A THRILLING READ – GENIUS

THE GREATEST CRIME WRITER OF THE DECADE

Leaning back from the desk, Vincent Crow chuckled at the photos of himself, grinning down from beneath the various headlines of tabloids competing for an exclusive interview.

Too late for that now, I like a bit of privacy…

You could call him a recluse I suppose, but his publishers didn’t need him to be a social butterfly – they needed him to write books.

Of course, it helps to have a bit of a reputation. Everybody knew Vincent was scared of the dark. Gave him that ‘human factor’ his agent said. His wife died young, his book jacket’s insisted on telling people.

And he always hand-drafted his novels, with red ink and a quill. ‘Just my way of doing things’, he’d tell his impatient publishing company.

They were piling on the pressure at the minute, as it happened.

No time for reminiscing!

Dipping his quill into the still-dripping chest cavity of his latest victim, Vincent soaked the nib in his favorite ink and began to write.