Did you know I have a new short story available?
Did you also know it was free to read?
By clicking this link you can read it in its entirety: https://niume.com/pages/post/?postID=71399
If you don’t have the time to click on over here is the intro. This short story called “The Lot” is about a Christmas Tree lot that isn’t all that it is supposed to be. I know, I know, this is why I am not published traditionally, right? Probably, but I prefer to write stuff like this instead of the normal dreck you find everyday of the week. This short story will be a bonus on “A Zombie Christmas 2” when it releases later on in the year. Okay, here’s the start. Enjoy. Let me know what you think about it if you have the desire to do so.
Ernie Holsten sat in his office. It was hard for him to believe that Gavin was the main suspect in the murder investigation. He still refused to believe it even after they drained the swamp behind The Lot. They had found the missing cars of the people who had disappeared in the area over the last couple of months. It was almost certain proof that Gavin was behind it. Was it great proof? Was it a sentence of life in prison or even the death penalty kind of proof? Who knew? But they had found a lot of Gavin inside those cars. Hair and fingerprints turned out to be more than enough to serve a warrant for his arrest.
“We got him trapped,” One of the cops replied, pausing at the edge of the door.
Ernie looked up at him with haggard eyes, eyes that had thought they had seen it all until Gavin’s case fell at his feet. He pulled his lanky frame out the chair, adjusted his slacks and sport coat, and moved around his soft brown hair. He pulled his gun out of his desk, strapped it on, and then stood there a moment staring at the wall.
“Something wrong?” The cop asked, dressed in his uniform, young and virginal when it came to police work, new to the police force in this town.
“Ugh,” Ernie grumbled.
“You just seemed like you were ready to go and then you weren’t.”
“I still can’t believe its Gavin. He’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was always a good kid. He was a star athlete in high school, volunteered often, and he made one of the meanest and angriest batches of meatloaf you will ever eat.”
“He sounds like a decent guy.”
“He was until that Christmas tree lot showed up. Then he just got weird. He rarely left that place, rarely came to town, and when someone did try to see him he just ushered them away. It was so unlike him. He was just a nice guy who always had a hello waiting for you when he saw you on the street.”