Home alone, the sound of breaking glass wrenched Maggie from her sleep. Fear in icy tendrils prickled the nape of her neck, yanking the wisps of hair and standing them on end. Perspiration beaded her forehead, the little runnels slipped down between her breasts, soaking the front of her nightgown.
A shot rang out in the darkness. It was a bold flash, and all at once blinding! Her ears were stunned to sudden silence. A scream tore from her throat. She waited in the hushed gloom that reclaimed the dark after the flash, her eyes again adjusting to the night.
Maggie crept through the doorway and into the hall. The smell of burnt gunpowder and blood filled the air and it was nauseating. Smoke clung to her like a shroud, its gray wisps still rising from the trembling.38.
Afraid of the dark but more afraid of turning on a light, she picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Nine-One-One, go ahead, please.”
“Help me … I’ve just shot an intruder. Please hurry ...”
There is no mystery on this journey to hell. You are witness to the crimes dealing out the death sentences... each justified by one of the seven deadly sins.
Enter a glamorous world controlled by one of San Francisco's ultra-wealthy socialites an
My Colorado Journal continues with the Pambling Roads collection of US state journals, helping readers spark their interest with historical trivia and tidbits about Colorado. It's an interactive journal designed to nurture creativity and self-motivat