Taste of Kiwi: Blog of Author Shelley Munro

This week’s theme is scary, and I’ve picked a scene from my romantic suspense/mystery The Shadow.

The Shadow by Shelley Munro

A low growl was all the warning I received. I froze. Another growl made the hairs at the back of my neck stand and salute. Hell! A freaking dog. My heart thundered as I slowly turned.

The dog stood a few feet from me. Black. All teeth and fangs. Damn and blast. The damned thing hadn’t been here the three times I’d checked out the premises. And if the dog had a kennel, I hadn’t seen it. With slow, careful movements, I eased the pack from my back and fumbled with the zip. My hand closed around the doctored cheeseburger, and I let it fall to the ground at my feet. The dog sniffed the burger. It woofed the treat down in two bites before staring fixedly, perhaps debating if I were the second course. It growled. Father had assured me the sleeping pills would do the trick without hurting the dog. I hoped he knew what he was talking about. No sooner had the thought passed my mind then the dog swayed.

I bolted. The dog gave a feral growl and sprang. Fabric ripped. My steps faltered. For an instant, I panicked, but suddenly the dog let go. Without looking back, I sprinted to the back of the house, my legs pumping like a hundred-meter sprinter at the Olympic Games. I scampered up the sturdy vine I’d chosen and only then looked back, my chest burning for air. The dog lay still on the ground. I turned to survey the rip in my leggings and shifted uneasily. My backside smarted like the devil.

Smooth as silk.

Huh? Emily had read someone else’s cards, not mine.

I scaled the wall in no time at all, stubbornly ignoring the pain in my ass, and after pulling on a pair of gloves, entered the building via the nursery room window. Lucky for me the nursery was empty of all save the lingering scent of lemon furniture polish. I crept down to the next floor, but that’s when luck deserted me again.

A footfall sounded.

I froze, my heart hammering with alarm. There was someone at home. Laughter-both male and female. Had the husband returned? Why were they there with the lights off? Duh! Stupid question. It was obvious why the room was dark. Abort my mission or risk it? As I hesitated on the landing, I heard footsteps on the stairs. The front door opened.

“Darling, tomorrow night?” the man asked.

“Yes. James isn’t back until Friday,” Perdita replied.

Kissing followed-loud enough to make me roll my eyes. After what seemed like ages, the door shut again and soft footsteps sounded on the stairs.

What the hell was I going to do now? I thought about hitting her over the head, snatching the jewels and running. I mean, she was fooling around; she deserved everything that was coming. I considered the idea a bit longer and rejected it as stupid. A girl had to have some scruples. Physical violence was one of mine.

Before I’d made a decision, I heard the front door open again. Jeez! The place was like Paddington Station at rush hour. I hunkered down in my hiding place on the landing and waited to see what developed.

Stealthy footsteps padded up the stairs toward the bedroom where Perdita had entertained her lover. Surely not another one?

“What do you want?” I heard Perdita demand.

I crept from my dark corner but couldn’t see a damned thing. What now? I wondered in frustration. Did I try to get closer?

A scream. A gunshot. I heard the sound of a rapid retreat. The front door slammed, then there was silence. No more laughter. Not a single bloody sound. I hovered indecisively. Dithered, really. When everything remained silent, I cautiously crept toward Perdita’s bedroom.

When I was a few feet from the doorway, a cuckoo burst from its clock, nearly giving me a coronary. I leapt in fright but managed to hold back on the accompanying squeak. After my heart settled back in place, I slunk closer to the bedroom.

A little moonlight seeped in from outside, but I didn’t need illumination to tell something was badly wrong. I could smell it. An indescribable scent, layered with expensive perfume and sex, that I didn’t want to smell again in a hurry.

“Hello?” I whispered. It was no surprise to me that I sounded shit-scared. And not much of a surprise when no one answered. I fumbled for the light switch, not because I wanted to but because I had to know.

Blood.

Everywhere. It really stood out on the white satin sheets. I swallowed when I observed the very dead woman sprawled on the king-sized bed, and then gulped again when my stomach threatened to revolt. It was Perdita Moning, all right.

Strangled laughter sounded, and I was a bit surprised when I realized the sound came from me. Slightly hysterical. A little crazed. But hell, not every day a girl witnesses a murder.

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To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
TJ Michaels
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Lauren Dane
Mari Carr
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace

When my husband and I traveled through India, we went with a group. Much like the characters in my new release Wanderlust, we traveled in a truck, both camping and staying in hotels during our circuit of India. At the beginning of the trip we decided we’d play a game that’s all about murder. Here’s how it works:

Everyone receives a slip of paper, one of which bears the word “murderer”. Once the murderer is picked he or she quietly tells one member of the group they are murdered and how they must die. That particular person must pretend to die in the chosen manner and then he or she is out of the game. The murderer chooses his next victim and waits for them to die before choosing another. The object of the game is for the person acting as the murderer to kill off everyone before someone in the group discovers his “or” her identity.

One person acts as the judge. All players can take one guess at the murderer’s identity. If they make an incorrect guess, they are out of the game.

Here’s a little real life drama from when we played the murder game during our trip to India. My husband was in charge of lighting campfires each night, and the murderer suggested he died very realistically with fire. He scared me half to death. I was so angry and upset I refused to play the game any longer. I also didn’t talk to my husband for a few hours. Mr. Munro won the prize for the best death, and we still have his small plastic Oscar trophy. It’s bright orange – for those who’d like to picture it.

In Wanderlust, the passengers play the murder game. Anna, the tour leader isn’t very amused with her passengers when they pretend to die. And when her passengers start dying for real, she’s not impressed with the game at all!

I’m guest blogging over at Jenyfer Matthew’s blog today. The excerpt over at Jenyfer’s site shows the first death in the murder game. Everyone who comments on Jenyfer’s blog goes into a draw to win a download of Playing to Win. What are you waiting for – hop over and say hello.

Wanderlust is out today from Cerridwen Press. It’s a contemporary romantic suspense set in India. Since I’ve already covered the travel through India angle of my new release, today I thought I’d talk about murder and intrigue.

1. The first murder in Wanderlust happens before the book starts. It takes place in Aleppo, Syria in a crowded market place. When we visited there were lots of narrow roads, running through a confined space. People shared with donkeys, camels, and noisy motorbikes. With all the pushing and shoving I could imagine a motorbike colliding with a person. The first death appears to be a hit and run. It’s not…

2. The most common cause of death in the USA is heart attack followed by cancer.

3. The current medical-legal definition of death: Death has occurred when all cerebral function has ceased and is irreversible.

4. I’m not afraid to die. I just don’t want to be there when it happens. ~ Woody Allen

5. Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me. ~ Emily Dickinson

6. A smell of a patient’s breath or body may help identify toxins or other medical conditions. e.g. Ammonia – Uremia (kidney failure), Violets – turpentine, almonds or bitter – cyanide.

7. The law requires a physician or the coroner or medical examiner to certify the cause of death. When a person is declared dead, the exact time must be recorded for legal purposes. The term “time of death” refers to the legal time of death, and is the moment that a professional person first sees the body and declares it to be dead.

8. If a body is warm, the person has been dead less than three hours; if cool to the touch, between four to six hours; and if cold and clammy, eighteen to twenty-four hours. Loss of warmth varies with environmental temperature, but averages a drop of 1 1/2 degrees per hour.

9. One of the characters in Wanderlust is found in a lake. Suicide by drowning is rather uncommon, and it is very difficult to prove without other circumstances (suicide note). Death in the bathtub is frequently suicide. Often the person is under the influence of drugs or alcohol at the time of death.

10. Food poisoning is still a common killer around the world, involving everything from botulism, to mushrooms, to puffer fish in Japan. Something to ponder when reading Wanderlust…

11. Falling – there are two ways to fall: a vertical “controlled” fall, with the person landing upright and feet-first; and an “uncontrolled” fall, with some other part of the body hitting first, such as landing on your head, back, stomach, etc. the important thing to remember is that you can “kill” one of your characters by having them fall short distances, or survive falls from great heights if your plot calls for it. Just saying…

12. What are your chances?

Your chances of dying by a terrorist’s hand if you travel overseas 1 in 650,000
Your chances of dying from skiing 1 in 500,000
Your chances of dying from rock climbing 1 in 5,000
Your chances of dying from parachuting 1 in 4,000

On the news yesterday I heard a teenager had recalculated the chances of a huge meteor hitting Earth 1 in 450. I’m sure I heard that right. Evidently it’s more possible than they initially thought.

13. A link to the Australian museum online – for all things about death.

14. – a bonus for the ghoulish amongst you – The Death clock. Plug in the information to calculate the day. I just couldn’t bring myself to do this.

Sources: Cause of Death, a writer’s guide to death, murder & forensic medicine by Keith D Wilson.