mystery-suspense

This book's like black holes. It really engulfes you whole.

Err:510

Believe in yourself, Follow your dreams, and all things are possible!

Focus. She__ Maddie. Your friend. Would you eyeball Keith or Dane__ butt like that? ~ Zach

Give to the world the best you have and the best will come back to you.

Trust me. You__e a constant riddle with an ever-changing solution." ~ FBI Special Agent Clive Poole to Maggie Mae Castro

A soft mist blew around them. Raindrops glistened in his hair, shimmering under the pale glow of the light post. His eyes were shadowed beneath wispy fringes, but the silver in them glinted like pools of liquid mercury. Her breath caught. It must have made a sound because his fingers tightened. His shaky exhale whispered across her face.__his,_ he whispered so quietly she almost didn__ hear him. __s why you are so bad for me.

His eyes were twin flakes of ember floating into the night from a roaring inferno. __ won__ let anything happen to you. No matter what I have to do, I will keep you safe.

The fiery tickle of outrage burned up her throat. __ow the hell would you know that when you never gave me a chance?__omething dark and scorching flickered behind his eyes. __ecause no other girl has ever made me want to forget all my own rules for them.

One wrong move, one bad rumor, one mistake, and it's social death row. I'm the latest to be sentenced. Move out of the way, everyone. Dead girl walking. -Riley

Red glowing eyes... No one could see her. No one could hear her. No one was coming to save her. Because Death had come sooner than expected.

He began as a minor imitator of Fitzgerald, wrote a novel in the late twenties which won a prize, became dissatisfied with his work, stopped writing for a period of years. When he came back it was to BLACK MASK and the other detective magazines with a curious and terrible fiction which had never been seen before in the genre markets; Hart Crane and certainly Hemingway were writing of people on the edge of their emotions and their possibility but the genre mystery markets were filled with characters whose pain was circumstantial, whose resolution was through action; Woolrich's gallery was of those so damaged that their lives could only be seen as vast anticlimax to central and terrible events which had occurred long before the incidents of the story. Hammett and his great disciple, Chandler, had verged toward this more than a little, there is no minimizing the depth of their contribution to the mystery and to literature but Hammett and Chandler were still working within the devices of their category: detectives confronted problems and solved (or more commonly failed to solve) them, evil was generalized but had at least specific manifestations: Woolrich went far out on the edge. His characters killed, were killed, witnessed murder, attempted to solve it but the events were peripheral to the central circumstances. What I am trying to say, perhaps, is that Hammett and Chandler wrote of death but the novels and short stories of Woolrich *were* death. In all of its delicacy and grace, its fragile beauty as well as its finality.Most of his plots made no objective sense. Woolrich was writing at the cutting edge of his time. Twenty years later his vision would attract a Truffaut whose own influences had been the philosophy of Sartre, the French nouvelle vague, the central conception that nothing really mattered. At all. But the suffering. Ah, that mattered; that mattered quite a bit.

You don__ look like much, but they say you murdered that other chick._ Treating Murder

Don't wanna ever take your shoes off in coconut land. Never know when you're gonna have to run.

Awoke to find three vultures sitting on the fence. Realizing they were a portent of impending death I shot them.

So, you think your coffee-addicted mother is amusing._ She pushed at his shoulder. ____l get even with you. I__l show your naked baby pictures to your girlfriend._ ~ Chapter 9 The Truth and Nothing but Lies

And to think I could be at home cleaning the cat box," Esther Charlemagne said. "Watching for a Peeping Tom is so much better."~ Chapter 2 The Night Shadow by Cheri Vause

Looking at the Blessed Mother, Kevin felt the pull of a special allegiance with her. To Serve God, to honor Mary who speaks to my soul, sending me messages I cannot know the meaning of? Is this what my life is about?