It's day seven of my Passing Time Blog Tour, and today I'm visiting Moonlit author Jadie Jones. I'll be revealing ten things you may not know about me.
If you want to know what the first story I wrote was about, who I have a crush on, or how many surnames I've had, don't miss it.
Before I share today's teaser from Passing Time, I need to highlight a fantastic offer - print copies of Jadie Jones's Moonlit are currently 25% off at Amazon. Grab your copy for a breath-taking read. I've ordered mine.
Today's Passing Time teaser comes from The Vegas Screamer, a story I wrote for Static Movement's Serial Killer anthology. I never expected to write a story involving a serial killer but my love of CSI and Criminal Minds probably had something to do with it. Don't worry - I chose a non-squeamish part.
I made up my mind to kill a woman I was hitching a ride with after we’d clocked a hundred kilometres on the odometer. I always decided that way. If I couldn’t stand a woman’s company for that long, it wasn’t worth the trouble of killing her. Fran was different. I could have gone from the west to east coast with her–she was worth the time.
“I remember how good it was to drive off road,” Fran said, checking her rear view mirror. “Nothing like these cruise-controlled sedans, driving on faultless asphalt highways. With gravel you felt every stone. You knew what gears were then, I can tell you.”
I’d heard it all before. Fran had driven on every road surface known to man.
“You never felt the urge to drive before the accident?” she asked, glancing sideways at my prosthetic arm.
“No need. Limos all the way in our family,” I answered.
“Jeez. Must have been good.”
“Oh,” she said, open-mouthed. “Did you have a chauffeur?”
With my good arm, I reached for the window control button and remembered it was broken. Instead, I used a gloved hand to lower the window a few inches. A cool wind whipped around my face. Temperatures on this stretch of the American highway could reach forty-four degrees Celsius, and I was grateful for the breeze.
“He was called Lionel,” I said, pausing to lower the window another couple of inches. “I swear he was twice my height and size. He’d drive me to and from school, sports club, the mall, and any other extra after-school activities. The thing that amazed me was how immaculate his uniform always looked. Not a crease or speck of dirt. Always wore his jacket, too–even on the warmest days.”
“I seem to attract anything loose in this car,” Fran said, fussing with her top.
I could see dog or cat hairs speckled over her cardigan and pants. She was an attractive woman for her age–had that wholesome glow about her–but she talked too much for my liking. That was what made her special. She’d be a good screamer.
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Here are a couple of tweet suggestions:
Passing Time: Nine Short Tales of the Strange and Macabre
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That's it for today. Tomorrow Ciara Knight will be this week's Speculative Fiction Writer and I'll be visiting M. Pax over at Spacedock 19. Have an awesome day.