7 Suspenseful Sentences
So all week long I’ve had this niggling feeling that I forgot something. Hat, gloves, mortgage payment. Something.
No! I forgot to post 7 suspenseful sentences in keeping with my participation in the newly-launched Suspenseful Seven Sentence Sunday.
So maybe I’ll ad lib and do Fufpenful Five Fentenfe Friday. Or something.
Here is the opening of my current work-in-progress, Law & Disorder:
In my considerable experience, drug dealers are more likely to die a violent death than get hit by a bus. So when I was summoned to Ernesto Chula’s party house on Long River shortly after 11:00 p.m. on a Saturday night, finding him with a hole in his chest the size of a Thanksgiving turkey was no surprise.
The cause of my anxiety was not the grisly murder, but the mountains of evidence that a party had been in progress when Ernesto met his untidy demise. That raised the practical certainty that his usual party guests would eventually be identified. Professional acquaintances of mine, you might say. People who shouldn’t have been anywhere near the place.
Law & Disorder is my second novel-length work, a first effort at a standard murder mystery/ crime drama in which the dead body appears on page one. (That’s the tip-off, you know – almost an axiom.) The “I” in this case is Martin Bishop, a homicide detective hanging onto his career and marriage by fingernails after the very public revelation of his sex addiction.
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