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A Writer's Touch
A female serial killer is on the loose in Hudson County,
and preying of officers from the Precinct 9 Constable's
Office. An apparent master of disguise, she lures them
to a motel room where she kills them with their own guns.
Detective Blake, thought by many to be a rebel, rogue,
and lone wolf, becomes involved when her first victim is his
Get a glimpse into the mind of a ruthless killer.
Follow along as the Lone Wolf searches for justice.
Her eyes narrowed as they searched through the smoky haze. She smiled - yes - he was there again, as he was so many nights. She'd stalked him for weeks, watched him intently, payed close attention to his habits. Like a hungry tigress she'd waited for her prey to come to the watering hole; she waited patiently, quietly, never drawing attention to herself. But her hunger was high tonight, her need demanding, and her prey was in sight. He was an attractive man with graying hair and a strong body, but it was the gun he had strapped to his hip that enticed her. It was the gun that gave them that touch of power, and lent the atmosphere of danger to her game. Oh, how she'd learned to love the game, and tonight - tonight she would push it to the edge - and over. He was ripe for the picking. She'd been counting his beers; he'd just finished his sixth and last. He rose on unsteady legs, tossed several bills onto the small table, then lit a cigarette as he started for the door.
She intercepted him in front of the jukebox, "How about a dance?" She asked.
He smiled, whirled her around to the music a few times, then stopped, "Sorry. I've had too much to drink. It's time for me to head home."
Her hands were damp with an anxious sweat; they trembled slightly with anticipation, coupled with a good dose of fear. Unsure of herself, but unwilling to let him get away, she followed him out to the shadowy parking lot. After tonight, there would be no turning back, no stopping.