music blast through the air. Confidently, I use the baby blue ceramic soap dish by the sink to shatter a corner of the large mirror on the wall. I slip a decent sized chunk of glass under my skirt, secure in place against my skin by the elastic of my panties. It’ll be easily accessible when the timin‘s right, yet no one’ll ever notice it. The bulky belt over my skirt does a great job at keepin’ the glass outta’ sight.

After findin’ my friend an’ tellin’ her a lie ‘bout my date leavin’ me for another woman. I promise her I’ll be careful.

“It’s fine.”

I shout at her over the beat.

“I’m just ganna find a ride an’ go home.”

“Are you sure?” she yelled back.

“Ya! You just have fun! There’s a buncha’ cabs lined up outside.”

She bought the story an’ brushed me off without any more thought. She just keeps swaying intimately with the cocktail douche. They haven’t even taken their eyes off each other all night. It’s fuckin’ sick if you ask me.

I find Steven waiting by the side of the club. He’s already wandered off, away from any crowd unnoticed. Not a soul has seen us together outside the place, an’ as far as his buddy knows, he left with another girl a long time ago. Fuckin’ easy. The Tequila runs wild in my veins an’ I’m surging with a drunken anticipation. The broken glass in my panties’ elastic I felt with every step I took, it practically burned a hole in my flesh. I smiled to myself. The very second I approached him, the degrading began. It’s just enough to confirm my decision.

“I hope you’re good at sucking cock.”

He says, but not before giving a breast a hard enough squeeze to leave bruises on the top side. He leaned into me, pressing my body against the brick frame of the club. We’re in the alleyway an’ it’s dark. Very dark. I’m tempted to do the job right here an’ now, but I restrained myself.  Too risky here. Steven kisses my neck an’ then bit it.  Not quite hard enough to break skin, but it hurt nonetheless. A deep moan rumbled in his throat. I wiggled out from beneath him and force a wanting smile.

“Of course I know how to suck cock.”

I told him, my secret stuck to the back of my mind.

“Let’s just get to my apartment, Steven, an’ I promise you’re in for a surprise.”

I flashed him the most seductive smile I could conjure an’ then I started walking farther into the alley, away from the club. Steven followed me like an excited puppy. He’s ready to get his cock wet, an’ I’m ready to experience my first kill.

“Steven. Can I wear your jacket, until we get there?” I asked.

“It’s freezing out here an’ this outfit aint covering much.”

“Ugh,” he groans, wholly irritated.

“I guess, are we getting close?”

“Ya, almost there.” I lied.

I turned down another dark alley just two blocks from the club. His jacket now hanging from my shoulders. It reached all the way down to my knees, coverin’ my clothing completely. This is perfect! I turned and look at him.

“You know what. Why wait?”

I motion him over to me with a curled pointer finger.

“Why don’t you just come over here, an’ fuck me now?”

Steven doesn’t say a word at my invitation. He only smiles and then shoves me with both hands against another dirty brick wall. My back slammed against it causing the wind to unload from my lungs in one painful huff. He buried his face in the curve of my neck an’ collarbone, breathing heavy an’ reaching for the backs of my thighs. I unbuckle his pants as quickly as my hands will go an’ then reach up the front of my own skirt. I’m able to grab the piece of glass, using the sleeve of his jacket to conceal it in my tiny hand.

I then let Steven rip my panties to the side an’ force himself in. I’m so wet from the excitement an’ anticipation, it doesn’t take me long to teeter the edge. Just as my stomach pools with the buildup an’ my body begins to crash ‘round him, I use every bit of strength I have to force the broken glass into his neck. One quick jab, ‘nd the entire arm of his jacket is soaked with the wet scarlet fluid. It shoots from his neck in pulses. My leg twitched as I finished up, while watching the shock and pain in Steven’s face.

He dropped almost instantly to his knees, his cock pulled outta of me in the process. Quickly I stepped aside, giving him room to lay flat an’ twitch his final movements. The last thing I needed was this piece of shit’s blood all over these stupid fuckin’ platform shoes.

The cover up is easy. Much easier than I ever even dreamed of. I drop his jacket to the ground beside his dead body and stepped away clean. No blood seeped through, my clothing was spotless. The quick walk back to the club is made in no time at all, an’ I took a cab home, just like I told my friend I would in the first place.

I sit in the back seat of the car, wholly satisfied in every way. I move my eyes back over to Ms. Lipgloss. Her mouth is open in complete shock and her eyebrows almost reach the freakin’ ceilin’.

“And that, sweetpea was the first time I killed a man.”

Who wants part #2?? we loved creating this crazy ass woman 🙂

By Kim Knight Romantic Suspense and Thriller Author  ( London, UK) & Didi Oviatt Suspense and Thriller Author ( Utah, USA).

 

Telling-Tales-Weekly-Challenege-Kim-&-Didi

Next week: Hop on over to Didi’s author site, she’ll be in the drivers seat with the voting poll. The poll will be up on Wednesday 24th May 2017. Please join in and vote in our next writing prompt to deliver next Tuesday. 🙂

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge Didi and I by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday well post a voting pole with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.)
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt you chose!
 
All comments on the story posts will be open. We love feedback, and I’m willing to bet you will never guess who wrote what!!   Therein a challenge of your own! (Yes, one of us writes in British English, and one of us in American. We are well aware, and ready for some trickery. Trust me, we are brilliant at adapting styles.)