OK-so I’m trying to make my blog more fun and interesting for people who love to read–especially those who love to read mystery and suspense novels. LIke my tagline says, I write…stories of faith mingled with murder & mayhem. So, here’s my first experiment. Just as in the golden days of radio, I’m going to share a story with my readers for FREE!.  One chapter at a time! How many chapters will it be? I have no idea.

It’s a new story and it’s not finished yet.  I’m what other writers call a seat of the pants writer. That means I don’t plot my story ahead of time. So, you’ll be reading the story as I write it.

Only one catch–if I don’t know people want to read the next installment, then there won’t be a next installment. So, if you want to read more of the story, be sure to leave a comment. What sort of comments? Whatever you want as long as it’s about the story! Let me know what you think of the characters, the story plot, or whatever you want.

 

CHRYSALIS

chrysalis…a pupa of a butterfly or a moth; a protecting covering; a sheltered state or stage of being or growth; usually enclosed in a cocoon or protective covering as it undergoes internal changes to become an adult—also known as metamorphosis.

That was a lot of pressure for one person to bear. She supposed her mother meant good when she’d named her Chrysalis. She’d meant it to be symbolic, of course. Her mother had never grown out of the infancy stage, but she wanted her daughter to undergo the transformation from worm to butterfly.

Sorry, Momma. Not happening—at least not yet.

Chryssie closed the dictionary.

Time to go to work.

Time for a metamorphosis of another type.

She slipped on the low-cut T-shirt. It made for better tips. Then came her jeans, tight but comfortable. She moved to the bathroom mirror, took off her glasses, and put in her contacts. First came the outrageous eyeshadow, complete with glitter. Then the bright red lipstick.

And finally to make the change complete, she tied her soft brown hair in a ponytail and pinned it up. She slipped on the jet black Elvira wig.

She supposed a good friend might recognize her but since she had none, it wasn’t a worry.

She walked through her one room apartment.

Apartment. An exaggeration, but it was affordable. That’s what counted. As always, she picked up the picture of the adorable four-year-old girl, kissed it, and whispered, “Good-night, my love. Pleasant dreams tonight and always.”

***

The music blared while a few patrons still gyrated on the dance floor. It had been a busy night, just the way she liked it. Time went faster and more money. She glanced toward her tip jar. Almost full and she’d emptied it earlier.

She smiled in spite of the ache in her feet. At least, she’d be able to pay the rent on time this month. With any luck, it would be the last month in the dump.

A tall tough looking guy walked into the bar.

She smiled and waved. “Hey Marv, is it that time already?” She glanced up at the clock.

Marv walked over to the bar. The man was a walking canvas for his tattoo art. A snake crawled up his left arm to his neck and around the back of his head. An American flag adorned the top of his right arm with a military tattoo of some sort below it. Then came the obligatory MOM. His forearm had a beautiful rendition of a cross. Not in sight at the moment, she knew his back and chest were covered as well. He’d shown her them once when it was a slow night at the bar.

“Last call.” Chryssie yelled over the blaring of the music. No one reacted. Her feet throbbed as she walked over to the sound system. Moans all around when the explosive music turned to silence.

She turned toward the customers with a tired smile. “Last call. Ten minutes and I’m locking y’all up in here.”

More moans.

“Oh, come on. Give us a break, sweetheart. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“It’s Saturday night.”

“Now it’s eight minutes and counting down.”

“You’re a tough one,” Marv laughed as he sat down on the bar stool. “Got any customers for me tonight, Chryssie?”

“Still at it, huh? Don’t you ever get tired of dealing with these drunks?”

“What about you? You’r e here more often than me.”

“Yeah, but I get paid for it. You don’t.”

“Just my little way of paying it forward.”

She pointed at one man sitting at the end of the bar. “He’s the only one tonight.” Reaching under the bar, she fished around and held up a set of keys.

Marv exchanged the keys for a business card. “Come to church on Sunday if you want. And don’t forget we have a free meal every day at noon, even Sunday.”

She pushed the card back toward him. “We’ve had this discussion before. I don’t do church.”

He patted her arm. “Used to be the same way until Jesus saved my life.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve heard all that before. Jesus saves you and then you go to heaven.”

“That’s true, but that’s not what I mean. Jesus literally saved my life.”

“Do tell.”

Marv shrugged and the snake appeared to be slithering around his neck. “I promise to tell you the whole story when you come to church or the meal.”

She put a hand on her hip. “Is that a blackmail attempt, Marv?”

“Me?” He touched his burly chest with his finger. “I would never do such a thing. Hope to see you Sunday.” He walked over to the man at the end of the bar. “How about a free ride home, buddy?”

After Chryssie locked up, she walked down the dark alley.  She shivered—not from the cold. It was close to seventy degrees out. Why couldn’t her boss let the closers park in their lot? It wasn’t safe.

She quickened her pace.

“I’m not happy about this meeting?”

“Yea, man. I got it. But you want a favor from me so you got to pay me.”

Her feet slowed down. The two men hadn’t seen her yet—and she wanted it to stay that way.  She pressed against the wall. She’d have to wait until the men finished their business.

“I already paid you.”

“Yeah, man, but that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I knowed who wanted the favor, man.”

Her pulse raced and she was afraid to breathe. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t something she wanted to be part of. She pressed against the old brick wall, trying not to breathe in the fumes from the nearby dumpster.

“Knew. Knowed isn’t a word. You won’t get very far in this world if you don’t have a basic knowledge of English.”

“Whatever. It was just a mistake. I knew the right word.”

“Well, that makes two mistakes you’ve made today.”

“Two?”

“Yeah, the other mistake was trying to cheat me. We had a deal.”

A pause.

“Hey, man. You don’t need the gun. You don’t want to pay me anymore, fine by me. Not a problem. I’ll still do the…job. ”

Gun. A chill traveled the length of her spine. Every nerve screamed at her to run back to the bar, but her feet were frozen.

“Sorry, I don’t believe in second chances.”

Pop.

A moan.

He’d shot the guy. She just knew it. Be quiet. Let him leave and then she’d help him.

Pop. Pop.

Or not.

Footsteps.

A moment later, a shadow loomed large, and then he was in front of her. His eyes grew wide as their gazes locked. His arm moved upwards.

The gun.

Well that’s part one–what did you think of it? Want to read more? And yes, i admit it. I hope the story piques your interest enough to check out my other books.  You can visit my website at www.lillianduncan.net or checkout the online bookstores, such as www.amazon.com or www.BN.com

Thanks, let me know if you want to read the next part of the story. Remember no comments–no second part of the story!

Until next time….God Bless & Good Reading!