Page 45 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

But in all seriousness, it depends on the killer whether they want the body found or not. Oh well, fun fact for the day.

Now writing a Character like Joey, on the other hand... She's much less patient than I am. Forty-nine bodies have yet to be recovered. So much research and she still complains that the research doesn’t help but evidence or lack thereof speaks for themselves.

Characters honestly, they're impossible to please. I shake my head as another bloom finds its way into the basket. Sometimes I think my readers worry about me more than they should. Every book tour ends the same way. Someone raises their hand. Tilts their heads and asks...

"How do you come up with these things?"

I always laugh. They always laugh. Then... For just a second…Neither of us is entirely sure whether I was joking. That's my favourite part. The uncertainty. After all, the safest place for monsters has always been inside stories.

Hasn't it?

I reached toward another branch as movement caught the corner of my eye. To the house next door, the front door opened then there he was.

I sighed.

Detective Elias Reed stepped onto the porch; one hand wrapped around a steaming mug while the other absentmindedly rubbed the sleep from the back of his neck. His dark T-shirt clung to broad shoulders that looked as though they'd carried far more than moving boxes over the years. Faded jeans. Heavy work boots. Hair that clearly hadn't agreed with the idea of a comb yet.

Somehow...It suited him.

He stood there for a moment, letting the cool morning air wake him properly before taking a slow sip of coffee, Max, however, had no interest in peaceful mornings. The German Shepherd burst through the doorway like a furry missile, skidding across the porch before launching himself into the garden with all the grace of a runaway wardrobe.

A tennis ball bounced from his mouth. Once, twice then disappeared beneath a rose bush.

"Seriously?"

Elias sighed.

"I threw that yesterday."

Max barked once. Innocent. Entirely unconvincing.

"You know where it is."

Another bark.

"I can see you looking at it."

The shepherd shoved his nose beneath the rose bush before emerging triumphantly, tail swinging hard enough to water half the garden with morning dew.

"There we go."

Elias chuckled.

"Good boy."

That voice had absolutely no business sounding like that before seven in the morning. I blinked. Why did that sound so attractive? Gerald would have had a field day. Good thing he was still sulking inside. Max bounded back toward Elias, proudly presenting the slightly muddy tennis ball.

"You've murdered another one."

The dog sneezed.

"I suppose that's a confession."

Max leaned against his leg with the complete confidence of someone who knew he was incapable of doing anything wrong. Lucky. Very lucky. Elias crouched beside him, scratching behind one enormous ear.

"You're staying here today."

Max tilted his head.