Excerpt Page
"Murder So Convenient"
by: Eliza Lynn Taylor
Shawna McGreggor has a new best friend, Catherine Toliver. She’s left an abusive marriage of five years, and her estranged husband refuses to let her go. With Shawna’s help, she hopes to gain her independence. There is a serial killer stalking the convenience store clerks of Chicago. He can’t seem to get his hands on the red-headed clerk called Shawna, because she’s always with Catherine. When Catherine ends up dead, he’s infuriated that she’s the victim of a copycat. The police seem to be helpless to stop the killer. The store managers won’t cooperate and the FBI is dragging their feet. The lead detective on the case, Richard Collins, gets too involved when he becomes close friends with Shawna and Catherine. It leads to danger when he leads the killer right to Shawna. Can they catch Catherine’s murderer and get to Shawna before it’s too late?
Read an Excerpt Here!
WARNING!!
This book contains graphic language and content and is not suitable for young readers.
Parents advise your children!
From Chapter One
"Michael, stop!" Catherine Toliver cried. Too late, her husband struck her again. He usually stopped when she cried out, but not lately. Lately, the beatings had been worse and more frequent. Her once beautiful face was missing several teeth now. X-rays of her skull looked like a road map. Her arm had been broken twice from his twisting it furiously.
"You bitch! Don't tell me what to do!" Michael screamed. "I told you to have dinner hot and ready when I got home; not tough as a boot!"
"But you were an hour late, and you didn't call," she tried to explain.
"You should know by now how to keep it from ruining." He threw a bowl of steaming vegetables across the kitchen at her, scalding her with the hot mixture and broth, then flipped the platter of roast beef onto the floor, shattering the glazed ceramic dish, just as he had the bowl. He stomped off, grabbing his keys before slamming the door behind him. He left tire marks on the concrete driveway as he sped onto the pavement and away from the house.
Catherine cleaned up the mess and scrubbed the wall before he got home. She didn't want the ruins of their dinner laying around for him to use against her again. It wasn't until it was pristine that she went to the bathroom to clean herself. Her arm was badly burned and blistering. Her eye, almost swollen shut, was an ugly purple and black.
It would soon match the other one's yellow-green appearance. She'd lost another tooth, she'd discovered, when she washed the blood from her mouth. Her lip was split in three places, fewer than the last time. She shook her head in disbelief as she dressed the burns thinking herself to be crazy for putting up with his abuse.
Michael stood at the counter of the convenience store with a scowl on his face. Driving around for an hour had calmed him only slightly. He threw a microwavable sandwich onto the counter next to a bottle of pop.
"About time. You're slower than frozen molasses," he told the clerk.
"Sorry you had to wait, Sir," the red haired girl behind the counter said. "Is this all for you?" She smiled brightly, until he scowled at her and snorted.
He looked at her name tag. "Yes, Shawna. This is all. I don't want any damn lottery tickets or cigarettes. I don't want to scratch anything off or trade anything in for another one that will loose or win back the price of the ticket," he said curtly.
Shawna blinked in astonishment. Man was this guy a piece of work! She saw his hands when he handed her the money and saw the bruised knuckles. Must have been some fight, she thought.
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From Chapter One |
"Michael, stop!" Catherine Toliver cried. Too late, her husband struck her again. He usually stopped when she cried out, but not lately. Lately, the beatings had been worse and more frequent. Her once beautiful face was missing several teeth now. X-rays of her skull looked like a road map. Her arm had been broken twice from his twisting it furiously. "You bitch! Don't tell me what to do!" Michael screamed. "I told you to have dinner hot and ready when I got home; not tough as a boot!" "But you were an hour late, and you didn't call," she tried to explain. "You should know by now how to keep it from ruining." He threw a bowl of steaming vegetables across the kitchen at her, scalding her with the hot mixture and broth, then flipped the platter of roast beef onto the floor, shattering the glazed ceramic dish, just as he had the bowl. He stomped off, grabbing his keys before slamming the door behind him. He left tire marks on the concrete driveway as he sped onto the pavement and away from the house. Catherine cleaned up the mess and scrubbed the wall before he got home. She didn't want the ruins of their dinner laying around for him to use against her again. It wasn't until it was pristine that she went to the bathroom to clean herself. Her arm was badly burned and blistering. Her eye, almost swollen shut, was an ugly purple and black. It would soon match the other one's yellow-green appearance. She'd lost another tooth, she'd discovered, when she washed the blood from her mouth. Her lip was split in three places, fewer than the last time. She shook her head in disbelief as she dressed the burns thinking herself to be crazy for putting up with his abuse. Michael stood at the counter of the convenience store with a scowl on his face. Driving around for an hour had calmed him only slightly. He threw a microwavable sandwich onto the counter next to a bottle of pop. "About time. You're slower than frozen molasses," he told the clerk. "Sorry you had to wait, Sir," the red haired girl behind the counter said. "Is this all for you?" She smiled brightly, until he scowled at her and snorted. He looked at her name tag. "Yes, Shawna. This is all. I don't want any damn lottery tickets or cigarettes. I don't want to scratch anything off or trade anything in for another one that will loose or win back the price of the ticket," he said curtly. Shawna blinked in astonishment. Man was this guy a piece of work! She saw his hands when he handed her the money and saw the bruised knuckles. Must have been some fight, she thought. ************************** |
