I won't preface this with yet another meandering "sorry I haven't been regular...etc." Without belabouring, I expect the "sporadic" to be the norm for a little while until things completely settle down around my recent relocation.
How've you all been??? Hope the holidays (whatever your chosen celebration/non-celebration) gave everyone the chance to spend some great time with friends and family.
Now, should the taste of gingerbread be currently making the annual transition from "wholesome" to "cloying" and the rum-spiked eggnog be nothing more than a faint and sickening coating on your teeth, then allow me to provide a little entertainment that is a little less sweet, and a little more Old Nick than St. Nick.
This piece was first published over at Thrillers, Killers n' Chillers, and it's a favourite. Thanks to Matt, Col, Lily and David for giving this little tale a home on a cold and wintry day back in 2010.
All the best once again, and looking forward to reading amazing work from all of you in 2013!
Fitch watched the apartment across the street, and ground his teeth. This job was completely beneath him. Still, an order was an order, and the sap would be getting home soon.
He’d raised his objections to Gerard, when he’d been given the plain yellow envelope detailing this worthless waste-of-time hit. “I’m a specialist Gerry. Why is he still sending me out on this low level garbage? I can hit a moving target with a sniper rifle from three blocks away and I can put an explosive in a pack of gum that will do the job. So why am I expected to barge into yet another defenseless idiot’s apartment and put two in his head, like I was fresh meat? Huh?”