Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Conrad barked out a laugh as he returned to her bedside. “Here’s a little something off the cuff. You are more important to me than anyone or thing, and I require you to be alive. You put my heart into overdrive.”
Eek! “Your talent for poetry is unsurpassed.” A talent in need of protecting. If someone was out there, intending to hurt him, well, they were soon to learn the error of their ways.
Player two was ready. She wouldn’t stop until the culprit was locked behind bars.
CHAPTER THREE
Start with an extended dream sequence. Nothing builds higher expectations for your story.
Y’all Write Now–Advice for New Writers
by Tabby Paynes-Murksand
For the good of the case, Jane obeyed the doctor’s orders and took it easy for the rest of the evening. Probably the most difficult thing she’d ever done, as well as the easiest. One, Conrad insisted. Two, Cheddar cuddled at her side, drooling in his sleep. Three, her head still throbbed. And four, she couldn’t stop thinking about the cat-and-mouse game and how someone hated her and/or Conrad and/or Hannah and/or the former sheriff enough to write a book detailing a murder, print and mail fake invitations, then hang around a crime scene to deliver the final blows.
Had the killer used Jane and Conrad’s romance as a distraction tactic to ensure they overlooked a motive to off Hannah? Was Abigail Waynes-Kirkland involved or not?
Okay, so, Jane buckled under pressure and spent a little time scouring social media. Thankfully, her sleuthing paid off, and she unearthed a tidbit about Hannah’s adult children. They lived out of state, had been cut out of her will, and none had visited either of their parents for years. Something Mason had lamented in several posts, as well as the reason Jane deleted the three offspring from her list of suspects.
Through it all, Conrad refused to leave her side. He worked from the couch, going over photographs and footage from the crime scene, rereading statements he’d obtained from select individuals, sending emails, making calls, issuing orders to his deputies, seeking advice from the former sheriff, and checking on Jane every half hour on the dot. She was snuggled up at his side, and yes, okay, she did go over those photographs, videos, statements and emails of his, too, while simultaneously attending a Team Truth meeting via a texting group chat on her phone. A professional’s work was never done.
The members of her exclusive (real) murder solving club were Conrad, of course, plus Fiona and Raymond, Beau, Trick, Isaac and Holden, and (reluctantly) Tiffany. Trick was the one who’d drawn the short straw and moved into the Garden with the widow.
Oh! New messages were flying in.
The Holden Rule: I spoke with Abigail Waynes-Kirkland at the Manor on Prospect. She claims to have spotted a woman matching Lucy’s description coming out of the Treasure Room minutes before Jane was found and wants to “remind everyone” that she wasn’t Hannah’s biggest fan and despises Jane, but she isn’t a killer.
Holden used to crush on Lucy, so obviously he’d been the one who’d volunteered to hunt for her. What had Lucy seen? And where was Cartier? Also, why did perfect little fur-boys have to grow up and become fur-men? Rolex had chosen to stay with Tiffany at the Garden rather than leave with his adoring mother.
Anyway. That Holden had just proven Abigail was in the area at the time of Jane’s attack, not merely afterward. Suspicious! Even more so was Abigail’s choice of destination tonight. Fine dining? Really? Was she celebrating a successful slaying, perhaps? Or drowning out her sorrows for letting Jane live?
Jane: Did Abigail mention if Lucy carried a cat or not?
The Holden Rule: No mention of a cat, no.
So Lucy had run from the secret room without Cartier, whom she adored.
Jane turned to Conrad, petting the sleeping, drooling Cheddar. “Did you know Abigail spotted Lucy exiting the Treasure Room before the firefighters arrived?”
“I did.”
What! “And you didn’t share that information with me?”
“How was I supposed to know you didn’t read it on my screen at the same time I did?”
Ha! Good answer. Still, Jane tsked-tsked and skimmed the subsequent message.
Tiffinator: Abigail is many horrible things, but she isn’t a killer. Probably. By the way, if you could pick me up a straightedge, razor blade and some distressed ink in pink, that would be great.
Jane: Focus Tiff! We’re discussing murder, not your new card making endeavors.
Tiffany and Abigail were childhood friends. Until the widow lost her fortune thanks to a philandering husband. Then Abigail had dropped her hot potato-style. Before that, the so-called best friend had been one of the many who’d had an affair with Tiff’s hubby. To Jane, an evil heart was an evil heart, and Abigail had the evilest heart of all. Tiffany, for her plethora of faults, hadn’t yet wised up to that fact.