Excerpt 2.5

      Did you enter the April 2007 Giveaway? And I looked up the rates to mail overseas, and they're not as bad as I thought. So enter away international readers ... if I have any in Canada, England, France, Germany, Australia or Mexico. I couldn't find rates for any other countries.
      And here is another excerpt from Murder by Dewey Decimal. I have no comment on it, other than to say that I wanted the reader to know that no one was safe.

Excerpt 2.5 from Murder by Dewey Decimal
Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.

      Lisa placed the phone on its cradle and then whooped with excitement. Everything had gone exactly right. As soon as she told him about the murders, Veit had hired her as a local correspondent, a stringer, for the Oklahoma Dispatch, and told her she would be paid by the word -- not a full-time reporting job, but a beginning. Then she had dictated the stories of the murders directly to him. He only had a few questions when she finished, and for every one he asked, she was ready with the answer. She could tell he was impressed. He wanted her to continue covering the murders and told her to fax any further stories to him. Did the office supply store downtown have a fax machine? She would have to check tomorrow. She wondered what they charged for a fax. Or maybe she could dip into her meager savings and purchase one. She had been saving for a computer.
      She had worried about Veit's reaction to her being in the story about Leonard's death. Instead, he had only said that her byline wouldn't be on it. The story had been short by necessity; the chief hadn't had much to say about it or Agatha's death either. The chief said that he would have more tomorrow.
      Before then, she needed to get another recorder. Didn't Bernard say the library--Bernard! She looked at her watch. Six-thirty. She'd have to hurry.
      Rushing up the stairs to her bedroom and bath, she nearly stepped on Obsidian who hissed and spat his displeasure. "Sorry, sweetie," she said, "But, you're in the way." A quick shower and a hurried dress selection later, she sat at her vanity, applying her "party paint" as her father used to say. All in all, it had been a roller coaster day, she thought, and she'd come out on top. A stringer was a long way from a reporting job, but she was one step closer. The doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock.
      Seven-fifteen. Bernard was early. Just her luck.
      She hadn't intended for him to see how messy her house was, but that's the way things go sometimes. She went to the door and opened it. "Sorry. I'm running late--"
      She had a blurred impression of a man in a ski mask, rushing toward her. He slammed against her. She fell on the stairs, her breath knocked out of her. His body landed on her. His hands grabbed her throat. She clawed at his face. He hit her on the side of the head. The room spun. She tried to kick out.
      He threw himself on her and his hands closed again. She couldn't get free, couldn't get a breath. Her hands fell away. Her vision tunneled. Far away, she heard someone shouting. And then the pressure on her throat was gone. Someone was shaking her, but she was drifting away. She closed her eyes and let go of everything. It was surprisingly easy.

End excerpt. Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.

      Hope your day went well. Talk to you tomorrow.