mystery-suspense

You have the Answer. Just get quiet enough to hear it. ~Pat Obuchowski

When you just have a torch and horror around you... then turn off the torch.

The wind blowing through the cracks in the walls was fitting for this isolated and lonely place.

All the real secrets are buried, and only ghosts speak the truth.

Six nervous wives at the sink, each quiet as a queen on a chessboard.

She smiled sinisterly. Light mist started to slowly swirl around us. All I could see was her, the tall rocks and the white wall. She beckoned to me. I took a step and another. I was now ankle deep into the water. The mysterious girl smiled like a predator.

Creativity is a commodity and derives its value only in how energy is spent.

King Yorandt to Kristina in book three of Fracture the Secret Enemy Saga~Secretsrelease date: Summer 2014 Even the master does not play perfectly. He can only hope to make fewer mistakes than his opponent, and that in the end, he is the victor. Sajah (chess) is a ruthless game where the pieces are all pawns and the Queen is the true killer. She spares no one to protect the king. The king however, is ruled by all of the pieces that lay before him, even his opponent. Every move is a decision that can change the whole board, and the endgame.

Lending my voice to a dedicated readership is a match made in heaven.

The kindest thing you can offer an author is a review and a star rating. So appreciated. THE GOLDEN PEACOCK has had a successful 5-star run on Goodreads and on Amazon. Thank you!_ Lauren B. Grossman

Shy, all those things you listed don__ make a person. They don__. I mean it. You__e beautiful, both inside and outside, but please don__ look at me to validate that. You have to know it for yourself. -Taylor Holden, Strapped.

There were fat cats and skinny cats. The long-tailed and the bobbed. The daring young leapers, and the old windowsill sleepers. Balls of waddling fluff, smooth-coated prowlers, and hairless ones that looked fragile and wise. The tiger-striped, the ring-tailed, and the ones with matching coloured socks and mittens. There were tabbies and calicos. Manx and Persians. Siamese and Bombay. Ragdolls and Birmans. Maine Coons and Russian Blues. There were Snowshoes and Somalis, Tonkinese and Turkish, and many, many more. Brown and beige and orange and grey and black and white and silver cats, each with gleaming eyes of emerald, or sapphire, or amber. A rainbow of precious stones.

Like the dark clouds above that promised rain but withheld it, her presence there was a lie. For in truth, this horrific slaughter had already damned the small race; their fate had already come and gone.

Eventually everyone dies, but death, in various forms and ways, still comes as a shock. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Or they consign you to flames. The flesh sizzles and the bones crackle. be grateful it happens in that order.

Damn straight" said Connor. " So yeah, I look at you and I could suck start a leaf blower, or drill a Kevin-shaped body hole into the wall, like a cartoon.

I help others because I can, not because I expect something in return.

Woe be to the wug who forgets that destroying one part of a thing does not equal victory

Vicki M. Taylor's "Not Without Anna," is a gripping, hard-hitting, thought-provoking look at the escalating crisis of teen alcohol and drug abuse. Charlene Austin