I totally spaced on Sample Sunday yesterday, so I’m offering up a sample of A Blade Away. This book is the first in the Fringe Killer series and will be on sale within the next couple of weeks. The sale prices is $0.99, which a real bargain considering the amount of entertainment you get. And believe me, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry — it’s better than Cats!
Outside of Club Connect, reality brought a wind whipping through his clothing like angry termites. The memory washed away and left him seeking purchase on the outside wall of the club. He was covered in sweat and had a new sense of urgency. The young whore was gone. He must have managed to pull himself into the safety of the darkness.
Tye was obviously taking her own sweet time in coming out, her tardiness only serving to fuel his anger and lack of patience. He lit a cigarette. He hated the taste and the very fact that he had to draw the bitter smoke into his lungs just to keep himself alive sometimes. It was one of the only nasty habits he had gotten from his father. “You never know when you’ll need the lit end of a butt to use as positive reinforcement,” his father used to say. The smoke burned its way into his lungs, and the smell reminded him of his childhood, which in turn reminded him of his purpose.
The stage door opened, and the distinctive sounds of queens poured out. Three of the girls emerged, one of them Tye Siam! They all passed by without so much as a look. He took a deep drag on the fag in his mouth and started after them.
“Tye! Excuse me…”
All three girls stopped and turned. They were all wearing men’s clothing and looked nothing like their stage personae.
“Do I know you? You look very familiar. Aren’t you a doctor? That’s right, I remember now. I think you might want to go away before I call the cops. The police in this town won’t take kindly to you associating with my type.” The fellow queens giggled their stereotypical glass-gargling laughs, and they all turned around and continued to walk forward.
“Tye, may I have a word with you?” His voice gave way to a tinge of nervousness.
Tye didn’t even turn his head; he just lifted a flailing hand. “You’ve already had like seven or eight words, so let’s just call it a night.” Tye’s tone was light-hearted, a tone lost in the space between doctor and patient. If the queen only knew exactly who, and what, he was dealing with.
He dropped back a bit to see what the queens were going to do. They continued down the street to a well-lit parking lot. He kept enough distance so that no one would suspect anything.
Once they reached the parking lot, the three split up into separate cars. Tye walked to an old Impala, reached into his bag for his keys, and opened the door. The car was a dull pea-green color, which would be very easy to follow. His feet picked up their pace as they transported him to his own car. Fortunately, his car was parked very near this spot, so he didn’t lose sight of the Impala for a second. He leapt in his car, turned the ignition over and sped in the direction the Impala had gone.
“You’re all mine, now…” his voice trailed off and was replaced by a violent inhalation of air. The powerful man could taste salvation on the tip of his tongue. The transformation of Siam would bring him the peace his first patient, a miserable failure, hadn’t brought him. He pushed play on the CD player, and a violent goth-metal rendition of the Police’s Roxanne came pouring out. It was his love potion number nine tonight.
His voice was metallic and harsh. He knew he’d never have the voice he wanted, a voice soft and feminine. “…You don’t have to put on the red light. Those days are over. You don’t have to sell your body to the night…” There was a certain prophesy to the song that he liked. The song assured him he was doing the right thing. “You don’t have to wear that dress tonight…” He sang along, his heart racing faster with each screeching chord, the song reaching an emotional place, spurring him on.