By Billie A.
Williams
Cozy Mystery, 229 Pages
Cover art by Richard Stroud
Blurb:
Trapped by the tornado, April
eyed the monster she had rescued from the caved in basement room and splinted
his mangled leg, before she realized he was the serial killer she was tracking.
"You have a gun and bullets. I
believe you should be able to sever those leg irons by shooting the
chain."
Jeddah waved the gun. "Or, have it ricochet off and hit
me somewhere else."
Preferably
between the eyes, April
wouldn't dare say what she thought.
Excerpt:
Jeddah memorized the first officer’s
face. He’s dead! He muttered to
himself. When he got his chance, that one would be the first to go.
A black thunderhead rolled across
the sky. Lightning scratched bold lines from the blackness ahead of them to the
ground. Waves of light inside the clouds told of more fury within. Suddenly,
the car veered left as the sudden gust of wind from the storm slammed into them
from a cross street.
“Holy smack, this one is going to be
a doozie,” the driver said, struggling to gain control of the car. The wheel
had nearly jerked out of his hand and he used his whole body to force the wheel
right before they slammed into the approaching traffic. The sudden jolt and
attempt at reversal tossed Jeddah from one side of the car to the other—he felt
like his head was going to split. He hated storms—they scared the hell out of
him. The rain splashed in great sheets across the road, windshield wipers on
full blast, the car inched out of town. Jeddah watched the trees bow and scrape
as the ground rumbled and trembled beneath the car.
“Think we should seek cover?” one of
the men shouted above the storm’s roar.
“There’s an old mansion about a
quarter mile up the road, if my memory serves me. We’ll try to get there. Too
many trees here we could get on dropped on us.
The weather forecast said showers,
not this,” the second man said, twisting nervously in the front seat.
Jeddah crouched low in the back
seat. He hated storms and this was no ordinary thunderstorm. The blackness gave
way to a sickly yellow and it seemed the earth stood still, suffocating
everything with its lack of air.
Suddenly the car swerved again… the
officer who was driving grabbed his chest, making a gurgling sound. The
steering wheel twirled left, then right. The officer slumped sideways in the
seat, held up only by the seatbelt. The car bounced into the ditch and up the
other side of the small bank before it slammed into a tree. The second
officer’s head hit hard against the dash and Jeddah bounced into the mesh
separating him from the officers.
Dazed, the officer in the passenger
seat shook the driver. “Neal, Neal, are you all right?” No answer. The officer
quickly undid his seatbelt and clicked the lock to open the doors.
Instantly alert, Jeddah heard his
opportunity. He pretended to be passed out as the officer checked the back seat
before going around to the driver’s side to try to get Neal
out of the driver’s seat. He pushed the radio button, “Officer down,” he said
into the mike.
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