Josh Aterovis
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Everything posted by Josh Aterovis
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I blinked and White Deer was gone. I was still sitting there, stunned and trying to figure out my next move when I heard someone crashing through the underbrush. I threw myself back down to the ground. Was there another conspirator? I was incredibly relieved to see Jacy explode into the clearing, his face a mask of dread. "Killian?" he shouted. "Over here," I called. Jacy rushed to my side. "Holy shit! Are you okay? I heard a gunshot." "Yeah, I think so. I might hav
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I'm rooting for a weinershifter saga.
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My aunt had one when I was very little. I was over there a lot because I was close to my (girl) cousins, and we'd dress him up in doll clothes and parade him around in a little doll pram. We also dressed up their orange cat who was strangely tolerant of such things. We got up to all kinds of shenanigans. In the days before Caller ID, we also made a lot of prank phone calls.
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I an absolutely enamored with the idea of a dachshund shifter....
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Yes, many of you came VERY close to guessing the killer(s) a few times. Glad the red herrings were able to keep you guessing right up to the end. 🤣 And yes...there's still more to uncover so get to guessing! Two more chapters to go...
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Several hours later, I was deeply regretting my resolve to follow through with the stakeout. I was feeling worse than ever, and my lack of sleep was catching up to me with a vengeance. My eyes felt so heavy that it was a supreme battle to keep them open. I was definitely losing the fight. I sat up straighter and drew in a deep breath, hoping the cool air would revive me, but I was beyond help. I stared into the darkness for a few minutes before my eyelids began to droop once again. The effo
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Nah. Quiet night.
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I have two more books in the hopper. The next book is called Breaking Masks, a romcom spinoff that follows Jake as he goes off to college. There might be a slight delay before I start posting on that. It was a collaboration with Dabeagle and we're currently in the process of doing a major rewrite. After that, the last book currently written is a full Killian mystery called A Kind of Death.
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Only a few more chapters!
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On my way back to the office, I remembered my appointment with Professor Howard. I glanced at my watch and saw I had just enough time to stop and pick up the blade. Although I was cutting it close, I managed to make it to her house only a few minutes late. She graciously welcomed me in without mentioning my tardiness, offering me a drink as I followed her into the living room. After I declined, we settled into the same seats we'd taken the last time. For a moment, I experienced a stran
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One of the most striking things that has stood out to me as I've been revisiting and updating these Killian Kendall books is how depressingly little true, solid progress we've made in the last 25 years. It seemed like there were some huge steps forward for a while, but the pendulum has since swung very far to the right and some days (many days lately) it feels like we are regressing so rapidly in the wrong direction that we'll soon be back in the stone age. BUT! I do believe that the pendulum will do what pendulums do and we'll eventually correct course, but that isn't to say that many, many people won't be hurt (or worse) in the meantime and it will take decades to undo the damage. But we have to keep hope. We must.
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My mostly sleepless night was beginning to catch up with me. The only thing I wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed with a good book. Unfortunately, I knew I needed to return to the office and write up my notes. By the time I got there, Novak had already left for the day, so I had the place to myself. Ignoring the blinking message light on the desk phone, I sat down at my desk and started recording my conversation with Ricky. I was just about to leave when my cell phone buzzed. It was
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Kyle hated when the paparazzi showed up at the nudist hiking retreat.
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I would never besmirch the name of our gay goddess (and as far as I'm concerned, the one and only) Kylie....
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Looks like things are getting...hairy...in the comments section.
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I parked my car in front of the antique store and looked over at Jacy. "Are you ready?" "As I'll ever be. What about you? Is the camera running yet?" I clicked on the camera pen I'd inserted into the neck of my polo shirt. "It is now. I feel like James Bond." Jacy laughed. "That thing is so cool. This detective stuff is a lot more fun than I thought." "It has its moments," I said with a grin. "We've got our story straight, right?" "Yep. I'm starting a collection, and I w
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Fun fact: I used to co-manage a burlesque company. We did scripted shows (think ridiculous time-traveling farces) and variety shows. I mostly hosted, but occasionally performed. My stage name was Jules V. Morehead, and my catchphrase was "What's better than head? Morehead!"
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I sat frozen in fear, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't even dare to breathe, not wanting to do anything to draw the person's attention. I watched him move cautiously into the clearing. Something about the way he moved suddenly seemed familiar. "Pssst, Killian? Are you still here?" Recognition hit me all at once, followed by a flood of relief. It was Jacy. But what was he doing at the excavation? A sudden, horrible thought occurred to me. What if the police were ri
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The commenting system here is occasionally...challenging.
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I arrived at Professor Howard's at ten sharp the following morning. She lived in a relatively new development just outside of town, one of those planned communities with a pretentious-sounding name and huge homes set on generous lots. This one was ironically named Blue Heron Heights, despite the fact that there were no herons — or even a body of water — in sight. The lack of mature trees made the yards look oddly flat and empty despite the oversize houses. The professor's home, an attractiv
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They take care of themselves...but they do spawn when you're not watching...
