I'm a writer .... now what?

By Roseanne Dowell

My goal in life was to become a topnotch journalist. I loved writing. Always had. Ever since I can remember that’s all I ever wanted to be. Suddenly, the goal was at hand. Within reach. I got it. My first big byline! I beat out all the other reporters at the scene and the paper printed my story. MINE!


I was ecstatic. So… there I was drinking a cup of coffee and reading my story. My headline! GEORGIE PORGIE PUDDING AND DIE by me, Susan Weston. Word for word just the way I’d written it. Not one word changed. I’d been first on the murder scene the night before. Got there before the cops, so I got a pretty good look at the body. Turned out to be a guy I knew from the neighborhood. Pretty gruesome, too. Not a sight I’m likely to forget.

So like I said, I was drinking my coffee and reading my story and Okay, gloating a little bit. It made me feel good that for once my story got printed and not those other guys. This was it. I knew it. My big chance. Things were going to change now. No more fluff pieces for me. Nope, now the boss would have to assign me to some good stories. And then everything went haywire. The phone rang. Nothing unusual in that. My phone often rings. Of course I answered. The voice on the other end sent goosebumps up my arm, down my spine, and chills down to my toes. It still does. Just thinking about it.

I could hardly hear the caller. His raspy voice faded out, and I only caught a couple of words. Something about liking my story and strawberries. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I figured it was a crank call. Reporters got them all the time. But something about that call bothered me. Nagged at me.

My life hasn’t been the same since. To find out what happened, you’re going to have to read my book, Ring Around the Rosy available from Amazon. Click HERE to buy it.






Excerpt:

Susan propped the News Gazette on the counter and focused on the headline. ‘Georgie Porgie, Pudding and Die’ by Susan Weston, it blared at her. Her headline. Her story. She’d done it. Finally got her headline. She drummed her hands on the counter and did a little dance step. She swore if her grin got any wider her face would crack. .”Susan Weston, journalist!” she shouted. God, she wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

The phone rang, startling her. “Who the heck is calling at this hour? “ She grabbed the phone. “Hello.” Bella rubbed against her legs, waiting to be fed. “Hello?” Susan grabbed the box of kitty food, filled the bowl, and set it on the floor.

“Hello,” she repeated, ready to hang up if no one answered this time.

The evil, raspy voice on the other end sent goose-bumps up her spine. “Who is this?” she whispered.

The voice mumbled something she could barely hear.

“Strawberries? What are you talking about?”

“Just for you,” the garbled voice continued.

“I can’t hear you. Who is this?” What kind of sick joke is this?

She caught the words, “loved your headline,” more garbled words, and “Watch for Jack be nimble.” Then the phone line went dead.

Susan grabbed the counter to steady herself. Her hand trembled, and she stared at the phone. She dropped the receiver back into its cradle as if it was on fire. But she couldn’t stop the trembling. Her stomach churned. Nausea filled her throat. What was wrong with her? Just someone playing a sick joke. This wasn’t her first crank call, why react like this? Maybe because none of the others had sounded like this.

He said he liked her story. That shouldn’t bother her. Something about that voice, so harsh, so evil. It gnawed at her. The hair prickled on the back of her neck. Something about it seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

After pouring a cup of coffee, she read the story under the headline aloud, trying to keep her mind off the phone call. “Police are investigating the death of thirty-one year old George Lucas, whose body was found last night in Lagoon Park near his west side home.” The sound of her shaky voice surprised her.

What was the matter with her? “Get a grip, girl.”

Must be the effect of seeing the lifeless body. The way George Lucas’s eyes stared into space. What was he thinking when he looked into his killer’s eyes? The distant street lamp didn’t help. It cast an eerie shadow on the victim. His face frozen in terror, lips parted in a silent scream, and his head tilted to one side as if it was too heavy for his neck. The way one hand clutched at his throat and the other gripped the note, fingers frozen around it, sent icy chills through her, even now. She shuddered.

Thank God there wasn’t any blood, since the image would forever be embedded in her mind. Susan rubbed her arms to warm them.

Picking up the paper, she continued to read. “The coroner will determine the cause of death, but early reports indicate that Mr. Lucas was strangled. Lipstick was smeared across the victim’s mouth, and he clasped the nursery rhyme, ‘Georgie Porgie,’ in his hand. The teen who discovered the body reported seeing a man carrying a bag and wearing a gray shirt running from the park moments before. Police have no suspects at this time.”

Bella brushed against her legs, jumped on the counter, and snuggled against her.

Susan’s heart pounded. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So much for the thrill of seeing her name on the front page. The image of the body filled her mind. Her hands trembled while she held the paper and reread the headline with her name below it. It was exactly as she had written it — not one word changed, short and to the point.

George Lucas lived in her neighborhood. She’d seen him a few times in Meliti’s Market talking to old Mrs. Meliti. Although they never spoke, they had nodded and smiled hello. Nice-looking guy, about her age. What a shock seeing him dead. Another shiver shook her body. Seeing a dead body was bad enough, but knowing the victim threw her for a loop. Made it personal.

Arriving only a few minutes before the police showed up and ordered her to leave, not that they had to tell her twice, she had viewed the crime scene and then skedaddled lickety-split. She knew enough about crime scenes to maintain a distance, knew if she got too close, she’d compromise the scene, maybe even leave trace evidence of herself behind. She didn’t need that. But she’d been close enough to read that paper in his hand, a nursery rhyme. She’d seen every gory detail.

The nursery rhyme letters, cut out from newspapers and magazines, and bowl of chocolate pudding and the strawberry pie that had been dumped on the victim’s head would stay in her memory for a long time. Of course, the police requested that information not be printed.

Requested, hell. Demanded was more like it, but Susan understood. Those were facts only the killer knew, and it prevented crank confessions. Couldn’t give the public too much information. After waiting behind the crime scene tape long enough to hear the possible cause of death, she hurried home to write her story before the deadline.

Susan walked around the kitchen. To sweeten the deal, her colleagues hadn’t shown up until well after they’d taped off the crime scene, hadn’t seen what she’d seen. So Ernie printed her story. Her first big byline! Even that cocky reporter, Dan Hill, hadn’t beat her out this time.

Staring at the large headline, she sipped her coffee. The words from the phone call rambled around in her mind.

“Strawberries. The voice on the phone said something about strawberries. Strawberry Pie dumped over the victim’s head.” Her voice cracked at the memory.

Only the killer knew about the pie. Her body shook. Had she been talking to the killer? What else had the caller said? Jack be nimble. Another nursery rhyme.

Grabbing the counter to steady herself, she repeated part of the nursery rhyme “Jack be nimble…”

Her mind raced. She pushed away from the counter and paced the kitchen, trying to remember the rest of the rhyme.

“Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jumped over the candlestick. That’s it!”

What the heck did it mean? Was he going to kill again? Was there a serial killer out there?

She grabbed the phone and dialed the police department. Maybe it was nothing, but she needed to report it. Something didn’t sit right.

Help the Homeless with Author Teri Thackston

Author Teri Thackston has asked me to pass on this infromation. To help celebrate her birthday, she's donating 55 cents for each copy of her newest release Onslaught to the Star of Hope mission.  Star of Hope is a homeless shelter/food kitchen in Houston, TX, who, obviously, help the downtrodden.  


Here's what Teri had to say:


I want to raise more money for the Star of Hope, so I'm extending my double-nickels promo for the entire month of April. Please SHARE with your friends who might be interested in helping this great homeless shelter—and reading a suspense novel that features terrifying storms, kidnapped children and, of course, a bit of romance. For every copy of Onslaught that sells during April 2012, I'll donate fifty-five cents to the Star of Hope Mission.

The Star of Hope Mission is a Christ-centered organization that provides food, shelter and counseling to homeless men, women and children. It is truly one of America's stars so I hope you will help me to support them. Simply order a copy of Onslaught from Amazon, Barnes and Noble or Smashwords during April to help an amazing organization do its work. I would appreciate you sharing this announcement with all your friends. Thanks!

Sorrow’s Point, Texas is under attack. Robberies, drug trafficking, a suspicious fire…for local cop Joshua Dawson, the only thing missing in this assault on his coastal hometown is a hurricane. But it is September—the month for vicious storms—so he’s not betting against one.

Ronnie Clarke never broke a law in her life…until the day she kidnapped two month-old Danny. But it was the only way to save the baby from the nut-case cult that wants to sell him to the head of a Mexican drug cartel. So she hides with him in quiet little Sorrow's Point.

But Sorrow's Point isn't as quiet as she hoped. The bad guys are closing in. Joshua Dawson is asking too many questions about her and Danny…personal questions that she would love to answer. But he’s a cop and she’s a kidnapper. So, to protect Danny from the evil pursuing him, she must withhold the truth from this man who insists on always doing the right thing. Joshua, however, is determined to uncover her secrets. 

And that September storm, like the attraction brewing between them, is building on the horizon.

Here are the direct links:

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/7duylmk 
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/756mopp 
Smashwords (for PDF or other formats): http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/140723
Star of Hope Mission (http://www.sohmission.org )
Thanks!

Teri
www.terithackston.com 

Romancing The Serial Killer

by Jerrie Alexander

I'm a native Texan. My husband and I live outside of Fort Worth, where my brother loves to tell people I'm so far out in the country we get Saturday Night Live on Wednesday morning. He's always been the family comedian. I'm the one who digs into the psychology of a killer's mind, trying to balance his evil with romance.

I've been told I'm at my best when I'm in the killer's point of view. If that's true, I believe it's because I've researched properly. It's certainly when I have the most fun! To construct a believable character, I metaphorically put on his or her hat and walk in their shoes. Creeps me out sometimes and has given me a nightmare or two, but realism and motivation are important to the story. And me.

No doubt, if the police ever took a peek at my hard drive, I'd be hauled in for questioning. Because of today's technology, information and insight into the killer's mind is there for the taking. I've downloaded files from FBI profilers, medical reports, bought books from Amazon and studied the different patterns of these troubled minds. As I read, and maybe because they were the hardest to understand, I was drawn to the analyst's description of the sociopath. Their lack of conscience and inability to care or feel compassion for the victim's pain fit my killer's motivation perfectly.

Maybe it was naive to write to the FBI with a list of questions. Imagine my surprise the day my phone rang, and the caller identified himself as a Special Agent. He answered all my questions, gave me his cell number and of all thing...he thanked me. Assured me, the FBI appreciates being written about, and they love it when the author tells the real story of the Agency. Ultimately, I used his information in another story, but his response gave me the courage to park next to a Texas Sheriff's car and strike up a conversation with him. Once he decided I wasn't completely crazy, he was very helpful.

If you're looking for resources here are my favorites.

The Yahoo group CrimeSceneWriter. Here you'll find FBI agents, police officers, EMTs, firefighters, private investigators, forensic specialists, and more, all willing to answer questions.

D.P. Lyle, MD. His blog, www.writersforensicblog.wordpress.com is like going to the library.

Lee Lofland. His blog, The Graveyard Shift, www.leelofland.com/wordpress gives insight and examples of his past police experiences.

My ace-in-the-hole is a retired Navy SEAL who answers all my questions about things that go boom. He's a real life hero, who still doesn't know he is one.

When The Green Eyed Doll is released, (I don't have a date yet) by The Wild Rose Press - in their Crimson Rose line, my readers will make the final analysis. Did I bring my killer to life? Was he sinister and believable? If so, my research paid off.

Many thanks to Anna Kathryn for hosting me today!

Jerrie Alexander
www.jerriealexander.com

Saturday's Salacious Suggestions

BORDER HEAT

By Teri Thackston

Murderous drug runners, a wildfire in the Texas desert and the President's runaway daughter…Game Warden Shannon Walker didn't sign up for any of this. Add a sexy Secret Service Agent, unexpected betrayal and an escape into the desert, and the border becomes hotter than Shannon can handle. 

BUY IT NOW:

Barnes & Noble http://tinyurl.com/3m3th36
Amazon http://tinyurl.com/3qc6o2a
Smashwords http://tinyurl.com/3bphubz



Satruday's Salacious Suggestions

SHATTERED SOULS OF INNOCENCE

by Melissa Ohnoutka

** This is a SHORT STORY Teaser**

Hailey Devlin and Patrick Roark survived their nightmare in Faithful Deceptions. But what about all the others? Will putting a man behind bars for his crimes really stop any of the suffering? The demand is still there. Therefore the horrendous cycle just keeps on going. Can anyone really hope to stop this madness? ….One man is determined to try.


Shattered Souls of Innocence is a Short Story prequel to Target of Betrayal, which will be released later this Summer, 2011.

Buy it now at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

Vist Melissa's website.

Saturday's Salacious Suggestions

MONSTER SPRAY

by Meb Bryant



Five-year-old Becca Strong reported monsters lurking outside her bedroom window. Unfortunately, nobody believed her...until she actually killed one.

Buy it now at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

Saturday's Salacious Suggestions

Faithful Deciptions

by Melissa Ohnoutka

Where Love and Danger Collide

Money dictates the rules of this game and the victim could be anybody— regardless of sex, age, or race.


When high-end antiques dealer, Hailey Devlin, discovers her business partner's boyfriend has bankrupted their company, she sets out to expose the thief. Unknown to Hailey, her target is involved in a brutal trafficking ring where human lives are sold off to the highest bidder and she fits the next customer's order perfectly. She awakens to a world she can't remember. An alluring man claims to be her husband-a man who seems both to want and reject her. Is this amnesia or something much more sinister?


ICE Agent Patrick Roark jumped at the chance to put his training to the test on an elite human trafficking squad of Homeland Security. Undercover as the bodyguard to the ring leader, and key suspect in a murder case, proves more than he bargained for. Masterminding a clever deception, he's determined to keep the next victim safe—even if the high-stakes operation costs him everything-including his heart. Can they survive a killer's wrath? And if they do, will the lies be too damaging for their love to endure?

Buy it now: Electronical - Amazon, Barnes and Noble
Buy it now: Paperback - Amazon, Barnes and Noble

Visit Melissa at her website and blog.

Saturday's Salacious Suggestions

Crimson Snow

by Cheri Jetton

Teacher Sara Hansen witnesses a shooting and leaves Detroit to stay in her brother’s empty home on snowy Sugar Island, certain she’ll be safe in the remote location. Former homicide detective Daniel Leeds hears a shot and races from his cabin to the property next door, where he finds Sara bleeding in the snow. Though local police believe it’s a hunting accident, he’s not convinced. He allows Sara to recuperate in his cabin where he can protect her, but the arrangement soon begins to feel personal. Though they are drawn to each other, they know their lives are too different. His past has made him a virtual recluse, while Sara is compelled to help inner city youth.

When they’re apart, Daniel realizes the cops have made a critical mistake. He’s willing to lay down his life for her. But is it too late to save the woman he loves from a relentless killer?

Visit Cheri at www.cherijetton.com