The willowy figure is first spotted alongside the trail, a few feet ahead of her in the scraggy woodland. She counts the number of steps she will take to position herself behind him for optimal throat-cutting proximity.
Tag: Mondays Are Murder
I told William to meet me in the alley between Fifth and Sixth, on the east side of Pershing Square. Pershing in those days was where LA began its slump towards the homeless camps of the dried-up river.
“”BAM, BAM!” The report from his handgun caused folks to drop to the floor and scurry away like cockroaches seeking cover.”
“Here’s a supercluster of 100,000 galaxies.”
Melanie and Matt drove past their potential client’s house, a white stucco tear-down on a lesser street in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the country.
Max Renzi was running out of time. Scurrying through the crowd, his beady eyes scanning over the policemen, the TV reporters, the children clogging the sidewalk, he figured he had an hour, maybe two, before D.C. got too hot for him.
He’s a cop. I’m not. It’s a Ride-Along Program. I did one before. With a cop who wouldn’t talk.
“Mr. Funderburke, I think I may be a psychotic serial killer.”
Featured: Black Interest
- Home Girl
- Bandits & Bibles: Convict Literature in Nineteenth-Century America
- Climb: Taking Every Step with Conviction, Courage, and Calculated Risk to Achieve a Thriving Career and a Successful Life
- Song for Night
- HNIC (limited edition signed package)
- The Freedom Artist
- God Carlos
- New-Generation African Poets: A Chapbook Box Set (Tatu)
- The Duppy
- The Gospel According to Cane
- Becoming Abigail