Dear Readers

Fear not the Darkness, But What Lies Within, The recesses of our mind, The creepy cobwebbed corners,That lingers on and tickles us,With tingle feelings of alarm, The deep in the stomach, Pain we feel when we do warn, The fear is deadly it seeks, The deepest corner of our mind, It's just a story to alarm,Educate and provide entertainment for our minds. So read on dear reader, I hope you find the stories amusing and full of charm.






Saturday, January 9, 2016

Excerpt from A Penny Saved a Murder Earned

Excerpt from A Penny Saved a Murder Earned available in kindle and paperback 


Chapter 1  - Bloody Shoes


“A penny saved is a penny earned” ~ Benjamin Franklin
The blood streaked across the floor, but he had carefully sidestepped it. Stupid bitch! She got what she deserved. How dare she defile his Angel’s property? He hadn’t left a trace...had he? No, he was too clever by half.

 “I didn’t spot you entering. Working late? You have an early opening tomorrow.” A voice he didn’t recognize interrupted his thoughts.

“Wait a minute, you aren’t the lady. Who are you? You shouldn’t be here,” the man continued clearly alarmed.

“You shouldn’t be here either,” the murderer insisted.

“You killed Megan. I’m telling.”

“This was something you shouldn’t be allowed to see.”

“I’m leaving. I didn’t notice anything,” the man lied, witnessing the blood.

“I’m sorry pal. Wrong place, wrong time!” the killer answered.

The homeless man ran dodging racks, finally deciding to hide behind some shelving. The killer ran after him, puzzled for a moment because he could see no trace of the homeless person. The murderer then laughed, as he realized how foolish the vagrant was being, his stench gave him away. He subdued the man with a Taser gun. Waiting seconds he then pulled him from his hiding place. Taking ties from within his pocket; he fastened the man’s arms and feet. Satisfied that the homeless person was now trussed up like a turkey, he smiled.

 “Please! I don’t want to die!” the man cried, visibly sweating and starting to shake.


The man tried to kick out his legs and arms but failed, “You’ve heard about fate? Well sorry but this is your fate, buddy!” the murderer explained.

“Please! Couldn’t you let me go? I won’t tell! I’ll move to another city. Besides who would listen to a homeless man?”

“Someone would. My Angel would.”

The homeless man then smiled as if to gain trust from this killer, “You won’t hurt the lady who owns the store, will you?” he asked.

“I would never harm my Angel. How dare you?” the killer responded outraged.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to insult you! Please just let me go....”

“What is your name?”

“My name is Al.”

The killer put his gloves back on and smoothed them and then turned his back on his victim.

“You’re going to kill me now. Aren’t you? Just don’t harm the sweet lady who owns this store. Will it hurt?” the man asked resigned.

“I would never hurt my Angel. She is sweet isn’t she? Unfortunately that makes unscrupulous people take advantage of her.”

“I promise I would never take advantage of her kindness.”

“I know you wouldn’t and it hurts me to do this. Tell you what though, I’ll make your death painless because I like you, Al,” the killer offered, feeling suddenly sorry for the man. Then he checked himself.

 Living on the streets was hell; maybe he was doing the guy a favour? Yes, of course he was. Taking a pill bottle out of his pocket and opening the dispenser, he placed some in a coffee cup he took from the sideboard.
Then he filled the cup with the tepid coffee from the coffee pot, stirring the pills in rapidly.

 “Please couldn’t you let me go? I won’t tell and I’ll watch over her when you’re not here.”

“Sorry, times up, Al. Here now, drink this coffee,” the assassin commanded placing the mug at Al’s lips.

 Al tried not to drink and spit some of the coffee out, but the assassin plugged his nose and the cup was soon empty.

 “Admit it Al, you had a crappy life. Just give in and go to the light. I hear good things wait there for people like you,” the killer stated.

Al tried to fight some more, but he soon found it was losing battle. Al’s breathing slowed as he slipped into a deep sleep and stopped breathing altogether. His age and living on the streets made the pills work fast.



Now what to do with the body? The killer thought. His Angel must not find this man here, bad enough he left Megan’s body here for his Angel to find. This man knew his Angel; she cared, so like her to look after the homeless. The dumpster of course! The day after tomorrow was garbage day. Covered in garbage no one would find Al.

©Sheilagh Lee January 9, 2016

Read more of this book by  purchasing at Amazon  Available at amzn.to/VuO44B



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