From "Fake Death".

Like most of my stuff, a title only becomes visible long after the writing is done, so for now this novel-in-progress is "Fake Death"



He turned away from his mirror and faced her. “How long have we been planning for this day?”

She hugged him and leaned in close. “Forever.”

“And here it is.”

“Like a memory.”

“I know what my mugshot would look like.”

She detached from him. “What do you mean?”

He pointed to his face. “Thirty-four years of fault lines converging like a target. This is what it’ll look like.”

She shook her head.

“No?”

“No, because there won’t be a mugshot.”

“Confidence, I envy that. You have a way with it, like a snake handler.”

She stared into his eyes. “Well, tomorrow at this time you’ll be dead. What good would a mugshot do?”


10 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

We know them, what they look like, how they dress, and what they say. They're stereotypical bad guys, often called criminals or perps. They could be serial killers, extortionists, rapists or drug deal

“But,” Sarah suggested, “don’t we need to find out what he wants to say? I mean, what if it’s about the money, that something’s wrong?” “No. In your demand you did not ask him to embellish. If you rec

“And I can add to that brief introduction,” Ian continued. “She’s a modern woman all the way through, gorgeous on the outside, mildly intellectual on the inside, annoyingly self-righteous at times, an

Erik Goddard