TeD DeKker - Suspense Magazine

May 2010

Very Different Authors with a Common Ground Could They Scare You? Donald Allen Kirch Ingrid Dean Tom Hinshelwood

and

Ted Dekker

PACE:

10 Surefire Ways to Keep the Pages Turning with Andrew Gross

E T A F F O HAND

e . r . . e k h c w e y h r c t y pa us a s n a e m in an indo ion your pin

y a s u o y s d r t o s a w L e r h u t o y e B d ouL c

When the host of a popular radio talk show is murdered, the suspects almost outnumber his millions of listeners. Outspoken radio talk show host Jim Fate dies tragically when poisonous gas fills the studio while his polarizing show, “The Hand of Fate,” is on air. In the ensuing panic, police evacuate downtown Portland – and the triple threat of FBI Special Agent Nicole Hedges, crime reporter Cassidy Shaw and Federal Prosecutor Allison Pierce begin piecing together the madness, motive, and the mystery of what just happened. And this time it’s personal since one of the women was secretly dating the host and has access to his home . . . as well as possible evidence. In the following days following Fate’s murder, these three colleagues and friends must confront a betrayal within the team while unearthing the not-so-public life of Jim Fate. Together, they must uncover the stunning truth of who killed him, how close the killer really is, and the twisted motive for this cold-blooded murder.

Available Now

www.LisWiehlBooks.com www.AprilHenryMysteries.com

From the Editor Letter from the Editor: Credits John Raab President & Chairman Matt McElreath Executive Vice President, Marketing Amanda Goossen Editor-In-Chief

Contributors Starr Gardinier Reina Terri Ann Armstrong Claudia Vargas Tiffany Colter Chelsea K. Baxter

Artists:

Ana Cruz

www.anacruzarts.com Customer Service and Subscriptions:

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True Crime has taken over Suspense Magazine. This month you will notice true crime and real life influences on the articles, authors and stories. We live in a world intrigued by court cases, murder investigations and crime television and in May, Suspense Magazine wants to give our readers a hefty sampling of all things in this disturbing yet thrilling genre. The Suspense Magazine Book Club takes on a memoir this month which ended in a heated debate, our resident Fiction Junkie attempts to read true crime although she’s deeply afraid and a special feature looks at www.newcriminoligist.com, one of the most indepth true crime resources out there. Suspense Magazine chats with four authors we are very excited about: Ingrid Dean, Tom Hinshelwood, Donald Allen Kirch and Ted Dekker. Ingrid Dean discusses “Spirit of the Badge” her book of short stories recounting time in the police force, Donald Allen Kirch talks about his novel "Manchester House", which follows a fictional team of ghost hunters, while Tom Hinshelwood takes a moment to comment about his debut novel, "The Killer". Ted Dekker is a master of suspense and his latest novel "The Bride Collector" intrigued and entertained our staff immensely. Reading books is something we enjoy, but reading the recent releases by the authors was a true privilege and a whole lot of fun! Don’t forget to join us on www.GoodReads.com, Facebook and Twitter! Constant updates are being made, watch for monthly book giveaways and short story contests. While your there, tell us what you want to see in upcoming issues. Or email me at [email protected] to tell me who you want to see interviewed, the great new novel you just finished writing or the “On Location” ghost story you want to tell Suspense Magazine readers! We have re-vamped our blog, promising to stay up to date and informative. Visit www.SuspenseMagazine.com to find our blog page, as well as to learn about authors of the month and the 2010 short story contest. By the looks of the stories we’ve received so far, 2010 promises to be our most competitive year yet. Good luck to all, we love reading the blood, gore and mystery you put down on paper! Until Next Month, Amanda Goossen Editor-in-Chief, Suspense Magazine 

ge a m I Cover Shadows of Eternal Love By Ana Cruz

SuspenseMagazine.com

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In This Issue S u s p e n se M a g a z i n e

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25

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May 2010 / Vol. 011 3 Creating a Book Club: MEmoirs! by Amanda Goossen . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 Ask Your Writing Career Coach by Tiffany Colter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 Tales of a Fiction Junkie by Chelsea K. Baxter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Cordova Ranch by Mayra Beltran. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Truth or Legend: "Dracula and Vampires" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Water for Sunshine by Amanda Crum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Featured Artist: Ana Cruz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Inside the Pages: Suspense Magazine Book Reviews. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 Must See Movies. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42 PACE: Ten Surefire Ways to Keep the Pages Turning by Andrew Gross. . 45 Author Hall of Fame: Mario Gianluigi Puzo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 The New Criminologist by Amanda Goossen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 New Criminologist: Andrei Chikatilo by Steven Morris . . . . . . . . . . . 56 New Criminologist: The Irishman by Ron Chepesiuk . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 Focus on True Crime by Starr Gardinier Reina. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 On Location: Pasadena Suicide Bridge by Claudia Vargas . . . . . . . . 65 Murders in the Meadow by James G. Piatt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 Just for Fun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Spotlight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Spot We asked Mark Billingham: “What book changed your life?

There are two, really. I was told to read “The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes” at school by an eccentric math teacher who preferred Conan-Doyle to quadratic equations and I was utterly captivated by the outlandish tales and the character of the Great Detective. Then, I discovered books myself and read “The Godfather”. I was absolutely blown away by it. Obviously, for an impressionable thirteen-year-old, the sex scenes were a revelation! But it was my first encounter with the power and possibilities of popular fiction and from then on I could not get enough. 

THE BEST LITTLE BOOKSHOPS Around the World

Notable Events in MAY

Charles Parkhurst Rare Books 7079 East. 5th Ave. Scottsdale, AZ 85251 Phone: (480) 947-3558

Greater St. Louis Book Fair April 29-May 2 St. Louis, MO

http://www.parkhurstrarebooks.com/

Stand back and admire the beauty. This is not a bookstore it’s a bookshop. It’s a place that holds the most precious, the most beautiful and the most rare books you will ever see in your life. To me, books are a treasure and it’s obvious that the owner of Charles Parkhurst Rare Books feels the same. This is not a lounge around and read a book for four hours type of establishment. It is, however, a place to hold a piece of history in your hands and admire all its beauty type of shop. Stop by and take it all in…it’s a bookshop to truly appreciate.  SuspenseMagazine.com

http://www.stlouisbookfair.org/

BookExpo America May 25-27, 2010 New York, NY

http://bookexpoamerica.com/

Andrew Gross signs his newest thriller, “Reckless”

Go to http://www. andrewgrossbooks.com/events. htm to discover dates and locations.

L I G H T

Charlaine Harris DEAD IN THE FAMILY BOOK TOUR May 4–16 Go to http://www. charlaineharris.com/calendar. html to discover dates and locations.

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MEmoirs! A Girl’s Desperate Need for Friendship

Creating a Book Club:

By: Amanda Goossen

Memoirs are taking over bookstores. I remember when I was a child and I learned about biographies and their importance to the world. I remember reading a biography of George Washington and one on Abraham Lincoln, men who changed the world, changed America and most definitely helped create the very classroom in which I was sitting. I read the biography of Martin Luther King and when I was twentytwo years old was able to visit the Loraine Motel (now the site of the National Civil Rights Museum) where Dr. King was murdered. I flashed back to my history classes and was proud to be well educated and full of knowledge. Memoirs however, are becoming a major part of the literary world, some of the most famous and celebrated authors today have written page after page of memories that for some reason intrigue an outlandish amount of people. This month my book club attempted to read our second memoir in less than a year, leaving us to debate a somewhat obvious question: why in the heck are so many people writing about their lives and why do an enormous amount of readers line up to buy them? In 2006, Augusten Burroughs’ “Running with Scissors” was a smashing success. Burroughs approach to writing about the insanity of his childhood allowed his story to sit on the New York Times bestseller list for over four years, to be published in over twenty countries and eventually to be made into a movie starring Annette Bening, Joseph Fines, Alec Baldwin and Gwyneth Paltrow. I understand Burroughs success with this novel and sympathize with the tumultuous life from which he has sprung. Our choice this month however, was Augusten Burroughs 2008 memoir “A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of My Father” the sixth of seven books written by Burroughs. “A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of My Father” is a detailed account of Burroughs desperate battle as a young boy to receive love and attention from his father. It's a heart-breaking tale where the reader cannot help but feel for this young boy’s plea. His father is psychotic, an alcoholic who drinks the “tea” sitting on the counter in tall glasses day in and day out. He is abusive and frightening, a man that I feared from the outside looking in. “A Wolf at the Table” may have been terrifying and sad, desperate and horrifying, graphic and disgusting, but it was also un-enjoyable to read. There was nothing about

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Suspense Magazine May 2010 / Vol. 011

this book that made me want to read it. Yes, I felt terrible that Burroughs endured such things, I cried out for him in certain situations and threw my book in disgust, but the problem was I didn’t want to read about it. Everyone has a story, an alarming amount of people endure appalling situations, but for some reason it has become a trend to write about it.

My question is, why is this what we’re talking about? Why are we obsessed with talking about ourselves? Is the world too scary, is the serious stuff too controversial, or do we really think what we made for dinner is incredibly interesting to anyone and everyone in our life. Maybe we are just stuck in a strange point in time, a time when the entire world is obsessed with “me”. By the way, I do realize the hypocrisy here! I write a monthly column about MYSELF and my book club.

Creating a Book Club:

Maybe we live in a time where narcissism is simply a fact. Facebook and Twitter have entered our lives and people take complete pleasure in informing hundreds of people of the most mundane moments of their life. “I took a shower” a woman wrote on Facebook yesterday. “Thank you for wishing me happy birthday” and “I ate the most delicious apple pie today, OMG it was amazing” said two more. Last week a friend called me and said, “Amanda, you were right to escape Facebook. I just signed on and someone posted what the inside of their child’s diaper looked like.” Blogs are also a problem. Pages dedicated to showing off your kids and all their accomplishments, others filled with clothes that the blogger likes or my favorite was all about pop-culture, which was the guy’s way of writing about everything he liked without having to commit to one specific thing.

A Girl’s Desperate Need for Friendship

Fifteen years ago, David J. Pelzer wrote a memoir titled “A Child Called It”. It was a heart-wrenching story of David’s childhood with a mother who called him “IT”, kept him isolated from the rest of his family, burned him, stabbed him and kept him as a slave before attempting to poison and starve him to death. This book was not exceptionally well written, was brief and simply helped Dave tell the world how tortured some children may be, without anyone ever knowing it. To me it was an autobiography. It was something that teaches and informs the world. Pelzer’s next book “The Lost Boy” discussed his tormented years in the foster care system, again teaching the world and our government what is happening in a system that is supposed to be protecting. It was like the biographies of old times which sought to educate. David J. Peltzer books were altogether different than what we’ve seen sprout upon the shelves in the past fifteen years.

(Next month we are doing something a bit different. We discovered “Writers Can Cook Too!” a compilation of recipes from over one hundred thirtyfour different authors who can cook as well as write our favorite books. We will be reading the back stories and testing out the recipes, stay tuned for all the fun). 


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Ask Your Writing Career Coach iffany Colter Q:A:

with T

I have been writing for about five years and I still don’t have a book in print. Is that normal? We are conditioned in our society to expect a timeline for events. We know that a school year will last roughly nine months and a problem will be resolved on your favorite television show in thirty to sixty minutes. Our paycheck arrives every seven to fourteen days and even the most twisted plotline will be resolved in one hundred twenty thousand words or less. It can be frustrating when year after year it seems our writing career is stagnating. While there are many reasons for this uncertainty there are some things that help you make positive momentum in your writing career. 1. Take online classes: There are a variety of forms these classes can take. Some websites will offer you a set of lessons that you can work through and return. Others will offer a mentorship structure. The fees can vary from ten dollars per class all the way to one hundred dollars plus for a month of lessons. If you are a part of a writing group see if they offer classes (whether free or for a small fee) as part of your membership dues. 2. Hire a freelance editor to read through part or all of your manuscript: Early in my writing career I wondered why I would bother with a freelance editor. “Isn’t that what the editor at the publishing house is for?” I then met someone who was a freelance editor and had them read through thirty pages of my book. Their comments changed my writing forever. I went on to win the Daphne du Maurier award and secure an agent in less than a year from that set of edits. Even if you are part of a critique group, consider working with a content editor who will help you find the issues in your writing that may be stalling your writing career. 3. Enter a writing contest that offers feedback: There are many different writing contests out there. The key is to find a reputable one that offers feedback from two or more judges. I judge for a number of writing contests and love offering feedback to aspiring writers. I take my role very seriously and do it on a volunteer basis. In addition to judging writing contests, I also enter them with my own work. The investment of twenty-five to thirty-five dollars that I typically pay for each entry is worth it when those crucial first pages are read by a group of subjective judges. It also helps me develop the thick skin necessary to survive a life of writing. 4. Attend a writer’s conference: I put this a little way down the list because I often find people rush to writer’s conferences before they’re fully ready to take advantage of all they have to offer. I offer a few resources to help you prepare for editor/agent appointments at conference, but don’t feel like the event was a total loss if you didn’t get a request for your project. Writer’s conferences are great networking opportunities where you can meet other writers and learn from the classes offered. You can get the most out of them however, if you’ve done one or two of the things above before you attend. 5. Volunteer your writing for local publications: This is a great way to start your writing career. With many local papers struggling to stay solvent volunteering your writing skills can be a win-win for you and the local paper. You offer them with crucial material or manpower for reporting on local stories. You earn bylines and experience working with deadlines and editors. 6. Start a new project: The sad truth is that, for most authors, their first novel will never be published. That is because it is more of a practice piece than a well thought out story. In fact for many, their first two or three books may never actually end up on a bookshelf. This should not discourage you, however. Instead, start the process again. Think up new plotlines and new characters. It is the brainstorming that keeps writing exciting and your excitement that will keep your writing fresh. Some authors have even found that it was the time away from a sagging project that ended up giving them the spark they needed to finish it. A writing mentor of mine once said that it takes a million bad words to get to the good words. While that can be frustrating to aspiring writers, sometimes the reality is that we simply need to work on writing and developing the skill. A basketball star does not get there by dreaming of the game and talking about their favorite players. They get there by spending hours on the court practicing their free throws. Don’t allow the time it has taken you become a frustration. Instead, let it be an indication of the devotion you have to your dream of publication. Tiffany Colter is a regular columnist for Suspense Magazine. She can be reached at www.WritingCareerCoach.com. 

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New from New York Times bestselling author

ANDREW GROSS AUTHOR PHOTOGRAPH © BY JAN COBB

“Sexy as hell, Andrew Gross’s best.”

—JAMES PATTERSON

“Fantastic. A MUST READ.” —LEE CHILD

“Compelling… The action rips forward at breakneck speed.” —LINDA FAIRSTEIN

A MAN HAUNTED BY MURDER. A WOMAN TAUNTED BY GREED.

ONE CONSPIRACY TOO BIG TO FAIL. Also available from HarperCollins eBooks, HarperAudio, and HarperLuxe Large Print.

www.andrewgrossbooks.com

Fiction junkie By Chelsea K. Baxter

I live in one of the safest cities in the United States. Don’t get me wrong, crime happens here, it’s just that when it does, the entire city knows about it and we quickly put our foot down to stop it. Although I live in a relatively safe environment, I’d like to think I’m not ignorant to the crime that occurs in my surrounding areas. I live within an hour of Los Angeles and therefore, if I want to watch the news, it’s usually the LA news. For the following reason, I’ve stopped watching it. There are too many violent, depressing and scary stories that make their way into my head and turn into nightmares. If the news scares me, you can only imagine how I feel about entering the genre of true crime. Sure, I read some frightening fiction, but it often involves elements of fantasy or science fiction so I can push aside the fear of the events actually happening. If I watch movies or read stories about true crime, I’m guaranteed nightmares. However, in honor of this month’s issue, I decided

Fears 8


to suck it up and delve a little deeper into the genre of true crime. I want to know why people read it, how authors write it and if there’s the slightest chance I could persuade myself to try it. My friends suggested I check out Ann Rule because she’s a great author in this genre. I researched the information on her Web site at www. annrules.com to see how she comes up with a story. I was interested to learn that the timing is crucial when it comes to Rule’s books. She tells her fans, ‘If you send me an idea for a book, it really helps if you enclose newspaper clips, and let me know before a case goes to trial.’ I am impressed that Rule attends the trials. Since I’m not that familiar with true crime, I hadn’t thought about the importance of seeing your characters go through this process—rather than reading about it later in court documents. I definitely see how this would help capture the characters’ emotions. I kept researching because I knew what I was looking for: I wanted to know how she handled the really messy, gory cases. I was shocked to discover that she steers clear of those events! She states, ‘I don’t want to spend a year of my life immersed in a case that is newsworthy only because it deals with sickening torture or dismemberment.’ Okay, now I’m speechless. I guess I can throw my assumptions out the window. In most movies and books nowadays, it’s the shock value that sells. So now I’m left wondering, what crime makes for a good story? Rule explains that she—and her fans—are interested in, ‘the psychopathology of the criminal mind. If a person has all those things that most of us long for—physical beauty, wealth, charm, intelligence, talent, love—and still wants more…he (or she) may have an antisocial personality… These people, who often wear the perfect mask, make the best book subjects for me.’ I like that Rule looks at the characters as a prerequisite. I’m a little less scared, but only a little. I continued reading to see if there was anything else that may persuade me to swallow my fear. Rule comments that people ask her if she experiences nightmares as a result of dealing with this scary subject matter. Interestingly enough, she doesn’t. She says, ‘I think we have bad dreams about things we repress—and writing about subjects that might cause nightmares brings them out in the open.’ Well then, maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I need to suck it up and face my fears. Maybe I should try watching the news or reading a true crime book and see what happens. I tell you what. Today I read the summaries of some of Rule’s books. I’ll let you know tomorrow if I had any nightmares.  SuspenseMagazine.com

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Cordova Ranch

She started up the path towards the big white house. The bus dropped her off in town and wouldn’t drive up the path. After all these years she couldn’t believe that people were still afraid of this place. After all, what really happened? Three unexplained deaths and the hired help disappear without a trace? That’s the thing about small towns, too many people with nothing to do but start rumors. She arrived at the gate and pushed it through. The “No Trespassing” sign was covered in spider webs and moss. The trees that surrounded the path were so dense, it looked like it was midnight. The Cordova residence always looked like midnight. Did she really have any happy memories here? She looked towards the left where the tire swing used to hang. It was the very same spot where her brother Zachary hit his head and died. At least that what her parents said happened to him. Her name was Priscilla Cordova. She and her twin brother Phoenix were the youngest of four. Zachary, the one that died at the age of nine was the eldest. The middle child was Frederick. He was always the stubborn one. He was the one that didn’t want to sell the house once their parents mysteriously died. Then one day she received a letter in the mail stating she and Phoenix had full ownership of the house.

“Lucky me!” she said as she walked through the house. It smelled like rotting wood. All the furniture was covered in sheets. Who covered it, she asked herself? After unpacking the little belongings she brought with her, she called Phoenix to let him know she was there. “How does the old place look?” he asked. “Not that great. Everything is dusty and it smells like mold. When are you getting in so you can start selling this place? I have to be back in L.A. next week.” 10

by Mayra Beltran

There was a sigh on the other end, “I don’t think I’m going to make it Pris. I have a ton of work to do. Just sell the place on your own. I’m sure some contractor in town is dying to get their hands on that place. It will be a quick sell.” She knew he wouldn’t come through. “You’re meaning to tell me that I have to stay in this place by myself? I hate this place and you know it.” “Look, I have to go. I’ll sign anything you want. But I’m not going to the Cordova Ranch ever again. I hate that place just as much as you do.” There was a pause. “By the way, did you go up to that room in the attic yet?” Priscilla shook her head. “I don’t intend to. Nice talking to you, Phoenix.” She hung up. She woke up early the next morning to have breakfast. She got ready, grabbed her purse and headed towards town again. The walk wasn’t as creepy as it was yesterday; it was actually pleasant. Hal’s diner was always her favorite place to eat. She went in and sat at a table next to the window. The waitress approached her with the menu and half smiled. “Can I get you some coffee or water?” Priscilla nodded. “Coffee please; with milk, not that non-dairy creamer stuff.” “Sure thing, sweetheart.” She felt very uncomfortable sitting there by herself. It’s like everyone knew who she was, yet they didn’t approach her to say hello. She rolled her eyes. “Silly small town folks”. Suspense Magazine May 2010 / Vol. 011

The waitress returned with her coffee and a small container with milk. “Two percent okay, hun?”

please.”

Priscilla looked up from her notes and replied, “Yes thank you. I’ll have the eggs with bacon and pancakes

The waitress nodded. “I’ll have that right out for you in a few minutes, Miss Cordova”. “You know who I am?” asked Priscilla.

for more information. Will negotiate any offer. “I sound desperate,” she said to herself. Just then a man walked by and smiled. “You’re the Cordova girl.” She nodded, “Yes, I’m Priscilla. Are you interested in the place?” His smile turned into a frown. “No, I’m not in the market for a house, but there are some people from San Diego that are looking for a vacation home. I can give then your information if you like.” “Wow, yes, excellent! Wow, that was easy. That would be great!”

“Of course, everyone in town heard you were coming to sell your parents' place. Just a couple of weeks ago that brother of yours Frederick came to town and tried to sell it. Then one day he just came in here and said he was going to leave that task up to you.”

“I’ll go up to the ranch around three this afternoon before it gets dark of course.”

“Well, I didn’t even know he had come all the way to Lakeville being that he’s a busy lawyer in San Diego.”

He sighed.

“Good luck with selling the place,” said the waitress. “Do you know anyone who’s interested in the place? It’s a nice big house. It needs some work, but all together it’s a beautiful home.” Priscilla couldn’t believe her real estate skills; she was actually trying to make the house seem like a Beverly Hills mansion. The waitress raised her eyebrow. “I haven’t heard anyone in town looking to relocate, but I’ll keep my ears open. By the way, I’m Kathy, Kathy Odell.” “Pleasure to meet you, Kathy and thank you for breakfast,” said Priscilla.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” said Priscilla in a teasing voice. “No, I’m just afraid of what went on in that house.” He paused before continuing, “My name is Bradley by the way,” he extended his hand to Priscilla. She shook it and walked away. The house was so cold when she returned from town. She opened the old curtains in the living room. As a kid, she remembered spending little time in this room. But the light was always bright in here. Today, it was grim and not that cheerful. Suddenly she felt a gust of wind. She ran upstairs to close any open windows. All the windows were closed. Then she saw the door to the attic. Phoenix asked her if she was going to up there. If she was ever going to sell this place she was going to have to clean it out.

After breakfast she took a stroll to the local market to buy some groceries. She needed to eat while living in this place. She bought some essentials and headed back towards the ranch.

There were boxes everywhere and in the corner was a trunk of old toys. She opened it and sat on the floor. She found stuffed animals and toy trucks. Most of those toys belonged to Zachary. Life is so precious and it could be over in a blink of an eye.

On the way she posted a flyer she previously made at home. She posted it on the town’s bulletin board: Cordova Ranch for Sale please call 323-555-7850

She looked up from the trunk and noticed the door covered by boxes. Her parents didn’t allow anyone in


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the attic, much less anywhere near that door. She stood up from the floor and walked towards the door. She placed her hand on the door knob and suddenly felt a cold chill up her spine. She pushed it open; it was dark with only a speck of light coming from a boarded up window. She searched for a light switch, but there wasn’t one. She took down the boards. There was a small twin bed pushed up towards the wall. She couldn’t understand why there as a bed in here. Nobody stayed here and this certainly wasn’t the guest room. There was a small night stand next to the window. She looked towards the wall and saw a very small portrait. Priscilla walked towards it and noticed it was family portrait. Everyone was in it, including Zachary. Why was this up here? She looked at the wall; it seemed to be like hieroglyphics. There were drawings of stick figures and simple words. Kill, die, dead.

left to go to school in San Francisco and never looked back. I graduated and moved to Los Angeles where I’m currently teaching at a college. I didn’t even come to my parents' funerals.” “Do you even know how they died?” asked Bradley as he leaned forward in his seat. “The housekeepers that remained here said my mother committed suicide and my father had a heart attack”. “Do you honestly believe that?” said Bradley. “Well, yes, what else could’ve happened? My mother wasn’t exactly the happiest person on earth. After Zachary died, she changed. She never looked out for us. We were dead to her. She was basically clinically depressed for the rest of her life. My father was always working in the city to keep the family fortune alive. I never saw him.”

Priscilla ran out of there immediately. She quickly dialed Frederick’s number, as usual, he didn’t answer.

Priscilla bit her lip and looked away.

She left him a voicemail.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Fred. It’s Pris. I’m going through the things in the attic and I found a room with a bed in there. Do you know who slept there? Call me back please”.

“No, it’s okay. By any chance, do you know who lived up in the attic?”

She was startled by the door bell. She ran downstairs and opened it. “Did I scare you?” asked Bradley smiling from ear to ear. “No. I was upstairs looking through some boxes. Come in.” Bradley came in to the foyer and paused. “Want to come sit in the living room? Sorry this isn’t a cozy house,” said Priscilla. “Well I only came to give you that information you wanted. I have to be getting back to town.” “Don’t be silly. Please have a seat.” He sat in a chair next to the coffee table. “How long has it been that you haven’t returned to the ranch?” he asked. Priscilla thought for a while, then answered, “It’s been about, oh, fifteen years. I left when I was nineteen. I 12

Bradley sighed.

“I don’t know, maybe one of the housekeepers. Why do you ask?” “It wasn’t the housekeepers that lived up there; they had their private quarters near the kitchen. As children we weren’t allowed to step foot in the attic and now I know why, someone was living up there.” Bradley stood up. “I wouldn’t know and you can’t ask the housekeepers because they left town.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Here is the information you asked for. I have to return to town.” He started towards the door. “Wait, Bradley, can’t you stay awhile. It’s nice talking to someone.” He opened the door and replied, “Let’s have lunch tomorrow at Hal’s. I may have some more information on your little mystery.” He turned and walked away, leaving Priscilla with an empty feeling in her stomach. Suspense Magazine May 2010 / Vol. 011

Before she went to bed Priscilla decided to call Phoenix, this time he answered promptly. “Hello little sister, how’s Lakeville? Did you turn into a country girl yet?” asked Phoenix with a fake southern accent. “No, I’m not a town folk yet. However, I’m spending time with country folk.” “This isn’t time for a love connection Pris. Get in there, sell the house and get out,” ordered Phoenix. “I’m trying, but this isn’t exactly Disneyland where flocks of people are lining up to see the house. People are afraid of this place; I’m not sure why.” She took a deep breath and continued, “I went into the attic today.” “Oh, what did you see?” “I found a private room with a bed. The windows were all boarded up and the walls had drawings and words written on them. Ugly words. Who lived up there?” “I’m not sure. Maybe it was one of the housekeepers that lived there or one of their kids,” said Phoenix. “Then why weren’t we allowed to go up there? Remember that one time when Frederick dared me to go up there so I opened the door and mom came out of her bedroom and smacked me? If it was just a housekeeper’s kid up there, then why go through that trouble?” Priscilla sat on the bed. “I have to know what’s going on. How did mom and dad die?” “Pris. You know how they died. Look, I think this whole situation is turning you into a Lifetime movie character. Just sell the house and get back to L.A.” She hung up. As much as she missed her home, she had a task here and needed to complete it; even if it meant staying in this creepy house. Priscilla sat in a booth promptly at noon. She had to admit that she was excited about her lunch plans with Bradley. She didn’t know if it was because she wanted to learn the secrets of the house or if it was because Bradley was a handsome, country man. She giggled to herself, how depressing was her life that she found a country man handsome. She didn’t even know if he was married. Outside the storm clouds started to gather. Rain was on SuspenseMagazine.com

its way. Then again, it was always gloomy in Lakeville. Bradley came in and wiped his feet on the doormat. He smiled at her, showing his wide, white smile. “Sorry I’m late, someone stopped by my store to buy some animal feed.” “You and your wife own it?” asked Priscilla. Bradley let out a loud laugh. “No. I own it. I’m not married.” He held up his left hand to show his missing wedding band. Priscilla smiled. She was relieved. Again, she felt silly for even asking about a wife. It shouldn’t matter. Like Phoenix said, this wasn’t the best time for a love connection. They had small talk during lunch. Kathy, the waitress, couldn’t keep her eyes off of them. "Perfect," thought Priscilla, now she would be branded the town slut! Her thoughts were disturbed when Bradley spoke. “So, do you really want to know who lived up there?” She nodded and replied, “Yes. I have to know the truth. It seems everyone around me knows something, except me.” He sighed before answering, “Someone definitely lived up there. In 1959 your mother gave birth to a child. It was a boy. His name was Isaac. He wasn’t born in this town. He was born in San Diego. That’s where your parents lived before they moved here. They didn’t actually move here until Isaac was two and your mother was pregnant with Zachary…” Priscilla interrupted and stated, “There must be some mistake, my parents didn’t have another child there were only four of us.” “Try to be patient with me please,” Bradley continued, “Isaac was born with a rare birth defect where his face was severely deformed along with fingers and toes. The doctors didn’t know why this happened, that’s why your parents came to the ranch. Your parents were too ashamed of having such a mutant child that they locked him in the attic. They even hired an extra nanny to care for him. Her name was Esmeralda, she was my mother,” he paused and continued, “I’m not making 13

this up. Want me to stop?”

happened to your mother? Did she die?”

Priscilla took a sip of her coffee, “No. Continue please.”

“No, she’s alive. She moved away after your parents were killed.”

“My mother cared for him as if he was her own. Your mom would come visit him once a week. Usually on Sunday, but she would only see him through a peep hole in the door. As he grew, she saw less and less of him. He became very violent. Usually it was towards himself. He tried to jump out the window one day, that’s why they boarded them up. One day my mother went upstairs with a tray of food and Zachary saw her. He hid behind some boxes and when she left he walked towards the door. He looked through a peep hole and saw his brother sitting on floor eating his dinner. Zachary opened the door and went into the bedroom. Suddenly Isaac charged at him with a knife and stabbed him in the neck. Your brother was stabbed fifteen times before my mother came up to retrieve his plate.” Tears streamed down her checks. “What happened to Isaac after that?” “Your parents wanted him dead, but they didn’t have the heart to do it. My mother said they offered her five hundred thousand dollars to shoot him or poison him. But my mother wasn’t a murderer. After Zachary died, your mother never went up to see Isaac again. Your father never visited him either. It was as if he didn’t exist. My mother said Frederick snuck up to the attic one day because he heard screams. Your brother saw Isaac too, but he was lucky that Isaac was strapped to his bed. I know this is difficult to hear, but you asked me to tell you the truth and now I’m telling you.” Crying for Eternity by Ana Cruz 14

“ W h a t

“Killed? You mean died?” “No, killed”, he took a deep breath. “Two years ago, my mother accidentally left the door unlocked. She went into the kitchen to get him some water so he could take his anxiety pills. Isaac hadn’t had a violent episode in years, so he wasn’t being strapped in. He walked all the way to your mother’s bedroom. Your mother was sitting at her vanity, he took a letter opener that was on the desk and stabbed her in the back. I’m sure your mother yelled, but nobody heard her. Your father was in the shower, that’s where he died. Isaac went in there and also stabbed him. When my mother came back upstairs, she found Isaac next to his mother crying. My mother said that she hugged Isaac, put him in the car and drove him to a little town called Heber where she set him up in a house. The lady that runs it takes care of other people that were abandoned by their families.” “Did he kill anyone else?” asked Priscilla with tears in her eyes. “No, and he hasn’t since.” Outside, the rain started to come down. Priscilla felt like the rain was coming down on her. “Is your mother still alive? I have to go see him. Maybe I can take him out of there and he could come live with me in LA.” “My mother moved away to Mexico earlier this year. She hasn’t come to see him in months, but from what she tells me, he’s doing fine there. Besides, what can you offer him? You don’t know him. He’s fifty years old. He barely even talks to anyone.” Priscilla stood up in a huff. “I could offer him a home and family. Things he’s never experienced. And if I can’t manage, I could set him up in a nice private home in LA with the rest of his family.” She ran out of the diner. She ran all the way home in the rain. By the time she reached the ranch she was drenched. After her bath she called Phoenix to tell him the Suspense Magazine May 2010 / Vol. 011

truth. But he didn’t answer. She called Frederick; she was lucky this time. “What’s happening?” “Hey, I have some story to tell you.” “Did you sell it yet?” “No, not yet, just listen. Did you know that we had another brother?” There was complete silence on the other end. Then he spoke. “Was your job to sell the house or become Priscilla the detective?” “That’s rude! Did you know or not?” “Yes, I knew! I saw him with my own eyes!” “Then why didn’t you ever tell us about him? He’s our brother and now he’s locked up in some house in Heber, who knows where the hell it is. We have to get him out!” “And do what with him, Priscilla? Sit around the campfire and sing Kumbaya? The man is an animal! He killed Zachary and our parents. Why would I want him near me?” “I can’t believe you! He’s not an animal…“ Frederick interrupted her and yelled, “Listen you treehugging hippie, that thing that I saw in the attic isn’t human. He’s a monster. I saw pure evil in his eyes. He’s the devil incarnate and you want to bring him into your home and live happily ever after? Well no. I’m sorry Pris but you’re on your own. Don’t call me until you sell that house!” He hung up and left her sitting in the dark. She couldn’t sleep that night. She looked at her watch, 4:00 a.m. She got up and went downstairs to make some tea. The house was extremely cold so she wrapped her robe around her tighter. She sat at the table and waited for the water to boil. How many times as children did they scream and laugh outside? And how many times had Isaac heard them? His window looked right out to the tire swing. She remembered looking up one day and seeing a tiny face in the window, but she thought it was her imagination. Now, she knows it wasn’t. She SuspenseMagazine.com

sipped her tea and went upstairs to her bedroom. On the way to her room she stopped in what was her parents’ bedroom. Priscilla opened the door and turned on the light. The hardwood floors had a dark stain next to the vanity; it was probably where her mother was killed. She stepped over it and opened the drawer in the desk. Maybe there was a birth certificate or pictures. What if this was all a hoax and Isaac didn’t really exist? In an envelope she found photographs of her mother holding a tiny baby. The baby’s face was covered with a blanket. Priscilla turned the photograph around and in her mother’s writing it said, “1959, Isaac and I, a gift from the devil.” Her mother really did think he was the devil. “He never had a chance,” said Priscilla as she talked to Phoenix on the phone the next morning. “So what are you going to do? You can’t exactly go and look for him at that house. You don’t know him. What if he’s dangerous?” “He’s probably lonely, that’s all. Isaac doesn’t have to live with me. I can find him a good home in LA. We’ll get him the best treatment that money can buy.” “Priscilla, just forget about everything. Forget about selling the house, just get on the bus and come home. Better yet, I’ll go get you myself.” “I know this is what I have to do. Isaac can’t live as the family reject forever. I’m going to put a stop to this with or without the help of my family.” With that said, she hung up. Priscilla went to the feed store to ask a favor from Bradley. “You want to borrow my car?” asked Bradley. “Yes. I know how to drive and I have my license and I promise that it’s not expired! Please I’ll give you $200.00 and I’ll put gas in it.” “And where exactly were you thinking of taking it to?” “That’s the second part of my favor. I need to know where Isaac is. I know that he’s in the town of Heber. Where is he?” 15

Bradley shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. Priscilla, he doesn’t know you. You can’t do that.” “I’m tired of everyone saying I can’t do it! What good is all the Cordova fortune if I can’t even help my own brother?” Bradley was silent for what seemed like an eternity. “Fine, I’ll let you borrow my truck, but only because I trust you.” He wrote down an address on a piece of paper. “This is where Isaac is. Ask for woman named Emma. She’s my mother’s friend. Be careful and call me when you get there. Remember, you don’t have to do this.” Bradley gave Priscilla a hug and for the first time, she felt like somebody actually cared for her. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him. Priscilla became very nervous when she saw the sign that said, “Welcome to Heber.” She quickly dialed Bradley’s number. “I made it. I’m here. I’m so nervous.” “Good. Emma is expecting you. I called her and told her you were on your way.” He paused, “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” She took a deep breath. “Yes, more than anything in the world. Thank you for your help. I’ll call you when we’re on our way back.” Priscilla approached the house and rang the doorbell. A small woman with dark hair opened it. She smiled and asked, “Hello, may I help you?” “Yes, I’m looking for Emma. I’m Miss…” “Cordova, yes, we’ve been expecting you. I’m Emma. Come in, Isaac is in the back.” Emma led her down the hallway past the living room. The house appeared to be nice and clean. She expected to see people strapped to their chairs eating off the floor. Most of the residents seemed to have down syndrome.

families are at work. We offer a day care service here too. Isaac is the only resident who is permanent.” Priscilla imagined that Isaac would be sitting in a chair playing chess with another resident. Suddenly they approached the last door down the long hallway. Emma knocked gently. “Isaac, honey, your sister is here. He was so excited you were coming, he took a bath and I helped him shave.” Isaac sat in the chair next to the window that looked out to the backyard. There was a large tree in the middle with a swing on it just the one at the ranch. “Isaac, this is Priscilla,” said Emma with a nervous look on her face. Isaac turned to face them. He had large, blue eyes that were largely wide set. His nose was enlarged and his mouth wide and didn’t seem to close. Priscilla walked towards him and looked back at Emma. She smiled and said, “I’ll leave you two to talk. Isaac, I’m going to get your bags ready. Your sister is taking you home.” Emma left, closing the door behind her. Isaac looked at her and pointed at the swing, “I want to swing.” She walked towards the window. “Maybe later we can go out there and swing.” Her eyes filled with tears. She couldn’t believe that she finally met the Cordova secret and the culprit responsible her brother and parents' deaths. He looked so sweet and innocent. Isaac extended his arms for a hug as Priscilla approached him. She hugged him. “Oh Isaac, we finally meet and we can finally be a family, just like you always wanted.”

“Were all of these people abandoned by their families?”

Isaac pulled a large knife from underneath his chair and stabbed her in the back. All Priscilla could do is look into his devilish eyes as he stabbed her over and over again.

“No. Most of them are just here for the day while their

“Kill, die, dead.” was all he said. 

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o r h t u r T

By: T.A. Wright

Legend W

ith the re-release of Dracula on May 4, 2010, I thought this was the perfect time to explore the Vampire who started it all. In “Bram Stoker’s Dracula”, Dracula is shown as a Christian man who denounces God and hands his soul over to the devil, when his wife Elisabeta commits suicide due to false reports of his death during battle. Seeing her dead on the alter when he returns, he decides to devote his life to evil.

Vlad the Impaler and the Turkish Envoys Theodor Aman Undated National Gallery, Bucharest

Is the real Dracula a Vampire?

Vlad the Impaler was a ruler in Romania from 1456 to 1462 and is the real Dracula. His Romanian surname Dracula means “son of the dragon” and history says his father joined the Order of the Dragon, a monarchial chivalric order for selected nobility. His father was given the name Vlad Dracul, dracul coming from the Latin word “draco” which means dragon, and the Greek word “dracon” which translates in Romanian to “devil”. Many people seriously ask themselves if Vlad Dracula was a vampire; if he can resurrect people from the grave. Supposing the vampire myth is a reality and knowing Vlad the Impaler's ego, do you think he would let anyone who believed and spread the Saxon stories live? Lucky you; Vlad Dracula died more than five centuries ago and Count Dracula—the vampire—is just a myth. Count Dracula is a fictional character, the so-called adversary of Bram Stoker's 1897 Gothic horror novel “Dracula” and classic vampire. Some aspects of his character may have been inspired by the fifteenth century Romanian general and Wallachian Prince Vlad III the Impaler. In the United States the character became public domain in 1899 and then appears repeatedly in all manner of popular culture, from films to video games and even breakfast cereals. Biography Count Dracula (his first name never given in the novel) is a centuries-old vampire, sorcerer and Transylvanian nobleman, who claims to be a Szekely descended from Attila the Hun. He inhabits a rotting SuspenseMagazine.com

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castle in the Carpathian Mountains near the Borgo Pass. Contrary to the vampires of Eastern European folklore— which are portrayed as repulsive, corpse-like creatures—Dracula can exude a veneer of aristocratic charm which masks his immeasurable evil. Details of his early life are ambiguous, but it seems that Dracula studied the black arts at the academy of Scholomance in the Carpathian Mountains, overlooking the town of Sibiu (also known as Hermannstadt) and became gifted in transformation and magic. Taking up arms—befitting his rank and status as a Voivode—he led troops against the Turks across the Danube. Where is his birthplace? There are no notes about Vlad Dracula or his life before 1437 after his father become the ruler of Wallachia and his name was written for the first time in a princely bond. Historians suppose he was born sometime between December 1430 and February 1431. But because there are notes that place Vlad (the father of Vlad the Impaler) in Vienna at the end of 1430 and in Sighisoara at the beginning of 1431, some researchers assume Vlad could have been born in Vienna. Who was the mother of Vlad Dracula? The identity of Vlad Dracula's mother is another unknown of his life. Some scholars sustain that she was a Moldavian princess, niece or daughter of Moldavian prince Alexandru cel Bun (Alexander the Good). This option is also perpetual by the later, very close relationship between Vlad the Impaler and Moldavia. Other scholars tell she was a Transylvanian nobleman's daughter. This variant is lasting by the fact that Vlad II (the father) lived his early years, until the day he became Wallachia's ruler in Hungary, in the circle of Transylvanian noblemen. Reading a bit about Dracula (arguably the most famous vampire), compare him to “real” vampires: The idea of vampirism has existed for thousands of years; cultures such as the Mesopotamians (including the demoness Lilith and the Edimmu of Sumerian, Assyrian and Babylonian mythology), Hebrews, Ancient Greeks and Romans had tales of demons and spirits, which are considered ancestors to modern vampires. However, despite the existence of vampire-like creatures in these ancient civilizations, the folklore for the creature we know today as the vampire is derived almost entirely from early 18th century Southeastern Europe, when oral traditions of many ethnic groups of the region were recorded and published. In most cases, vampires are ghosts of evil beings, suicide victims or witches, but they can also be created by a wicked spirit possessing a corpse or by being bitten by a vampire. Belief in such legends became so persistent that in some areas, it caused mass hysteria and even public executions of people believed to be vampires. It is difficult to make a single, definitive description of the folkloric vampire, though there are several fundamentals common to many European legends. Vampires were usually reported as bloated in appearance, and ruddy, purplish or dark in color; these characteristics were often attributed to the recent drinking of blood. Indeed, blood was often seen seeping from the mouth and nose when one was seen in its shroud or coffin and its left eye was often open. It would be clad in the linen shroud it was buried in and its teeth, hair and nails may have grown somewhat, though in general, fangs were not a feature.

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Vlad Ţepeş, the Impaler, Prince of Wallachia (1456-1462)


The causes of vampiric generations were many and varied in original folklore. In Slavic and Chinese traditions, any corpse which was jumped over by an animal, mainly a dog or a cat, was feared to become one of the undead. A body with a wound which had not been treated with boiling water, was also at risk. In Russian folklore, vampires were said to have once been witches or people who had revolted against the church while they were alive. Cultural practices often arose that were intended to prevent a recently deceased loved one from turning into an undead ghost. Burying a corpse upside-down was widespread, as was putting earthly objects, such as scythes or sickles, near the grave to satisfy any demons entering the body or to placate the dead so that it would not wish to arise from its coffin. This method is similar to the Ancient Greek practice of placing an obolus in the corpse’s mouth to pay the toll to cross the River Styx in the underworld; it has been argued that instead, the coin was intended to ward off any evil spirits from entering the body and this may have influenced later vampire folklore. This tradition continued in modern Greek folklore about the vrykolakas, in which a wax cross and piece of pottery with the inscription “Jesus Christ conquers” were placed on the corpse to prevent the body from becoming a vampire. Other methods regularly practiced in Europe included severing the tendons at the knees or placing poppy seeds, millet or sand on the ground at the grave site of a alleged vampire; this was proposed to keep the vampire busy all night by counting the fallen grains, signifying an association of vampires with arithmomania. Similar Chinese accounts state that if a vampire-like being came across a sack of rice, it would have to count every grain; this is a theme encountered in myths from the Indian subcontinent as well as in South American tales of witches and other sorts of evil or wicked spirits or beings. Many complex rituals were used to recognize a vampire. One method of finding a vampire's grave involved leading a virgin boy through a graveyard or church grounds on a virgin stallion—the horse would allegedly balk at the grave in question. Generally a black horse was required, though in Albania it should be white. Holes materializing in the earth over a grave were taken as a sign of vampirism. Corpses thought to be vampires were generally depicted as having a healthier appearance than expected, plump and showing little or no signs of decay. In some cases, when suspected graves were opened, villagers even portrayed the corpse as having fresh blood from a victim all over its face. Proof that a vampire was active in a given locality included death of cattle, sheep, relatives or neighbors. Folkloric vampires could also make their attendance felt by engaging in minor poltergeist-like activity, such as throwing stones on roofs or moving household objects and pressing on people in their sleep. Apotropaics— ordinary or sacred items able to ward off ghosts, such as garlic or holy water are common in vampire folklore. The items vary from region to region; a branch of wild rose and hawthorn plant are said to harm vampires; in Europe, sprinkling mustard seeds on the roof of a house was said to keep them away. Other apotropaics include sacred items, for example a crucifix, rosary or holy water. Vampires are said to be unable to walk on holy ground, such as those of churches or temples, or cross running water. Although not traditionally thought of as an apotropaic, mirrors have SuspenseMagazine.com

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been used to ward off vampires when placed facing outwards on a door (in some cultures, vampires do not have a reflection and sometimes do not cast a shadow, perhaps as a symptom of the vampire's lack of a soul). This attribute, although not universal (the Greek vrykolakas/tympanios was capable of both reflection and shadow), was used by Bram Stoker in Dracula and has remained popular with subsequent authors and filmmakers. Some traditions also hold that a vampire cannot enter a house unless invited by the owner, although after the first invitation they can come and go as they wish. Though folkloric vampires were thought to be more active at night, they were not normally believed vulnerable to sunlight. Methods of annihilating alleged vampires varied. Staking was the most commonly cited method, particularly in southern Slavic cultures. Ash was the Gary Oldman, Dracula chosen wood in Russia and the Baltic States, or hawthorn in Serbia, with a record of oak in Silesia. Prospective vampires were most often staked though the heart, though the mouth was targeted in Russia and northern Germany and the stomach in northeastern Serbia. Piercing the skin of the chest was a way of “deflating” the bloated vampire; this is similar to the act of burying sharp objects, such as sickles, in with the corpse so they may enter the skin if the body bloats sufficiently while converting into a ghost. Decapitation was the preferred method in German and western Slavic areas, with the head buried between the feet, behind the buttocks or away from the body. This act was seen as a way of rushing the departure of the soul, which in some cultures was said to remain in the corpse. The vampire's head, body or clothes could also be spiked and pinned to the earth to avoid rising. Gypsies drove steel or iron needles into a corpse’s heart and placed bits of steel in the mouth, over the eyes, ears and between the fingers at the time of burial. They also placed hawthorn (thorny bush or tree of the rose family) in the corpse’s sock or drove a hawthorn stake through the legs. In a 16th-century burial near Venice, a brick forced into the mouth of a female corpse has been construed as a vampire-slaying ritual by the archaeologists who discovered it in 2006. Additional actions included pouring boiling water over the grave or complete incineration of the body. In the Balkans, a vampire could also be killed by being shot or drowned, by repeating the funeral service, by sprinkling holy water on the body or by exorcism. In Romania, garlic could be placed in the mouth and as recently as the 19th century, the precaution of shooting a bullet through the coffin was taken. For challenging cases, the body was dismembered and the pieces burned, mixed with water and administered to family members as a cure. In Saxon regions of Germany, a lemon was placed in the mouth of suspected vampires. Tales of supernatural beings consuming the blood or flesh of the living have been found in nearly every culture around the world for many centuries. Today we would relate these entities with vampires, but in ancient times, the term vampire did not exist; blood drinking and similar activities were accredited to demons or spirits who would eat flesh and drink blood; even the Devil was considered identical with the vampire. Almost every nation has linked blood drinking with some kind of ghost or demon, or in some cases a divine being. Hollywood and authors through time have shaped our idea of what vampires are as well as if they even exist. What do you believe? Are there immortal, evil beings among us waiting for the right time to bite us so we can join their ranks? Check out the sites below or just put “vampires” in your favorite search engine; you won’t believe the information available.  http://www.exploringromania.com/the-real-dracula.html#vampire http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Count_Dracula http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vampire

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New Author

Donald Allen Kirch Interview By: Suspense Magazine

ATTACKED BY A GHOST! Donald Allen Kirch is one of the only authors in his genre that can make this claim and his novel, “Manchester House” benefits from this real life experience. Finding a new author is never easy. Books are readily available, but finding one that will impress the masses is a tough feat. After reading the first chapter of “Manchester House” by Donald Allen Kirch, I knew I could end my search. Kirch is a versatile man; his three novels each published in 2009 are all in different suspense genres. “Still Water” is a historical suspense novel, “The Christ Project” is a science fiction novel and “Manchester House” is a horror novel. In 2009, his breakout year, Kirch saw each of his novels accepted and published by Blood Moon Publishing based in Canada. These titles are e-books, which can be purchased on fictionwise.com. For those of you who like to hold a nice, sturdy book in your hands, hardcopies can be purchased at Lulu.com. I was given the chance to ask Donald Allen Kirch about his work and a little about his ghost attack in this interview. Enjoy his words and buy his books, you will enjoy every page! Suspense Magazine (S.MAG.): Manchester House is a story about a haunted house. Can you tell us about the experience you had with a ghost and a haunted house? Donald Allen Kirch (D.A.K.): In the summer of 2004, I was involved with a group of people who were dedicated to the investigation of the paranormal. A self-proclaimed psychic in the group managed to pull off the impossible—she got permission for us to go to the “Sallie House.” The Sallie House is a famous haunted house in Atchison, Kansas—it so happens to be the city “Manchester House” takes place in. Atchison, Kansas is on record for being the “most haunted town in Kansas.” Anyway, I knew the Sallie House from several documentaries I watched and I was also a great fan SuspenseMagazine.com

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New Author of the Fox-TV series Sightings, so, I grabbed at the chance to go. Now, before I go any further, let me just state for the record that when it comes to the paranormal and ghosts I am an “optimistic skeptic.” I do believe, but I also believe in the abilities of the human mind to help explain the unexplainable. I also believe in the human ability to commit fraud. I went into this thing with eyes—and my doubts—wide open. It was the most fascinating summer of my life! Things happened almost immediately. We had an assistant camera man, who got sick about fifteen minutes after we arrived. He never again set foot inside the house and we were there for two complete weekends. In the home’s basement, our team was assaulted by flying bricks, old and very brittle bricks, nothing like modern bricks. Am I getting a little crazy about mentioning bricks here? There’s good reason: The basement of the Sallie House is made of riverbed stones, there are no bricks! The only bricks there are, are in the chimney and they’re not going to just pop out and start braining us. That…was scary. We also discovered a black “blotch” of paint on the basement floor, which at first appeared to be nothing more than the average basement paint accidents in any home. However, upon further investigation, we discovered that this “blotch” was covering up something more Suspense Magazine Review on “Manchester House” sinister than a home accident. It “Manchester House” by Donald Allen Kirch: is a massive surprise. was covering up a pentagram. Rarely does a novel paint such a complete picture, such an incredible Further reports discovered that the world that you no longer feel you’re reading, but simply watching the last tenant of the property had been scenes unfold right before your eyes. a practitioner in the “Wicca Arts.” Then came my attack. I was upstairs, heading down to the first floor. At this time, the “Sallie House” was in-between clients, so the owner had been ripping up the carpet, leaving behind a series of carpet tacks and nail boards for the installment of new carpet. The staircase’s steps were practically littered with nails. Something—I do not know what— attacked me. I stopped mid-staircase and could feel tiny hands taking hold of my ankles and quite adult hands upon my shoulders. All at once, the tiny hands pushed and the adult hands pulled. If it had not been for my 22

Dripping with detail, “Manchester House” takes you inside SOURCE, a group of scientists, psychics and craftsmen dedicated to the explanation of the unexplainable. Each time new residents settle into this decrepit and disgusting mansion, with hopes of renovations and a beautiful new beginning, their lives take a tumultuous turn. Bodies are repeatedly pulled from Manchester House and when Lt. Albert Wells discovers yet another gruesome and unexplainable scene, he calls in Jonathon Holzer and the SOURCE team to discover what the police cannot understand. This captivating look into a world of spirits, demons, death and destruction shocked every one of my senses. Donald Allen Kirch’s ability to bounce between the ghost team’s discoveries and flashbacks to the way evil inhabited past residents and calculated their horrifying demise is brilliant. I was sucked into the team and felt as if I was walking amongst them as they solved the great mysteries of life, the afterlife and the unexplainable destruction of human beings for over two centuries inside the terrifying world of the Manchester House. Don’t let the idea of ghosts and goblins scare you away, you too will be pleasantly surprised by what unfolds within the pages of such a skillfully written story and such masterfully crafted characters. “Manchester House” is frightening, gruesome and great.


New Author natural instincts to take hold of the railing and wall, I could have been ripped to shreds by the carpet tacking, or even broken my neck. I later discovered, after taking my shirt off—it was a rather hot day, and I changed my shirt— that both my arms were covered with scratches. None broke the skin and I never felt any pain, but they were there. “Sallie” has a tradition of leaving scratches on her victims when she attacks. That’s my haunted house and ghost nut shell.

story…in a

S.MAG.: The characters in “Manchester House” are so incredibly rich and complete that to me they must be real people. Are they based on a true team? D.A.K.: I would like to say “yes,” but they were not. After the story I have told above, you would think so. However, to help make each novel more personal and alive for me, I incorporate myself in one single character. I am in each of my novels. Your task is to guess who. S.MAG.: The way you bounce back and forth between true time and visions of past deaths within the Manchester House makes this story incredibly rich. Can you explain how you were able to achieve this balance of past and present? D.A.K.: I love flashback stories. When writing “Manchester House” I knew that there would be a long period of time, where my SOURCE Team would be waiting for another member to show up. This left a gapping hole in the telling of the story, so, I used this time for members of the team to “tell” the stories of past victims, only to discover—quite surprisingly—that it added to the depth of the story. So, like all good writers, I went with it and allowed the plot to control me. It became one hell of an adventure! S.MAG.: Did massive amounts of research go into creating Ingrid Night’s bag of tricks? D.A.K.: Yes! Ingrid Night himself is Jewish. However, there are times when he will use a Christian Cross or Native American charms to do SuspenseMagazine.com

FROM TOP TO BOTTOM: (1) Sallie house (2) Ouija Board Hunting (3) Deadly Staircase at Sallie House (4) Sallie House Pentagram

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New Author his bidding. Whatever form of good, whatever religious icon he can use to help fight off evil—even if it goes against his own personal dogma—he will use it. In his fight against evil, he has discovered that good, in any form, is more powerful when used in concert. He is truly a fascinating character. Where I got the idea for his bag of tricks, or “conjure kit,” was from reading historical documents on the “Witch Hunters” and “Vampire Hunters” of the Middle Ages. Any good investigator worth his salt would carry a bag full of tricks, wherever he went. S.MAG.: You have written three novels all in different genres, what is your favorite type of novel? D.A.K.: Horror. Having said that, please, let me clarify. When I say “horror” I do not mean slasher or gore. As a child I loved watching shows like The Twilight Zone, Night Gallery, Kolchak: The Night Stalker, and Ghost Story. In each, I enjoyed the “monster inside” stories the most. What these stories are, are stories which help the viewer build up “the monster” inside of their own minds. Nothing is more frightening than the “monster” we make up in our own imagination. S.MAG.: What advice can you give someone trying desperately to be published? D.A.K.: Three things: One, never take “no” for an answer. Have the tenacity of a bull dog. Two, NEVER PAY TO HAVE YOUR WORK PUBLISHED! (Unless this is all just an ego trip for you.) They pay you. That’s how it’s done. And, three, BELIEVE in yourself. Because without this the other two points of advice are useless. You will encounter a few flakes and false prophets along the way, but do not lose heart. S.MAG.: What book changed your life? D.A.K.: “I Am Legend” by Richard Matheson. Upon reading this book, I was hooked. From that moment on I said, “I want to do…this. I want to be a writer!” To find out more about Donald Allen Kirch and his novels, go to: http://donaldallenkirch.webs. com/. 

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D

Attention Writers

o you have an article about writing? How about a short story with a mystery/suspense/horror base? Have you ever wanted to see your work and name in print? If you answered yes, then this is for you. Suspense Magazine is looking for writers who might have an idea they’d like to share with other writers. Maybe a short story you’d like others to read and enjoy. We’re looking for your help. If you have an article or short story you’d like to share, please, email them to [email protected]. The work must be in the body of the email, no attachments will be opened. The subject line should read ‘SUSPENSE MAGAZINE WORK’; anything else will be deleted.

The word count should be kept between 1,500 and 5,000 words per article or story. Any piece submitted over or under the word count will be disqualified for consideration. The deadline is the end of business on the second Friday of each month, every month for said work to have a possibility of making it into the following month’s publication. All submissions are subject to editing at the magazine’s discretion and must be your original work, no plagiarism accepted. Suspense Magazine makes no promises your work will be published, but every piece submitted within the guidelines will be considered. If you’d like, every story will also be read for admittance to our contest, which can be read about in Suspense Magazine or on line at www.suspensemagazine.com. 


New Author

Tom HinshElwood action to keep you turning the pages.

T

Interview By: Suspense Magazine

om Hinshelwood is a UK native. He was born in Burton Uppon Trent in Staffordshire, England and currently resides in London. His career in writing began after reading thrillers without the thrills. He was on a mission to create a story that would capture an audience and provide enough

“The Killer” is an action packed story about Victor, a professional contract killer. His job is simple; kill the person he’s been contracted to murder and collect his money. His “job” gets complicated when all of a sudden he becomes the target. He is now on a mission—even if it kills him—to find out who is after him and why. He’s the best in the business so getting to him won’t be so easy. Suspense Magazine was lucky enough to chat with Mr. Hinshelwood. Check out what he has to say. Suspense Magazine (S.MAG.): What was the biggest struggle you had when writing “The Killer”? Tom Hinshelwood (T.H.): The biggest struggle I had when writing “The Killer” probably involved the central character, Victor. I wanted him to be a pure anti-hero, someone who would really stand out from conventional genre protagonists, a character who could easily be the bad guy in a different book. Of course, the problem with that is bad guys—by their very definition—aren’t very likeable. Yet, “The Killer” is still Victor’s story and as such the reader needed to be able to root for him despite his nefarious profession. That was a tough one to crack. S.MAG.: How many times did you change your plot, after you started writing “The Killer”? T.H.: The basic premise of it stayed the same from inception to completion, though the plot itself did undergo a number of changes throughout the writing and editing process. I think changing the plot is inevitable when writing a novel— especially first novels—because no one really knows how to do it when they first sit down to write one. Writing—like any skill—improves with experience and first-time authors are, by definition, inexperienced in their craft even if they’ve come from some other writing background. By the time an author finishes his or her first book they are considerably more adept at their craft than when they began. Therefore, changes to the original story are not only inevitable, but essential if the book is to be as good as it can be. I couldn’t tell you the exact number of changes I made to “The Killer’s” plot, because I really don’t know, but what I can tell you is that number would be considerable. S.MAG.: What book has changed your life? T.H.: The book that changed my life has to be “The Silmarillion” by J.R.R. Tolkien. I was blown away by its breadth and detail, and to this day I’m still in awe of Tolkien’s imagination. I read “The Lord of the Rings” previously and that really struck a cord with me, but “The Lord of the Rings” is merely the tip of the iceberg of Tolkien’s achievement. He created a whole world and its inhabitant, their languages, history, gods and legends. “The Lord of the Rings” offers glimpses of this mythology, whereas “The Silmarillion” is that mythology. No book before or since has ever astounded me in the same way. S.MAG.: What is the worst job you ever had? T.H.: This is the hardest question to answer because I’ve had several jobs that could qualify. The first job I ever had was in a vinegar factory and not only was the work very physically demanding, but the heat was horrendous. It was summer, there was no air conditioning, the machinery radiated heat and the few fans did little more than push hot air around. That said, it made for a great weight-loss program. Another time I worked in a factory that produced pre-packed salad. The entire factory floor was refrigerated to keep the salad fresh. It was so cold the skin on my hands and feet would split open. That was bad. To learn more about Tom Hinshelwood's work check out his website at http://www.tomhinshelwood.com. 


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SPIRIT OF THE BADGE: 60 True Police

Stories of Divine Guidance, Miracles & Intuition “Oddities, ‘gotchas’, tears and inspiration: Ingrid Dean has captured them all in this great collection for those of us who care about the dedicated folks living their lives on the street in law enforcement. A great read!” Lynn Marcy, Marcy Consulting Services

By Ingrid P. Dean A Detroit police officer miraculously walks away from a barrage of Uzi bullets, even though they were aimed directly at him. An Ontario conservation officer loses his badge, only to find it one hundred miles north from where he lost it; he finds the badge in an eagle’s nest that had fallen down with a tree—in a wooded area he’d never been to before. A polygraph examiner interviews an unlikely murder suspect that a psychic finds by intuiting his name. The subject becomes a very likely suspect after the polygraph. Talented, committed police officers and polygraph examiners—public and private—have a fond appreciation for the human psyche. Thus, I am writing this commentary because I know police officers, polygraph examiners, and their friends and family, would enjoy reading these types of stories. “Spirit of the Badge: 60 True Police Stories of Divine Guidance, Miracles & Intuition” began as my M.A. culminating project in Transpersonal Studies and then became a book. The “transpersonal” is an area of psychology that explores “beyond the person”, which includes anything metaphysical, paranormal, synchronistic and/or unexplainable—any conditions that are still mysteries to the human psyche. As both a twenty year police officer and polygraph examiner for the Michigan State Police, I see how misunderstood our positions can be. The media has done nothing, really, but exploit our professions rather than actually examine the human being behind the job—let alone notice the true miracles we sometimes see! Police officers and polygraph examiners often see things that others do not see. We understand that the most unlikely things can occur and some things are not what they appear to be. During my research project, I found that not all officers or polygraph examiners saw things exactly like I did from a religious or spiritual point of view, but they usually had no difficulty sharing their transpersonal experiences. The collection of true police stories in this book reflect how we respond to unforeseen circumstances and how these instances require awareness, objectivity and an intimate knowing of self. The stories are indeed, exceptional human experiences. The chapters include angels and apparitions, dreams and intuition, healing with humor, lessons of the heart, symbols/signs/ synchronicity and unexplainable phenomena. Do you have an unusual story that falls under any of these chapters? Would you put a copy of this book in your police waiting room so that people can read it? This is an inspirational book and not a religious one. The messages are very healing and profound. Special Offer: I will ship you a free copy of this book if you submit an exceptional police story that fits under one of the category chapters listed and is chosen for printing in the next book. The stories should be emotionally-evoking and have a miracle value of their own. I can only publish a series of books like this with everyone’s help. If interested, please contact me personally through any of the below-mentioned methods. To Order Book and/or Audio book: Go to my website www.spiritofthebadge.com and click “Order Book”, or contact me by phone (231) 946-2115 or E-Mail: [email protected]. The book makes a wonderful gift to both police and non-police officers!!!

“A humanizing portrayal of police officers who relate in their own words their experiences of mysterious or unexplained phenomena, amazing coincidences, or cases where their sixth sense of intuition saved them [and others] from harm.” Phillip D. Schertzing, Ph.D. – Michigan State University School of Criminal Justice

New Author

Ingrid Dean Interview By: Suspense Magazine

Ingrid Dean is a detective from Michigan who started compiling stories from other police officers and their experiences in the field. All of the stories in the book are true and very emotional. Ingrid did an excellent job of really getting not just the business side of the police, but the emotional side as well. “Spirit of the Badge” is a one of a kind book. Her website www.spiritofthebadge.com is packed full of information, along with video interviews about the book. The inspirational message and reactions from the officers themselves is the real heart of the book. It is beautifully written and Ingrid is an author on the rise. Using more than twenty years of police experience, she has crafted a book that will amaze the reader and leave them wanting more. We are so glad that we read this book and proud to have Ms. Dean as a featured new author. Suspense Magazine (S.MAG.): Do you ever have nightmares about the stories that you come across? Ingrid Dean (I.D.): I do once in a while. My nightmares seem to always involve me as an accused criminal of mistaken identify. I think because I am both a police officer and a police polygraph examiner, I see that there is an element of criminal behavior in everyone and that our hat and uniform are mere disguises for who we really are. My nightmares "toy" with this idea and are often triggered by particularly gruesome cases that I am working on or have talked with people about. For instance, last night I had a dream related to a serial killer cold case I have been working on. In the dream, I was trying to move the remains of a dead body that I was under suspicion for killing. In the dream, I didn't do it, but I felt I had to move the body because there was so much suspicion directed at me—a police officer—that I felt there was no other way to avoid additional suspicion for this crime I did not do. It was a dream of great frustration and fear of being shamed. As I moved the body, blood started leaking through the burlap bag I had put the remains in. As it leaked, my friends saw the blood and did not know what to think. I lied and told them it was animal blood. I didn't want them to think I had done anything wrong and was so distressed. In this dream I felt I had to lie about everything to protect myself. In the actual cold case I'm working on, the perpetrator was particularly gruesome in how he killed people and there was a lot of blood. I believe that other officers fight with these kinds of nightmares because of the intense duality of our job (i.e. right/ wrong, good/bad, innocent/guilty, truth/lie, tangible/intangible). The core psychological issue for most police officers is also that of shame. Mix shame, blood and guts, and we can have some pretty hellacious dreams. S.MAG.: Do you have any cold cases that you are writing about? I.D.: The cases I am writing about right now are not necessarily "cold cases", but rather true crime or police situations in which miraculous, unbelievable things occur that help resolve or close out an investigation (phenomena like intuition, synchronicity, dreams, ghosts, guardian angels, etc.) things that scientists would probably shirk at.


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New Author In one situation I wrote about, an officer arrived at an accident scene, ran to a smoking vehicle, almost on fire and was assisted by a man with a crowbar. The officer was so grateful the man was there. They pried open the door, EMS ran up and helped extricate the driver and she was saved. EMS and ambulances pulled up right behind the officer as he was running up to the vehicle and prying open the door with this man. After everything was over, however, the officer asked EMS personnel where the man was who helped him pry open the door. The EMS personnel were totally confused and then said, "Have you been drinking in the early morning hours?" and tried laughing him off. The police officer was dead serious and just looked at them in the uncomfortable silence. Various EMS personnel stated, "There was no man" and "What are you talking about? We watched you pry open the door by yourself. We illuminated our spotlights on you while doing this. Then we helped you extricate the driver." Who was the man and why couldn't anyone else see him? If you are a police officer or first responder and have had an unexplainable experience occur while working, please contact me at www.spiritofthebadge.com. A filmmaker has expressed interest in doing re-enactments for us in a television series, but I can not do this myself. I need assistance from fellow officers and first responders in order to show this unique and mysterious perspective of our jobs. S.MAG.: Have you thought of switching from true crime to fiction? I.D.: There is so much interesting true crime and unexplainable phenomena that occurs in both present and past police work that writing fiction does not interest me at all. In fact, I do not read a lot of fiction unless it's a classic or particularly well-written and creative. I usually only read fiction if it has a deep message or unusual perspective regarding the human psyche. There are so many inspirational, suspenseful, exceptional human experiences in the world to be shared. I would rather read, write, connect, and personally participate in life's adventures rather than dream and fantasize about "made-up" ones. I believe that all of our lives should be an incredible adventure of mystery and intrigue and those we can all create and write about these adventures ourselves! Why fictionalize? S.MAG.: What book has changed your life? I.D.: When I was ten years old, I read the "Autobiography of a Yogi". I was never the same person since. S.MAG.: Is the truth really stranger than fiction? I.D.: Yes. What we consider or believe to be the "truth" can become a manifestation in what I call our "hallographic", material world. This is what is so strange about the truth. The power of the imagination and fantasy is way beyond what we comprehend and really understand right now. We are—individually and collectively—much bigger than who we think we are. Thus, it becomes very strange, indeed, to see what we can help manifest and materialize just from our own thoughts and feelings, whether it is crime or anything else. We can create each other's prosperity and help heighten human consciousness. Why fictionalize and imagine more crime? There is enough true crime, past and present, to perk our curiosity. Personally, we can transform true crime into something more productive for our world, like transforming crime into miraculous healings. “Spirit of the Badge” is not the normal blood and guts you would find in a true crime book. Instead this is an emotional journey through real stories, in which we are able to find out the struggles of police life. We encourage everyone to visit her website and get a copy of her book “Spirit of the Badge”. We thank Ingrid for allowing us the opportunity to speak with her. We will keep an eye on Ingrid Dean and give updates when we have them. 

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By Amanda Crum

The day the sun exploded, I was skinny dipping with a man who is not my husband. We both told our respective other halves a lie about where we were going. For me it was a trip to my sister’s—who is my husband’s least favorite person in the world—and then met around noon at a lake in the woods. It was our place, had always been ours. I had never seen another living soul during our meetings there, unless you count a few squirrels. It was the perfect spot for us to rendezvous, hidden at the end of a dirt lane as it was and surrounded by a group of tall trees which shrouded the lake in cool, damp-smelling shade. Sometimes, if I arrived first, I would undress and lie down on the soft carpet of grass, stretching like a cat in the shafts of sunlight filtering through the tree limbs. In that time, the sun was my lover, worshipping every hidden curve and secret place on my body. I would close my eyes as a gentle breeze floated off the surface of the lake and caressed my skin. It was—I imagined— what heaven must be like. I felt at peace there in a way I never could at home. If Revel happened to find me that way, already nude and waiting for him, I could count on him keeping me busy for the rest of the afternoon, our hands and mouths in perpetual motion. It was how he found me on that day. I sensed rather than heard his approach. He knelt over me and I opened my eyes to find him smiling down at me, his dark hair unruly from the ride in his Jeep. The sun crouched behind a cloud and I shivered in the shadows that fell from the trees, feeling gooseflesh rise on my skin. Revel bent and kissed my throat, his hand already going where I wanted it. This was our typical hello. We didn’t bother much with words. Words were for a husband and wife. **** After, we swam. When we got out, I laid down and turned over onto my stomach and rested my cheek on the cool grass while his fingertips stroked my back. For a moment I imagined how it would be if he and I were married to each other, to wake up every morning in the same position I was in and have him touch me that way, and then I banished the thought. Marriage wasn’t for us. There was a reason I had a husband and a lover; they each provided me with something the other couldn’t: a sort of comfort, I suppose. He interrupted my thoughts with a single jarring sentence, “You should leave him.” I turned my head to look at him, to see if he was joking. His mouth was turned up in the barest of smiles, but his eyes were completely serious. “That’s not going to happen,” I said softly. “And I think you know it.” His mouth tensed, fell out of the smile it had almost turned into. “You won’t even consider it? That’s not fair, Elise.” I sat up, not bothering to cover my nudity. He had seen every 30


part of me. I had nothing to hide. “You knew how it was when we started this, Revel. I can’t just leave. There’s too much at stake.” He shook his head in disbelief and stood up to pull on his jeans. “That’s bullshit. The only thing at stake is your joint checking account.” “That’s totally unfair,” I said. I was hurt, but the anger stung more. After all this time, he really knew nothing about me. “Why are you doing this now? We’ve had a wonderful time and things are perfect just the way they are. I don’t want to screw it up by getting feelings involved.” It was his turn to look hurt. “My feelings have been involved since the beginning, Elise. This wasn’t just a fling for me, you know. I have things at stake too, but I risked everything to be with you.” I looked down at my hands and suddenly thought of my husband and how he looked that morning before I left the house, tired and unshaven. He had been working ungodly hours, which was part of the reason I was able to do as I pleased in the afternoons. When I was with Revel, my home life always seemed so mundane and I rarely gave a thought to James and what he might be doing. But now, for some reason, I wondered. Perhaps it was the rough tone of voice Revel was using with me, so unexpected and hurtful, that made me wish I was somewhere else; even my boring home. “Is this it, then?” he asked. “You’re done with me?” I turned to look at him and wondered what he saw on my face. I honestly couldn’t tell anymore what emotion might turn up there. The wind kicked up and sent the trees into a whispering frenzy above us. Sunlight winked off the little copper rivets on SuspenseMagazine.com

2010

Writing Contest Suspense Magazine is now accepting submissions for the THIRD annual writing contest! Winners will receive the following: Grand Prize: Twelve books (some autographed) from each of the authors of the month for 2010. To keep updated on the authors of the month check out the 2010 Author of the Month page at www.SuspenseMagazine.com. All books are brand new with many coming from the author directly. Second Place: $50.00 gift card to Amazon.com. Third Place: $25.00 gift card to Amazon.com. GUIDELINES: 1. All Stories must be in the suspense/thriller/mystery genre. 2. Stories must be at least 1,500 words and no more than 5,000. You will be able to submit as many stories as you wish. Stories that do not fall within that range will not be considered. 3. Stories must be submitted in the body of your email. ATTACHMENTS WILL NOT BE OPENED. 4. Must have a valid email address, as this is how you will be contacted if you win. 5. Contest runs from March 1, 2010 – December 31, 2010. 6. Winners will be announced in February/March 2011. 7. All stories will be judged by an independent panel. 8. Authors will be notified by email if their story is published online or within the pages of Suspense Magazine. 9. Email all submissions to contest@suspensemagazine. com. 10. Questions should be suspensemagazine.com.

directed

to

editor@

11. The Judges decisions are final. 12. All Stories must be original, any plagiarism will result in disqualification of that story and no additional submissions will be accepted from author.

www.SuspenseMagazine.com 31

Revel’s jeans. I suddenly wished I was alone, that Revel hadn’t come to meet me that day at all. All I wanted was peace. “You don’t have to be so dramatic,” I said. And, at that moment, the sun went supernova and created a dark spot in the sky, a hole that would never be filled again. There was no sound, no earthquake, no screams, no anything at first. Just that black spot. It was sort of anticlimactic. I stood up and grabbed my clothes from the ground and yanked them on hastily, not bothering to check and see if I got all the buttons right. Revel was still standing in the same place, unmoving. His face was shocked and slack and pale beneath his dark hair. “What just happened?” he asked. His voice shook just a bit and I moved toward him to take his hand. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I think the sun just...exploded. Is that possible?” He didn’t answer. There was no answer to give. The sky was darkening rapidly without the sun to light it and I could see several stars beginning to creep out, almost reluctantly. It was as though they knew something wasn’t right. “Dear God,” Revel said softly, and there was nothing to do except stand hand in hand and watch the sky as it spewed forth bits of its largest star. We could see meteor-like pieces of it streaking through the clouds in reddish embers, almost like sparks from a fireworks show. After a few moments we could hear car horns blaring on the highway behind us as confused drivers slowly realized what was happening. I imagined there would be more than a few fender-benders before the day was over. Revel’s hand was sweaty in mine and I shook it off, expecting him to comment on it. He didn’t. More important things were happening. I moved toward the closest tree and leaned against it, taking comfort in its solidity. It was real and wasn’t going anywhere. I closed my eyes and thought again of my husband, who had been my best friend since high school. Where had we gone wrong? There were times, early in our marriage, that I hadn’t been able to imagine my life without him. I remembered our first anniversary, when there had been no money to speak of. We had gone to a cheap motel that offered hot tubs in the rooms and stayed the night, huddled together beneath the cheap comforter because the air conditioner got stuck on sixtyfive degrees and there were no other rooms available. We huddled and giggled and then made love. I felt an ache in my heart and in my bones. I made a mistake and it cost me dearly. The world was ending and my husband didn’t know I was with another man. Suddenly I wanted him there, instead of Revel. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted his voice to tell me everything would be all right. My mind began to move to the things that would happen once the sun didn’t make its return and I shivered as the enormity of it all sank in: we would freeze. Living things would die. Trees would shrivel and perish and so would our natural oxygen supply. Lakes and oceans would overflow and then become sheets of ice. I thought back to my high school biology class and remembered the teacher telling us that if there was one thing humans couldn’t do without, it was water. But he was wrong, I thought. I knew I would trade water for sunshine any day. The darkened sky would be the end of us all. I realized it had been less than five minutes since I last had the sun warming my skin and the reality of it slipped through my heart like an arrow. Yes, there were worse things than not having any water. Far worse.  32


d e r u t a e F ist t r A

Ana Cruz

Interview by: Suspense Magazine

Madrigal to a Bitter Devotion

Fragile Pictures of Silence 34


A

na Cruz of Portugal has completely enchanted Suspense Magazine. One glance at her artwork and you would never dream she is self-taught. Her work is mysterious and dark, while also beautiful and enlightening. Each and every piece holds unimaginable detail, proving Cruz’s hard work and love of her craft. Ana Cruz has been doing digital photo-manipulation since 2005. Her work started from simple curiosity, but an immense passion grew quickly. She works with Photoshop and elements such as real photos, 3D images and digital painting to create her work. Each of these skills was learned from online tutorials and her skills have improved from an immense amount of practice. As Ana puts it, ‘I keep on pushing the level and wanting to go one step further…always trying to be better than before.’ Her drive to perfect her craft shows, each piece is masterful and unbelievably captivating. She has grown to become of the most admired artists on www.deviantart. com and a role model for those interested in photomanipulation.

Serenade of a Shallow Death

Ana describes her art when she states, ‘I express my inner thoughts, my emotions and my secret realms. I love dark & romantic moods, especially with a strong emotional depth.’ She goes on to say, ‘This is my dream, my inner self, my therapy.’ Suspense Magazine (S.MAG.): Have you always been interested in art? Ana Cruz (A.C.): Yes, since a young age I’ve always been interested in the aesthetic part of things that surrounded me, even if at that age I didn’t understand it. I know art has always been a natural part of me, but in life sometimes we don’t always follow our natural trends, either because of other options we have, parents' will, etc. Now I am thirtytwo years old, I have perfect conscience that this is what I want to do, this is my dream and, I’m fighting for it. SuspenseMagazine.com

Heart Shaped Box

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S.MAG.: What drew you to photo manipulation and digital painting? A.C.: I joined the artistic community DeviantArt because some friends led me to it. In the beginning I was only interested in conceptual photography but, after seeing some photo manipulators working and after seeing how beautiful the final result was, I also wanted to give it a try. I fell in love with the style of work and soon I started to learn techniques and building my own style. As I always say, I still want to learn and evolve much more. Art is always a learning process, an evolution of who we are as a person and as an artist. S.MAG.: Looking at your work it’s hard to believe you’re self-taught, how did you teach yourself so much?

From Blood to Fragrance

A.C.: I’ve been working in photo manipulation for almost five years now and in the beginning my artworks were not as close to how they look now. I downloaded many, many tutorials with different techniques, different styles of art, etc. and, along with many hours of daily practice, I could reach to the quality level people see now. I also think, when someone has a natural passion for this and pleasure in what they’re doing, things come out more easily and creations happen with a natural flow; of course the hard work and discipline were necessary… and still are. S.MAG.: The same woman appears in many of your pieces, who is she? A.C.: I use myself as a model very often but, even when I use other models, I try to create a certain similarity, a connection between all my images. All my images tell a story, they are part of me and my emotions so I want them all to be part of a bigger “book” where the character is the same every time I create something new. S.MAG.: What inspires you? A.C.: I guess I’m proud to say my biggest inspiration is myself. I’ve always been a very deep person, with secret realms inside my head; deep emotions and weird states of mind. From that, it’s easy for me to achieve the sceneries that everyone can see in my work.

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Love Destroyed


Music and literature are two big external inspiration sources and they are extremely important to me; they complete me. S.MAG.: Do you have a favorite piece in your collection of work? A.C.: Yes. My favorite piece is called Fragile Pictures of Silence and you can see it among the chosen images for the magazine feature. There’s something special and tragic about that image and I usually admire it for some minutes every day. S.MAG.: Where do you see yourself in ten years? A.C.: I want to expand my horizons, so currently I’m taking a graphic design course. I hope in ten years from now I keep doing my art with the same passion I have now and still have lots of success with it. I hope I’m working in the design and art area, if so I’d be complete and happy. We, at Suspense Magazine, hope you will take the time to learn more about Ana Cruz and her work. Go to www. anacruzarts.com and find out more or email Ana at [email protected]. 


A Taste of Liquid

Blinded by Your Frozen Heart

La Danse Macabre

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Girl in the Cellar

by Allan Hall and Michael Leidig

Review by: Suspense Magazine As if carefully plotted by a master storyteller, picture the scene: it’s early morning and an innocent young girl is making her way to school. Maybe her backpack is slipping from the weight of her schoolbooks as she heads unenthusiastically towards her destination. She’s already focused on her day ahead and only momentarily distracted by the sight of an indistinct white van with a single occupant up ahead. It is close to the entrance of her school so she ignores that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, which urges her to cross the street, and carries on with her original path, straight into the arms of her abductor. Regrettably, this chilling storyline did not develop from the vivid imagination of a great writer, but is all too true and was systematically carried out by a modern day monster. “Girl in the Cellar” is the detailed account of the incomprehensible case of Natascha Kampusch, the ten-year-old girl who was stolen from the streets as she made her way to school in March of 1998. Not your typical true crime novel, “Girl in the Cellar” chronicles the myriad of missteps made by authorities during the almost decade long search for Natascha. If this horrifying situation had been a piece of fiction, the errors of judgment and sloppy police work would be almost comical. Only this wasn’t fiction and the mistakes had very real consequences as Natascha spent her formative years locked in a one room dungeon. After the abduction, the natural course of life began to take hold and the worldwide media frenzy slowly died down on this subject. Only a few held the slim hope of Natascha’s safe return while others prepared for a different form of closure. No one could foresee what was to happen on August 23, 2006 when a waif of a woman, skin and hair dull from lack of sunlight and nutrients arrived at the police station stating that she was indeed eighteen-year-old Natascha Kampusch. Though Hall and Leidig were unable to meet with Natascha face to face, this astonishing account is filled with intimate interviews with her family, authorities and those who had contact with the very real monster, Wolfgang Priklopil. While he took the coward’s way out—committing suicide upon her escape—questions to this day remain unanswered as Natascha, now quick tempered and with an understandably stunted maturity level, refuses to discuss many aspects of their relationship. As readers slide through the pages, Hall and Leidig successfully manage to return Natasha to her rightful position of innocent victim. 

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s e g a P e h t e InpsenisedMagazine Book Reviews Sus

Six Graves to Munich by Mario Puzo

A longtime fan of one of the most recognizable and much loved authors of our time, I was overjoyed when I received “Six Graves to Munich”. This hidden treasure—written prior to “The Godfather” fame—was sadly published under a pseudonym and throughout the years was forgotten. While most of the Puzo collection brilliantly focuses on the trials and tribulations of crime families, “Six Graves to Munich” is written in a different time and has a softer, although much more painful, undertone. Once a man with everything, Michael Rogan now has one goal, one primary focus and breathes solely for vengeance. In what seems like another world, he was once a brilliant man who was able to easily manipulate situations to benefit himself. As a World War II intelligence officer, he found the perfect existence working behind enemy lines. However, he never expected to fall in love and his arrogance proved to be a fatal flaw resulting in the enemy capture of his family. When he becomes the lone survivor of this terrifying ordeal, his goals quickly change and the hunt for retribution begins. “Six Graves to Munich” will keep you spellbound from cover to cover through startling twists and unexpected tenderness as the ghastly tale unfolds. 

The Book of Spies by Gayle Lynds

An avid reader, I find myself fussier when it comes to books that fall under the genre of historical fiction and admit that I am certainly harder to please in this arena. In my opinion, the bar is set much higher when bits and pieces of fact are woven into the fabric of the storyline with the largest challenge for the author being believability. Believability is not an issue for Gayle Lynds or “The Book of Spies”. A masterful blend of bold, fearless characters desperately searching for the Library of Gold kept me intrigued from the start. A sure sign of Lynds greatness is her ability to create amazingly vivid imagery making it effortless for me to share in the beauty of her modern day version of the Library.  SuspenseMagazine.com

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A House to Die For by Vicki Doudera

The last thing that successful, west coast realtor Darby Farr is expecting on a beautiful sunny morning is a deathbed demand from the past. Having fled the small island she grew up on years before, she had no desire to return to her haunting past even in the face of her aunt’s tragic illness and request for assistance. Regardless of her irritation, it is impossible to turn her back on what may be a final bid for help from her long lost Aunt and Darby is compelled to hop on the plane. She soon finds that this simple request isn’t going to be so easy. Grab a pint of ice cream, put on comfy pajamas and enjoy. Light and entertaining, “A House to Die For” is a fun mystery and fantastic way to spend an evening! 

The Girl in Alfred Hitchcock's Shower by Robert Graysmith New York Times bestselling author, Robert Graysmith, best known for his books on the Zodiac killer and Jack the Ripper, takes on the mystery of Janet Leigh's body double from Psycho. In 1960, Marli Renfro appeared as the body double in the famous shower scene. It wasn't until 1988 that she received her most notoriety when she was found to be brutally raped and murdered by a serial killer. But was she really? Graysmith, who has been obsessed with Renfro for the past forty years, attempts to portray a scenario where maybe she wasn't really the victim. This is a hard read as the author attempts to give us background material on the serial killer, Sonny Busch, while telling the story of Renfro. With no real direction and a lack of cohesiveness, it is difficult to maintain enthusiasm for what seemed to be an interesting premise. 

Reckless by Andrew Gross

If you only recognize Andrew Gross’ name from his seven-year writing partnership with James Patterson, it’s time to take a fresh look at this author. “Reckless”, his newest novel, is simply exceptional. Emotionally captivating from the first page, Gross intricately builds layers of tension, dread and suspense as he delves into the worst-case scenario of the world’s financial collapse. Ty Hauck believes he’s happy. At least as happy as he feels he has the right to be, until the morning where his thinly built glass house shatters around him at the incomprehensible death of an old friend. Unable to abandon his memories and past promises, he is compelled to uncover the truth behind the startling murder of this family. Linked by virtually invisible threads, Hauck unknowingly jumps into the depths of a worldwide conspiracy leaving readers breathless. Hitting uncomfortably close to home, Gross rides the waves of anxiety building up to an astonishing and unpredictable conclusion. An unquestionable success, Gross is a novelist to keep an eye on.  40


I'm No Monster by Stefanie Marsh and Bojan Pancevski

I believe it is true that true crime is stranger than fiction and my opinion has not changed after reading “I’m no Monster, the True Story of Josef Fritzl”. The book starts at the end and then works it way back through the astounding events that lead Josef Fritzl to do what he did. Josef Fritzl kidnapped his eighteen-year-old daughter Elisabeth and held her captive in a cellar he built under his house for twenty-four years. Josef was married with other children that lived above the jail cellar and would live the double life for all this time. The story is very interesting to see unfold, because there has to be a lot of people who just don’t see anything in order for something like this to happen. I found it very strange that it was a doctor who discovered the secret and not people close to Josef in his life. The police were not awake either, seeing as how Josef had three charges that were not really pending against him, but that he was being investigated for and this could have stopped if the police just did their job. Josef didn’t hide the fact that he as building a bunker below his house, he sent the plans to the city to get approved. What he didn’t tell them was he was building two extra rooms, which he used to hide his daughter. In that time, Josef was using the excuse he was building a fallout shelter, seeing how Austria was geographically placed in the middle of USSR controlled countries. Josef thought about his plan three months before he actually kidnapped his daughter and on that date he and his daughter were the only two at home. He drugged her and placed her downstairs, the start of what would be seven children/grandchildren and twenty-four years of misery. Josef went to the police claiming his daughter ran away, which could have been true because she had done it years earlier. The police however could do nothing because Elisabeth was over eighteen and could leave anytime. Josef in his mind was using this as punishment for his daughter, because she was the rebel


Review by: Suspense Magazine of the family. This is how in his mind he would justify the brutal acts that he would carry out. The book itself is very difficult to read, because the first one hundred pages are not that interesting and I felt myself wondering why I picked this book; I even had to read the title a couple of times. Like I mentioned, the book starts out with the capture of Josef Fritzl and then working back through his early life and arrests, his mother and father and a lot of facts that really have nothing to do with the actual story and events that you would expect to see with this kind of story. The book is two hundred forty-six pages, so almost half of the book can be chopped off. Now I don’t blame the writers for the way things were handled in the case, but the writing was not very good and very hard to get through. I found myself putting the book down more than once after a couple of pages, because I really could not take anymore. While the story itself is very frightening and makes you wonder how something like this could happen, it was not portrayed in a good way. I would have liked the book to include more interviews from people close to the scene and ask them how they didn’t notice anything. The part of the book that really got me was Josef, on two occasions, put two of the fathered children from Elisabeth in a cardboard box on his doorstep both with a note from Elisabeth, stating she could not care for the children anymore. Now after the first time would you not start to wonder a couple of things? First, if she is close enough to “run” by the house and drop off two kids, shouldn’t you be looking for her, especially her mother? And second, didn’t Josef ’s wife become a little bit suspicious of this fact? Well the book doesn’t really mention any of this and does another poor job of talking about all the children fathered by him and how his secret could stay safe. I would recommend finding another book on this topic or doing some research yourself. I’m sure you could find much better resources besides this book if the story interests you.  41

MOVIES

Alpha Dog (2006)

Genre – Crime Drama Based on Real Life (R)

Based on the life of Jesse James Hollywood, the drug dealer and murderer who became the youngest man on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. Alpha Dog is based on the real life events, which occurred in California in 2000, but all characters are given new names. Young Middle-class kids run in a tight-knit group, dealing drugs and getting in trouble. Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch playing the fictional Jesse James Hollywood) finds himself in a heated argument with Jake Mazursky (Ben Foster) over drugs and power. Things take a terrible turn when Truelove kidnaps Mazursky’s younger brother to prove his superiority and debates for days on what to do with him. The young Mazursky brother, however, doesn’t understand the seriousness of the situation or the ferociousness of the gang holding him ransom.

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Appearances by some of the best young actors in Hollywood, including a surprise performance by Justin Timberlake makes this an excellent movie. I was stunned as I watched the deplorable behavior by a group of spoiled kids, who either didn’t care or didn’t understand the real consequences of their behavior. The only real problem with this movie is that it’s real, not a made up story, but the real situation that multiple lives, some which were incredibly innocent and unknowing. When the credits rolled, I sat stunned, unsure of why such a deplorable man such as Jesse James Hollywood had been given a film about his life. Alpha Dog is an excellent film, but BEWARE, it will enrage you while also breaking your heart. 

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trade (2007)


Often times the horrors of real life are much more gruesome and harder to view than any piece of random fiction. The beauty of being able to walk out of a movie theatre knowing that the fist clenching storyline was purely the result of an active imagination makes the movie easier to watch. The storyline can be torn apart, laughed at or even criticized based on your view without having to focus on the details. It really doesn’t matter what our opinion is because the horrific scenes were just that…just small moments where the director yelled “cut” and none of it actually happened.

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Unfortunately, that isn’t the case for Trade. This is based on a real story; full of pain, terror, heartache and a glimpse at evil that most of us can’t fathom. It is the story of one young girl—played by Paulina Gaitan—stolen from the streets near her home in Mexico City because of her beauty and youth. Her body, innocence and virginity are worth thousands and movie viewers are given a front row ticket to her entry into the violent world of international sex trafficking. When her brother Jorge—played by Cesar Ramos—discovers her disappearance, he is able to track her into the U.S. and in an unusual case of luck, finds a Texas cop who is willing to help. A longtime fan of Kevin Kline’s work, I am used to seeing him play the part of slapstick comedian (The Pink Panther) and this was a severe step away from his typical character. Kevin, along with the other lesser-known actors, brought this movie to life. Trade and its message will not be easily forgotten.  Suspense Magazine May 2010 / Vol. 011

In Cold Blood (1967)

MOVIES


Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood (1967) was a black and white movie based on the true life murders of the Cutler family filmed in the very house the crime took place in. Robert Blake and Scott Wilson play two compelling rolls as murderer (Blake) and accomplice (Wilson). When writing bad checks on someone else’s account ceases to be enough, the two men come up with a plan to rob an assumed wealthy family. Although Wilson seems to be the instigator, Blake becomes a willing participant and ultimately the trigger man once he loses the “iffy” grip he has on reality. Like a mad man—after they don’t find an alleged safe—Blake goes on a rampage through the house to the different rooms where they have tied up each member. As though on a mission, Blake shoots the father, son, mother and lastly, the daughter.

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They can’t outrun the law; they get pulled over for driving a stolen car after the detective (John Forsythe) figures out they’re the guys who killed the Cutlers. In typical, old-time detective badgering and fudging, the two men sing like canaries. The best part for me was when Blake was talking to the priest about his childhood and father, the window he stood next to, as it poured rain outside, cast just the right shadow to make the rain appear as tears on his face. Very ironic. If you are a sucker for old, black and white movies, or, even if you aren’t, watch this one. I really enjoyed it. 

...And Justice for All (1979) Genre – Crime Drama/Mystery (R)

Director Norman Jewison’s …And Justice for All (1979) starring a very young Al Pacino as honest attorney Arthur Kirkland, is a great movie. Jeffrey Tambourne plays Kirkland’s partner who’s in psychological hell when the man he got off for murder kills again…a child.

Kirkland’s girlfriend—a member of the ethics committee—tells him he needs to defend him because if he doesn’t, the judge could and would ruin his law Not only does he slowly watch his friend and partner career. spiral downwards, he has to deal with an up-tight, playby-the-rules judge played by John Forsythe. A light at the end of the tunnel appears when Kirkland gets his Kirkland has a client whom he’s been trying to get hands on some damaging S&M photographs involving released from prison, but because the corroborating a prostitute, the head of the ethics committee and the evidence he needed to prove his innocence came three judge. He plans on using them as leverage against him. days late, his less than favorite judge went by the book Much to Kirkland’s surprise, the judge is un-phased and and wouldn’t release his client. even hands the photos back to him and confesses his guilt of what he is accused of doing. Needless to say there is no love lost between these two men. However, when the judge is accused of raping and Rent this movie to see what an ethical lawyer does when beating a young girl, Kirkland holds the power when the they’re faced with making a choice.  judge requests him as his attorney…or so he thinks.

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The widely praised New York Times bestseller from

WALTER MOSLEY

“The Long Fall is an astounding performance by a master, a searing X-ray of grasping, conspiratorial New York and of the penitent soul of a wily, battle-scarred private-eye. Dark: because it takes us express to the lower depths. Beautiful: because Mosley never leaves us without light. This is, simply, Mosley’s best work yet.” —JuNoT Díaz

NOW AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK Leonid McGill is an ex-boxer and a hard drinker looking to clean up his act. He’s an old-school P.I. working a New York City that’s gotten a little too fancy all around him. But it’s still full of dirty secrets, and as McGill unearths them, his commitment to the straight and narrow is going to be tested to the limit...

“Fans won’t be disappointed . . . The Long Fall is a well-written twists-and-turns story that runs up to a satisfying conclusion.” —uSa ToDaY

“one of his finest novels to date.” —THe BoSToN GLoBe

“once you start reading this mystery, you won’t want to stop.” —LIBrarY JourNaL

And look for Known to Evil, now in hardcover from Riverhead Books

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978-0-451-23025-6/$14.00 ($17.50 Can)

FROM NEW AMERICAN LIBRARY

PACE:

Ten Surefire Ways to Keep the Pages Turning

By Andrew Gross

S

uspense Magazine is proud and honored to bring you the brilliant thoughts of how to keep your manuscript moving (pace) by Andrew Gross. Andrew has given EVERY writer a trillion-dollar offering. When my agent sent PACE: Ten Surefire Ways to Keep the Pages Turning to me, my very FIRST thought was…please don’t make me edit this! Knowing me as well as she does, she told me to ‘just read it for enjoyment.’ Whew! I must confess, seeing the structure and how it is clearly written as a “formula” including— but not limited to—minuses and equal signs, I was hesitant and doubtful I’d enjoy it—with math being my least favorite subject. I have never been more pleased to be so mistaken in my life! With wit, charm, hilarity and a boatload of truth, Andrew has managed to break down the very ins and outs of developing your manuscript’s pace. How lucky is every aspiring and current author with the sharing of his wisdom? In doing so and without realizing it, he’s given us more time and by extension, knowledge to work on other points in our manuscripts: character development, scene setting, etc. How many times have we all stared at a blank screen or piece of paper? Or read a chapter and couldn’t figure out where we went wrong? Can you wallpaper Trump Tower with all the rejection letters your manuscripts have gotten? Think of all the colorful expletives you used after opening your one hundredth rejection. Now the hard thought…maybe your story lacked the “page-turning” muscle Andrew is talking about. Am I saying that his way is THE way? Absolutely not! But when you read this, you’ll see he breaks down how YOU can make YOUR story reader-active. Keeping those pages turning and the reader thrilled they chose your book is, after all, what it’s all about. (Critiqued by Terri Ann Armstrong for Suspense Magazine @ www.suspensemagazine.com) *** SuspenseMagazine.com

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OKAY, HERE’S HOW IT’S GONNA GO. I’m gonna talk about how to elevate the PACE in your books. I’m going to break PACE into two categories: structural, or how you order or organize the book and syntactical, meaning your sentence structure and prose style. And I’m going do my best and try and say TWO OR THREE smart things in the next forty minutes…that’s all. The rest is just gonna be filler for me to get to the Q and A where you can say some smart things. And I’m even gonna say those two things up front, so if you’re compelled to leave, to catch someone else’s talk, feel free to go. And the first of those smart things—I hope—is…there is absolutely no right or wrong when it comes to pace. Slow or fast. It’s only a matter of what you want to accomplish in your book. THE BEST PACE, like a referee in a hockey or basketball game, is the pace you don’t notice; when it never intrudes on your enjoyment of the game. IT’S THE SAME WITH PACE. Another “smart” thing: EVERYTHING IN A BOOK IS A TRADE OFF. A trade off of what the reader will accept and what you are trying to accomplish. You can layer deeper character detail or richer back story in, have more elaborate scene setting or descriptive passages. You can describe homes in Architectural Digest details, how someone is dressed as if it’s an article in GQ, but everything has a trade-off. And that trade off is—it slows down the pace. Conversely, you can strip down the prose to nothing but simple sentences and robotic, declarative dialogue and action. That may speed it up, but then the book lacks richness and texture. It sounds simple, but it’s about balance. And your goals. If you want pages to turn, really turn, something has to give. SO THE RIGHT PACE IS THE BALANCE THAT’S RIGHT FOR YOU TO ACCOMPLISH YOUR OWN GOALS. I’m not going to attempt to define what pace is; to me, that’s a waste of time. It’s sort of like pornography… can’t define it, but know it when you see it! BUT AMERICANS LIKE NUMBERS AND I HAVE SPENT YEARS WORKING OUT A COMPLEX MATHEMATICAL ALGORITHM THAT DISPLAYS WITH 100% MATHEMATICAL CERTAINTY, PRECISELY WHAT PACE IS. AND I WANT YOU TO MEMORIZE IT AND REFLECT ON IT WHEN YOU’RE STUCK OVER YOUR BOOK AS TO WHAT TO LEAVE IN AND WHAT TO LEAVE OUT: S (G – B)2 U – N2 WHERE…: S = speed G = the point where the good guy stumbles onto a crime B = the point where the good guy finally kills the bad guy DIVIDED BY: U = defined as the writerly urge to use self-indulgent or overly descriptive language, and Ns = the number of times he/she gets to have sex in the book. THIS IS PACE, ladies and gentlemen. Learn to recognize it when you see it! It is the speed at which the hero first comes on the crime until he follows the clues, solves the puzzle, chases down and kills the bad guy–over, all that stuff that a good editor editor would eliminate minus the frequency of sex. HELLO. SIMPLE. Don’t laugh, it’s actually true. 46


Now if that’s not enough, that may tell you what pace is, but it doesn’t really help you because it doesn’t tell you how to actually measure the rate of pace. For that I have another equally timed honed algorithm. W (A) Sk – $$ Where, in this formula: W = amount of Words Times, A = the number of Actions, or what, ladies and gentlemen, the duration of your plot. Over: Sk = With apologies to Elmore Leonard, the parts that readers tend to skip! Minus $ = the dollar amt. if you happen to have one of those old-fashioned contracts where you are actually paid by the word. Which you don’t. So don’t worry about it. That was just a joke! Now in this formula, it’s important to further define Sk The parts readers tend to skip. In its place you could easy substitute in: I = too much Information. You do not need to take your reader through complex derivative analysis just because you are going to kill off a hedge fund manager. You do not need to show you reader you’re not really a writer, but an arms expert because your hero uses a gun. You can do it. You can give the historical background to the building your character is walking into, but it does what—it slows down the pace. Sk can also be recorded as SH = showing off. Or, B = plain old BORING SH (showing off) is when you try to slip in some slick and artsy prose for the reviewers that doesn’t really advance the plot, which is okay, but please, not when the bad guy’s hands are tight around the hero’s throat. That creates Ir. Irritating to the reader. And trust me; you’re not likely to get reviewed anyway. For those who think more linearly, another way to look at this is the continuum line between P and p. Big P

small p

Big P we will call…Marcel Proust. Small p is James Patterson. Sorry Jim. THESE ARE THE TWO ABSOLUTE ANTIPODES OF PACE! PROUST, as we know, took 30 pages to describe the joy of eating a cracker. With PATTERSON, in the same thirty pages, you get ten chapters, two murders and three chase scenes! The point is… THERE’S NO RIGHT OR WRONG WHEN IT COMES TO THEIR PACE. It’s all a matter of what they are trying to accomplish. SuspenseMagazine.com

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Without his pace, Proust would never have gotten a trilogy and without his, JP might still be in advertising. BUT WHAT IS ESSENTIAL, Smart Point #3…is to make sure your goals and what you want to accomplish are aligned. If you go for speed, your prose has to back it up. If you’re going for something else, your sentence and structure should reflect that too. It would not work in a mannered, literary novel set in a languorous garden in Yorkshire, for the character to: “I got to the end of the hedge. I looked both ways. I saw no one coming. My heart started to race. I turned, heading under the rhododendron…” Now I said pace is both STRUCTURAL AND SYNTACTICAL. By structure, I mean how your book is organized or its plot developed. This can be a PACE accelerator too. By syntax, I mean, your writing style. How does STRUCTURE help create pace? CRISP, SHORT CHAPTERS. CULLING CHAPTERS TO SINGLE SCENES STRIPPED DOWN TO THEIR ELEMENTAL, DRAMATIC CORE. GETTING IN AND OUT OF THOSE CHAPTERS FAST. A CLOSE-IN, FIRST PERSON POINT OF VIEW. (Helps make you FEEL what is happening. Creates immediacy.) And how does SYNTAX help create pace? Sentence structure should mirror what is happening at that moment in the book. If you’re in a chase scene, don’t weigh it down with turgid, complex sentences. Simple sentences. Short thoughts in the mind of the characters. It’s sort of obvious except how many times in the heat of a final chase scene, do you come across some endless, weird, overwrought sentence with a lot of indirect clauses and by the end of it, someone has a gun you didn’t know even had one, or someone’s lying on the floor I DIDN’T KNOW WAS SHOT! It makes you go back and re-read the thing and go, what just happened? Which supports my last, obvious, but sometimes overlooked thing: If you’re going for PACE, never take your reader out of the narrative. MAKE YOUR WRITING STYLE FIT EXACTLY WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE BOOK Like I said, everything the writer does reflects a trade-off. Yes, I could have spent more time on the hero’s relationship with his brother. Yes, I could have deepened my back story. But I did what I thought was right— given that what’s important for me is for people to keep turning pages. Not to find a reason to put the book down. On the other hand, it seems fair that three page chapters and short declarative sentences will not get you short listed to the National Book Award or Booker Prize! NOW, I GO FOR SPEED. I like my books to be devoured in two or three sittings. NOT IN ONE! THREE! I GUESS I DO WANT THEM TO BE SAVORED JUST A BIT. So here we are. I said I was going to give you TEN SUREFIRE WAYS to keep your pages turning. To create PACE. So here they are: I said to think of them both in terms of structure and syntax. So in no particular order… 48


1. SHORT, LINKING, DRAMATIC CHAPTERS. End on a hook that makes the reader want to turn to the next page. Enticing the reader to go further than intended is the surest form of PACE. 2. THE SCENE. Eliminate whatever does not directly advance the story. Cull it down to its elemental dramatic core. Whether it’s two pages or ten. 3. YOUR WRITING SHOULD REFLECT PRECISELY WHAT IS GOING ON. When the scene calls for speed, write with it! Action scenes should utilize crisp, understandable sentences. Not where somewhere in the middle of some LONG, inscrutable, run-on sentences, someone has pulled out a gun. NEVER pull the reader out of the narrative. Do not make him go back and scratch his head and ask, “Where did that gun come from?” Or, “How did we get over here?” Conversely, it’s okay, of course, to use a richer, more complex style when the situations call for it—if you can pull it off. Or unless it’s about SEX. The goal, gals, as we all know, is try and REMOVE too much pace from sex! :) 4. DON’T BOG THE NARRATIVE FLOW DOWN by showing off, being boring, injecting an unnecessary description unless it is directly called for. If the reader is turning the pages to find out what happens, give them what they want to read! Give them what YOU would want to read! 5. Which brings us to the following, with all credit to Elmore Leonard, “Try and eliminate the parts readers tend to skip.” 6. PARE, PARE, PARE. Learn that there is nothing more fun than the elimination of all those precious, hard-to-come-by words and paragraphs. Sometimes even a single extra word can stand out, slow a sentence down and draw attention to itself. You know, in your heart, when you are being self-indulgent or trying to show off. We all do it. Well, the reader knows it too. Keep it in the first draft! Again, do not take the reader out of the narrative. 7. DO NOT OVERPROVIDE INFORMATION. Make sure what is interesting to you is not boring to the reader. I always find there is too much data. Decide what details you need and maybe cut it in half. I sometimes write about financial things, being that my books take place in Greenwich and my characters can be hedge fund managers or lawyers with appropriate schemes. But I try and give the reader what they need in ONE PARAGRAPH. Not pages! 8. ORIENT THE READER quickly when you begin a scene. Don’t make them guess. Don’t make them figure out, who’s talking, where they are or what may have taken place. Root the reader in the scene immediately. Anytime they are not, it’s taking them out of the narrative. Slowing down pace. 9. KNOW WHAT EACH CHAPTER, OR SCENE, IS SUPPOSED TO DELIVER. And don’t try and make it do more. Don’t weight down chapters with too many scenes—I do one, and don’t weight down scenes by staying in too long. 10. And lastly, the final, surefire way to get those pages turning faster, if all else fails. USE A LARGER FONT! Hope some of this has been helpful and here’s to your pages speeding up!

We here at Suspense Magazine thank Andrew for allowing us to share his wisdom with you. You can learn more about him and his books by visiting http://www.andrewgrossbooks.com/. 


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NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER

“TED DEKKER IS A TRUE MASTER OF THRILLERS.”

—NELSON DEMILLE, New York Times bestselling author of The Gate House

Available in hardcover, as an audiobook, and as an eBook

facebook.com/teddekker

Center Street is a division of Hachette Book Group

ART: GEORGE KERRIGAN

four beautiful women have been murdere d... and he ’s just getting started.

Chiller Thrillers from the World of

Ted Dekker

Interview By: Suspense Magazine


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T

I’m sure you will enjoy it.

he suspense/thriller genre is a very difficult one to crack, without moving into more horror to get the desired effect the writer is looking for. Ted Dekker however is one of the few writers that can do this to perfection. His latest book “The Bride Collector” will not only leave you up all night to finish, but also because you are scared to death. His previous book “The BoneMan’s Daughter” was a huge success, so he had the pressure on with his latest book. The good news is that Ted delivered another bestseller and his fans will flock to the store to grab this one. He has been called “The Master of Suspense” while starting his career writing fantasy books. His popularity is growing with every suspense/thriller book written and has to now be considered one of the top writers in the world today. It was great that he took some time out of his busy schedule to give us an interview. I have to say that Ted was one of the best interviews we have ever had, so

Suspense Magazine (S.MAG.): Your villain in the “The Bride Collector” was very well written, did you think of him first and write the story around him? Ted Dekker (T.D.): No, but I did want to create a villain whose philosophy of life was very sympathetic. One that we could all identify with and who in many ways represented truth. And, as such, he’s a sympathetic character. So, the story is as much about him as it is the other characters and we spend a lot of time in his mind. S.MAG.: Parts of the “The Bride Collector” were very scary, what scares you? T.D.: Situations don’t scare me as much as loss. Like the loss of a child or the loss of my wife. Loss of life and dignity. I’m not so much afraid of seeing a boogie man come out of the closet as I am imagining what that boogie man might do to my world. Those imaginations are fleshed out in my books, which are a safe way to examine the “what ifs” of life. S.MAG.: Did you do any “on site” research for this book? T.D.: I spent time with a psychiatric professional who specializes in the criminally insane. And I read many books on mental illness, the most fascinating of which was The Center Will Not Hold by Elyn Saks. But if we’re honest, all of us are a bit upside-down deep inside 52


and finding that part of me and putting it on the page was what this book was about. S.MAG.: What can your fans expect from you in the near future? T.D.: I write in two genres. One is mystery thrillers like “Bride Collector” and the other is fantasy, which are also thrillers. You’ll see one of each coming from me each year. This year, for the first time in paperback mass market, readers will be able to buy “Adam” and “Thr3e”, both psychological thrillers and my next hardcover thriller will be “The Priest’s Graveyard”, which comes out April 2011. S.MAG.: What is the worst job you have ever had? T.D.: Working road construction in Northern Canada, picking rocks off the side of the road for two months, seven days a week, twelve hours a day. Suffice it to say, I lived in hell for two months and hated every moment and survived to become a man, a warrior, a slayer of many beasts. Well, slayer of rocks at least. But in my mind, every one was a beast. We would like to thank Ted for this interview. We encourage all of our readers to pick up “The Bride Collector” and enter the world of Ted Dekker, because once you do, you won’t want to leave.  Suspense Magazine Review on “The Bride Collector”

Ted Dekker delivers another thrilling ride in his latest book “The Bride Collector”. From the beginning of the book to the end, you get taken on an emotional roller coaster. Dekker has many characters in the book and does an incredible job of giving all of them life outside the book. FBI Agent Brad Raines is in search of a killer that is leaving no clues, just a path of terrifying killings that will hit very close to home for Raines. Raines has to take unconventional steps to search out this killer, which leads him to incorporate the help of patients in a private psychiatric institution. These patients however are not violent, but they are very gifted. This is where we meet Paradise, a disturbed girl that has been in the institute for seven years. Her ability to touch the dead and relive their last moments is especially intriguing to Raines. What Raines did not count on was how he would start having deeper emotional feelings for Paradise. It then becomes clear the killer is writing a script that will include seven killings, so every second can’t be wasted. Raines has no idea that every move he makes is exactly the move the killer wants him to make. “The Bride Collector” will be considered on of the best suspense/thriller books written in 2010. SuspenseMagazine.com

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Mario Gianluigi Puzo Mario Gianluigi Puzo was born in 1920 in Manhattan, NY. He is best known for writing the “The Godfather”, which when written might not have been considered a non-fiction book, but in looking back at it now, it has to been considered as close to non-fiction as you can get. Growing up in the “hells kitchen” part of NY, Mario was able to create his books from real life experiences. “The Godfather” was actually Mario’s third book and mentioned in an interview that his motivation for the book was to make money. Aside from the mafia style writing, Mario was also the co-writer for Richard Donner’s “Superman the Movie” and the original draft for “Superman II”. Mario wrote two sequels to “The Godfather” called, “The Sicilian” and “Omerta”. It was after he finished the book “Omerta” that Mario Puzo died. He never saw the finished publication of this book. In 1967 Mario wrote the book, “Six Graves to Munich” under the pen name Mario Cleri. In May of this year, this book is being reprinted and put out under his real name. It is clear that Mario Puzo is that standard by which all other writers of crime/fiction hope to obtain. He has to be considered one of the greatest American writers of all time, not because of the success of “The Godfather”, but because his stories have such life and passion. It would be impossible to count how many authors, TV shows, movies, etc. have come out and tried to imitate Mario Puzo’s work and style, without success. There will only ever be one “Mona Lisa” as there will only ever be one Mario Puzo. He died in 1999 at the age of seventy-eight, but his books will continue onward for many future generations to enjoy. We are very honored to induct Mario Puzo into the Suspense Magazine Hall of Fame.  54


New Criminologist: The Online Journal of Criminology

By: Amanda Goossen

Turn on the television at ten o’clock at night and I guarantee you will be bombarded with crime television. Dateline NBC, 48 Hour Mystery, Primetime and 20/20 will show viewers hour-long episodes of True Crime incidents. Law & Order, NCIS, Criminal Minds and many other primetime shows are carefully crafted using bits and pieces of actual crimes to form storylines and capture your attention. Whether you consider yourself a diehard fan of true crime or not, you probably don’t realize that most of the entertainment you consume on a daily basis is based off real life incidents or is at the very least inspired by factual events. True Crime captivates and to fill this insatiable need is The New Criminologist, An Online Journal of Criminology. Newcriminologist.com takes you to a world of crime, written by leading experts in the field, police detectives, professors, government officials and many more. New Criminologist has brought information on crime to readers for over four decades and prides itself on the quality of its writing. Among the leading authorities that have written for New Criminologist is The Honorable Robert F. Kennedy, former Attorney General of the United States. His last article for the journal was just a few months before his assassination on June 5, 1968. Steven Morris is the publisher and editor of The New Criminologist, as well as a freelance writer. Launched online in 2005 The New Criminologist has grown to be the largest true crime site of its kind. Morris is the man who connects the sites enormous group of contributors all over the world, as well as the head of their “Organized Crime” database that will soon be the largest in the world. Morris is an expert in the psychology of crime, an international authority on the study of serial murder and abhorrent sexual crime and a renowned author of books and articles. His most recent project focuses on the ‘Amityville Horror’ murderer, Ronald DeFeo Jr. Steven Morris has established close contact with the murderer, who promises extraordinary access to him and his stories. It promises to be the definitive work on Amityville Horror. The New Criminologist is a gem among a Google search filled with True Crime sites. Its in-depth articles on both new and past crimes allows readers to research the intriguing mysteries and most malicious men of old, while also reading up on current events. Its unbelievable library will stun even the most polished history buff. I, myself, spent hours going from one story to another. Where else can you read the most fascinating peak into Jack the Ripper you’ve ever seen as well as get information on the concerns of Spring Break in Mexico becoming a major concern? How often are readers given the option to check out 2010 Crime Dramas while also sneaking a peak at crime around the world? This website is thrilling. It is real. It is a massive resource than even the most mild true crime fan can enjoy! Go to www.newcriminologist.com to discover all the facts, impeccable writing talent and unimaginable True Crime gore that The New Criminologist has to offer. Subscriptions can be purchased to receive access to all the tantalizing facts.  SuspenseMagazine.com

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Andrei Chikatilo By: Steven Morris

He said he had an older brother, whose famineravaged corpse was devoured by starving peasants. He fantasized about corralling German prisoners of war, taking them out into the forests and executing them. Murder and cannibalism were things he could identify with, dream about, keep close and grow with. He killed fifty-three people between 1978 and 1990. As the killings increased in number, so the killer’s signature increased in its barbarism. The familiar, frenzied stabbing was ever present but was now accompanied by mutilation. Victims were missing nipples, tips of tongues, genitals. Were these body parts taken as trophies to be treasured or was cannibalism now a feature, with the murderer cutting, chewing and swallowing? Sometimes eyes had been ripped out. Was this more than a demonstration of power over his victims; was it an attempt to prevent them from ‘seeing’, witnessing the psychological descent of their slayer? And, if this was the case did this mean a conscience lurked somewhere in the mind of the monster, a weakness to be suppressed at all costs? Andrei Romanovich Chikatilo was born in the village of Yablochnoye, Ukraine, on 16 October 1936, shortly before the Soviet Union went to war with Germany. Baby Andrei was born with an oddly misshapen cranium; “water on the brain” it was called. He was a frequent bed-wetter, often soiling the one he shared with his mother while his father was off fighting in World War II. Unimpressed by the lack of control over his bladder, his mother would punish him with beatings and ridicule him mercilessly. Then one day the family— Andrei, a sister seven years his junior and his mother— discovered that his father had been captured and 56

detained in an enemy prison camp. This led, upon his return, to accusations of cowardice and a withdrawal of respect by his neighbors. His son also viewed him as weak and took refuge in the classroom, where he was a bright student, so it was a surprise when he failed the entrance examination that would have guaranteed him entry to Moscow State University. The years passed and at eighteen the under-achiever had his first sexual encounter. It was neither conventional nor consensual. Chikatilo threw himself at a teenage girl and dragged her to the ground. As the terrified girl writhed beneath him he became further aroused, to the point of ejaculation. He knew the powerful sensation the attack engendered in him would be difficult to resist at any future interval. He discovered what he needed to do to reach the most satisfying orgasm—the partner had to be unwilling. Chikatilo was considered handsome by some and drew his fair share of attention from girls. He was tall and strong and they liked his muscles. In spite of this, he had few girlfriends; they found his painful shyness difficult to deal with. Andrei Chikatilo’s unexpected marriage was facilitated by his sister, who brought her bashful, older brother together with a school friend. The friend was somewhat drawn to the quiet and outwardly respectable young man and the couple were wed in 1968. Chikatilo had no problems in achieving erection, but the only way he could ejaculate was to masturbate himself. He fathered two children by the unconventional method of using his fingers to convey his seed into his wife. An obsessive writer, Chikatilo completed a degree in Suspense Magazine May 2010 / Vol. 011

Russian literature via a correspondence course. He for cash. They did not object to following a stranger realized his dream to become a teacher in 1971 and into nearby woods, unaware that in his carrier-case he entered the profession in the town of Novoshakhtinsk. often kept a rope and a knife. But his fragile, underdeveloped personality Arriving at a location Chikatilo considered secluded handicapped him from the start. Unable to command enough, he would pounce on his victim, hacking and any respect from students, the overall approach to slashing at them with his knife, becoming aroused his work suffered. He was an ineffectual teacher. by their muffled screams and the release of blood, Outwardly he maintained his passive demeanor; inside achieving orgasm as he plunged his murder weapon he boiled. Dreams of force and control, intermingled into their struggling bodies. Sometimes he would with other, more sadistic fantasies involving the attempt to have sex with a prostitute or female vagrant, spilling of blood, haunted him. but would be unable to perform the sexual act unless he was simultaneously harming them. That was when During his short tenure as a teacher, Chikatilo molested the knife came out. The frustrated murderer, enraged a number of pupils. Caught, he was fired in 1981. He by his inability to perform normally, acted out his would never again work with young children and was sexual energies with his weapon. lucky to avoid formal investigation into the assaults. Now the humiliation of not being in control could His downward spiral into depravity was rapid. Driven be forgotten, in its place was the vicarious pleasure to assault more young people, he took his first life on derived from the penetration of his knife into his 22 December 1978. victim’s body. In his mind the knife became his penis and now there was a blessed release from his pent-up Having moved to the small mining village of Shakhty, frustrations by ejaculation. Again and again he stabbed near Rostov, he bought an old house for a specific and with each stroke his ecstasy and power increased. purpose, keeping it a secret from his family. There, His signature was sealed. he lured nine-year-old Yelena Zakotnova with the intention of raping her. When the child resisted his By this time, the authorities were aware that something assault, he used a knife to stab her to death. As the terrible was happening out in the woods around blade entered her body Chikatilo ejaculated. It was at Rostov, though details surrounding the murders this moment the deadly pattern was established. were suppressed by a government-controlled media unwilling to acknowledge that such monsters Meanwhile, Chikatilo sat back in the shadows as a existed in the USSR; the premise being that this was man named Alexandr Kravchenko was arrested, tried, something only the western world had to contend convicted and executed for the murder. with. Consequently, most parents were unaware of what was occurring, the majority having no idea that Four years elapsed before Chikatilo killed again. By a sadistic killer was on the loose in their communities, 1982 his present job afforded him the opportunity snatching, sexually assaulting and murdering their to travel extensively. Using the railway system, he had children in ever-increasing numbers. no sooner left a train when he would be scouting for prospective victims. After another lull, Chikatilo killed again in June 1983. Four more people would be brutally slain that year to He preferred the weak and disenfranchised. There satiate the demons within him. Their mutilated bodies was certainly no shortage of these souls hovering were carelessly covered with leaves and branches; about the station platforms and nearby bus depots. sometimes handfuls of dirt were stuffed in their The homeless, prostitutes and runaway children suited frozen mouths by their sexually-spent killer. Chikatilo’s purposes very well. They were vulnerable victims eager to agree New Criminologist: Feature to his offer of sex and/or food in return SuspenseMagazine.com

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The child victims—and there were many—were of both sexes. They were attracted by Chikatilo’s friendly, chatty manner and the promise of sweets or money and sometimes an offer to watch horror films. The murders continued unabated. In early 1984 the killer lured ten-year-old Dmitri Ptashnikov to a cruel death. The boy’s mutilated corpse was discovered three days later, slashed and stabbed multiple times with a knife. The tip of his tongue— along with his genitals—was missing. Two more young boys were also murdered in the following weeks; both had been repeatedly stabbed and sexually mutilated. In August that year, seventeenyear-old Lyudmila Alekseyeva was stabbed and slashed thirty-nine times with Chikatilo’s kitchen blade. His horrifying signature had also begun to include excising his victims’ upper lips and often their noses and depositing them in their mouth or eviscerated stomachs. A major manhunt was launched by Moscow police, who began by looking at all convicted sex offenders and the mentally ill. A forensic analyst named Victor Burakov, who had the distinction of being a specialist in his field, worked alongside Major Mikhail Fetisov, who headed up the team. By the end of the summer of 1984, the police had tallied twenty-four murders in total thus far. They had never seen anything like it. Victims’ decomposing or skeletal remains were found to have been mutilated extensively: eyes had been gouged out, nipples bitten off, penises and testicles removed. The police knew they were dealing with a murder series of epic proportions, driven by a man

whose sickening violence was escalating with each new crime. By this time, he was killing a victim almost every two weeks. There were leads to follow, such as certain murdered victims being found very close to where previous human remains had been discovered. There was also plenty of physical evidence, including a size-thirteen footprint to work with. In 1984, with a further fifteen murders in the series, police invested in additional patrols and posted plainclothes officers at many bus and train stations. A man named Andrei Chikatilo had been rejected as a suspect because his blood group did not match that of semen found at some of the scenes. On 22 February of that year, he had been taken into custody at a Rostov bus station. He had been reported for stealing a roll of linoleum. The police used the opportunity to hold and question him about the murders. The forensic examiners who analyzed the samples believed Chikatilo possessed a unique blood type. Other experts did not attach much credence to the theory, rather suspecting that there had been a mix-up with the samples or that the tests had been performed in a substandard fashion, with inaccurate results. However, the theory that certain individual blood types differ from semen would be validated after Chikatilo’s arrest six years and many more murders, later. It was found that a “secretor” status refers to blood protein and antibody markers followed in established methods of blood identification—this was before the advent of DNA analysis—were where blood “markers” are secreted in other bodily fluids, such as sweat and saliva. With a secretor these markers

“But the

whole thing – the cries, the blood, the agony – gave me relaxation and a certain pleasure.”

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will be present, while with a “non-secretor” they will the filed report on the bedraggled man who had come not. Approximately eighty percent of the population out of those same woods was quickly referenced by are secretors, and about twenty percent are non- investigators. secretors, of which Andrei Romanivich Chikatilo was one. Chikatilo was placed under intense surveillance by the police and tracked wherever he went by undercover Lacking the evidence needed to charge Chikatilo with detectives. any of the murders he slipped through that particular net, but was convicted over the linoleum theft and Andrei Chikatilo left his home as usual on 20 served three months of a one year prison sentence. November 1990, unaware it would be his last day He was freed to kill again some time before Christmas of freedom. The police were following and watched 1984. as he shuffled about Novocherassk, noting that he continually sought out children and attempted to In 1985, now working in Novocherkassk, Chikatilo engage them. They recognized him as the serial killer was somehow able to cease killing for a time, keeping they were hunting; they also knew that serial killers a low profile following the close call of his arrest. were like restless animals when they needed a victim. But with the slaying of two young women in August The way Chikatilo behaved around the youngsters 1985, he reintroduced the murderous cycle. In Revda, he came into contact with that day, convinced them Ukraine, whilst traveling on business, he also made a he had to be taken down. The decision was made to stop to take a boy out into the forest, assault, kill and arrest him. mutilate him. He killed again in Zaporozhye in July and Leningrad in September. Under interrogation, it was noticed Chikatilo sustained a bite to his finger, it turned out from one Chikatilo, as with many other serial killers, followed of his last victims, a sixteen-year-old boy named the investigation in the news. His murderous activities Victor Tishchenko. Evidence found at the scene of were of paramount importance to him and he did his murder also suggested a furious struggle with his not want to be caught. Aware that—under mounting assailant. political pressure—the manhunt stepped up a gear in Rostov, Chikatilo began killing in other areas. His The police wanted a confession from Chikatilo. He thirst for blood knew no bounds and the slaughter appeared a tough nut to crack conventionally so continued. some lateral thinking was required. After consulting a psychiatrist who helped with the investigation, a On 6 November, Chikatilo killed his last victim, twenty- strategy was formulated for an appeal to Chikatilo’s two-year-old Sveta Korostik. Stabbing her in his devious nature, to effectively con the con-man into signature frenzy, he chewed off and consumed the tip having him believe the police wanted to help him. of her tongue, along with both her nipples. Emerging Investigators told Chikatilo the murders were so from the woods moments later, he was stopped by an appalling that they could not have been committed undercover policeman on patrol at Donleshkhoz train by a sane person. They must have been the work of station. Questioned about his presence in the woods, a diabolical madman, someone who was very ill and Chikatilo cobbled a story together about gathering desperately needed their help. Taking the bait, thinking wild mushrooms. Though he was scratched, dirty and that he could lay the foundations for a subsequent plea bore traces of blood on his face, he was allowed to of insanity at trial, Chikatilo began to unload. There leave after showing identification to the officer. But was much to tell. his name was logged and again placed on file. The psychiatrist who helped conceive the strategy also When two mangled corpses were later discovered just nine meters apart, in New Criminologist: Feature woodland near Donleshkhoz station, SuspenseMagazine.com

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interacted with Chikatilo throughout his confessions, Chikatilo sat, handcuffed for the most part, in a steel at that time an unprecedented move in the Soviet cage placed in the centre of the court room. He played Union. The police had Chikatilo’s confessions, but the part of an insane man well, even exposing himself they also needed evidence. Chikatilo would help; he before guards rushed to restrain him. As details of could show them where the bodies were; victims he the murders were described, some people fainted, buried in the hope they would never be found. This others reacted violently. There were palpable signs of was the proof police needed to convict him. a riot brewing. Someone even fired a lead ball from a catapult at Chikatilo’s cage. Over a two week period, Chikatilo confessed to and described in lurid detail, fifty-six murders, although After his sentence was passed—death for each of the only fifty-three could be substantiated. He killed fifty-three murder counts—Chikatilo railed against thirty-one females and twenty-two males. Three of the regime, the poor conditions of his childhood and the victims had been buried and could not be found, the famine (which occurred before he was born, so so he was not charged with these crimes. The number held little relevance in his speech). He even predictably of killings he confessed to surprised the police, who blamed his victims for bringing out the beast in him. accounted for only thirty-six in their investigation. They were “worthless” homeless, rootless. They A number of victims were slain far from Chikatilo’s sponged off the state, waifs and strays who incensed known murder sites and as a consequence had not him with their thieving, lazy ways. They deserved to been linked until the killer led his “friends”—the be raped and mutilated and have parts of their bodies police—to their shallow graves. eaten, because they were a nuisance to society. Among his macabre revelations was confirmation of On Valentine’s Day 1994, Andrei Chikatilo was what police had long suspected, Chikatilo cannibalized brought before a firing squad and a single shot to the parts of some victims’ bodies. brain ended the life of the most prolific serial killer Russia had ever known. His relentless obsession with Remanded to await trial, Chikatilo was put under blood-letting and pain, so deeply entrenched within twenty-four-hour video surveillance while in his cell. his mind, was terminated and one wonders if, in his Away from the police his behavior was restrained and final days, he had felt any peace from this prospect.  normal. Evidently he felt no need to cavort and caper like the lunatic he pretended to be, instead quietly occupying himself in his new accommodation by writing letters and Autographed Copies Available at: reading newspapers. The variously pressdubbed “Rostov Ripper” and “Russian Cannibal” went to trial on 14 April 1992. With devastated members of the victims’ families baying for his blood,

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The Irishman: Inside an Upcoming Major Hollywood Mob Flick: Special to New Criminologist Up Against the Book Shelf Column

By: Ron Chepesiuk

W

hat is it that attracts us to Mafia movies like steel clips to a magnet? Most of us have seen The Godfather, a movie considered by many to be the greatest ever made. But it’s just one of a long line of great Mob flicks that extend back to Hollywood’s early years where we had such classics as Public Enemy Number 1 and Little Caesar. Just in past two decades or so Hollywood has released such great flicks as Casino, Donnie Brasco, Good Fellas, Jackie Brown, A History of Violence and The Departed, among others.

Porrello is no literary flash in the pan. He had initial success with his first book, The Rise and Fall of the Cleveland Mafia: Corn, Sugar and Blood, which Barricade Books published and included Porrello’s research into the murder of his grandfather and three uncles. The book was also a regional favorite and went through several hard cover printings before being re-published in paperback. But Porrello could not come to terms with Barricade over what literary rights he was willing to sell to the publisher.

With so many superb mafia flicks around, we might ask: has Hollywood seen its best days when it comes to this genre of movie? The quick answer is, no way.

“In today’s publishing marketplace, it’s tough to strike a fair deal on your own,” Porrello explained. “You really need a literary agent, but when I queried several literary agents to see if they would represent me, they said it’s hard to sell a book written by an unknown author.”

Consider that this coming spring (2010) an explosive and highly original mob flick is scheduled for release. Titled simply The Irishman, the movie depicts the story of Danny Greene, an Irish-American mobster who takes on the La Cosa Nostra in a vicious and violent gang war that had the bodies piling up on the streets of Cleveland in the 1970s. Greene is on record as making this bold challenge to the powerful La Cosa Nostra: “I have no axe to grind, but if those maggots in this so-called Mafia want to come after me, I’m over here by the Celtic club. I’m not hard to find.” That’s great dialogue from the book upon which the movie is based. Written by true crime writer, Rick Porrello and published in 1998 as To Kill an Irishman, the book has sold more than twenty thousand copies. Not bad for a self-published book. The Midwest Book Review described To Kill an Irishman as “must reading…a true life story more dramatic than anything ever to come out of Hollywood.” Another review by the Book Reader predicted great things for Porrello’s book when it concluded that it was “a terrific read about powerful losers and mob stuff just a few years ago. We see a Hollywood script soon.” SuspenseMagazine.com

Porrello, however, didn’t need to publish books to survive. In 1981 the eighteen year old talented musician became the drummer for Sammy Davis Jr., the super star entertainer who hung out with Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin as a member of the famous Rat Pack. As a stickman for Davis, Porrello traveled the world, appeared in television shows, including the Johnny Carson Show and performed regularly at venues in Las Vegas and Atlantic City. “It was a great life and a great career, but I’ve always wanted to write,” Porrello revealed. “Writing is tough, but there is no greater feeling than seeing your book in print.” And that feeling is magnified when the writer becomes one of the chosen few in his profession whose book is transformed into a Hollywood movie. A remarkable achievement considering Porrello has a time-consuming day job. He’s a Cleveland area police chief. The Irishman movie brings together an award-winning allstar cast and an award-winning all-star production crew. Noted actors Ray Stevenson, Christopher Walken, Val 61

“Lips” Moceri and Eugene “The Animal” the Italian Mafia had enough and New Criminologist: Feature Caisullo, went all out to get Greene. What followed prompted one newspaper to describe Kilmer, Paul Sorvino and Vincent D’Onofrio (Law and Cleveland as the “bombing capitol of the United States.” Order’s Criminal Intent) will play lead and supporting roles. Director Jonathan Hensleigh was the screenwriter You can read the book to find out what happened and for Die Hard with a Vengeance and Jumanji and wrote and watch the movie to see how Hollywood treats the story. co-directed The Punisher, while Jonathan Walters is the We will reveal, though, that the subsequent Mafia war co-writer. The movie’s editor, Douglas Crise was Oscar had consequences beyond Cleveland. Besides leading to nominated for his work on Babel. the murder of dozens of gangsters, the war also created a chain reaction in which the Mob remained in perpetual Writing the screenplay must have been a challenge given war not only in Cleveland but also Milwaukee, Kansas Greene’s complex character and the richness of his story. City, Los Angeles and other cities across the country. Porrello described Greene as “a Celtic warrior at heart, obsessed with the color green—green car, green jackets Meanwhile, Greene became a legend. and green ink pens.” Porrello concludes his page turning narrative with a The quirky Irishman was handsome, obsessed with lyrically Irish sounding refrain from The Ballad of Danny physical fitness and followed a strict diet of fish, Greene: “One day he’ll lie, as all we must, some will vegetables and vitamin supplements. To minimize his laugh, but most will cry. His legend will live on for years, to bring his friends mixed pleasure.” hair loss, Greene underwent painful hair transplants. “Green took his personal hygiene very seriously,” Porrello explained. “He even had a nail brush in the union bathroom to keep his manicured nails scrubbed clean.” Greene had no problem with using car bombs to blow his enemies to smithereens, but he was also known as an animal lover who put out food for birds and squirrels. Greene got his start in racketeering in the late 1960s as president of the Cleveland branch of the International Association of Longshoreman, but was deposed after a Cleveland plain dealer newspaper investigation revealed he had been embezzling union funds. Greene worked as an enforcer for local Cleveland mobsters, including Alex Shondor Birns. He got into a dispute with Birns over sixty thousand dollars that Greene refused to repay and the two went to war. Birns made several botched attempts on Greene’s life. In one incident, the Irishman found a bomb that Birns planted in Greene’s car. Greene described his brush with death as “the luck of the Irish” and vowed to get even. “Sure enough,” Porrello explained, “a few weeks later, Birns was blown out of his car in two pieces. It was an excellent hit and Danny was proud.” After Godfather, John Scalish, died from heart surgery in 1976, the criminally ambitious Greene allied himself with John Nardi, a corrupt teamsters official in a move to take over the Cleveland underworld. When Greene murdered the feared, but respected mobster Leo 62

Ray Stevenson as Danny Greene in The Irishman (2010). According to news reports about the movie, Actor Ray Stevenson, the star of The Punisher, looks forward to the challenge of playing the complex Danny Greene character. In an interview with the Internet site Movie Set, Stevenson said it was the exceptional script that drew him to the project. He described Green as charismatic, a loner whom the people considered a Robin Hood because he gave turkeys to them at Thanksgiving and Christmas to show “it wasn’t about the money, there was a higher goal.” The movie project’s genesis can be traced to 1997 when Tommy Reid—then a young, ambitious entertainment entrepreneur—stumbled on to the Danny Greene story and learned that Rick Porrello was writing a book about it. Thus began a long and arduous process of getting the movie made. Why did it take so long for The Irishman to reach fruition? “First of all,” Reid explained to the New Criminologist, “Rick’s book was self-published and not a New York Times bestseller. Even if a book is a New York Times bestseller, it has one percent chance of being made into a movie. Reid added, “So many elements are involved (in making a movie). You need a great writer to adapt Suspense Magazine May 2010 / Vol. 011

the book to a screenplay. You got to have a visionary production team on board. Then you have to find the financing, so you can make reasonable offers to acting talents like Ray Stevenson and Val Kilmer to get them on board.” Reid laughed and quipped, “That’s how a movie becomes a twelve year overnight success.”

would take to be successful was timing and getting the right elements in place.”

Each year, for more than a decade, Reid had to buy an option on Porrello’s book to retain the right to make a movie based on it. As the website Wikipedia explains, the option is a “contractual agreement between a movie studio, a production company or film producer and writer, in which the producer obtains the rights to buy a screenplay from the writer, beyond a certain date.”

In 2007, the producer went to Cleveland and interviewed nine individuals who had ties to Danny Greene. The interviews form the basis for the documentary, Danny Greene: The Rise and Fall of the Irishman, a factual portrayal of the Irishman’s life. The documentary is in post-production and will be available for distribution in 2010.

“Sure, optioning the book was expensive,” Reid conceded. “My company had to put up a lot of money and it really added up. But we prevailed and never gave up. Along the way, the project fell off the horse a few times, but I would get back on and ride it. I was a true believer in the project.”

Reid plans to use the documentary to help promote the feature film, which finally began production in May 2009.

During the past twelve years, Porrello got several offers from others who wanted to buy the option to To Kill an Irishman. Some of the prospective buyers were bigger names than Tommy Reid in the entertainment industry, but as Porrello explained, “Tommy’s the man. He had a vision for my book and he is ambitious…contagiously ambitious. He got me believing that the project would happen.” Aspiring entertainment entrepreneurs cannot live by one project alone and so while The Irishman was in development, Reid was busy building his career. The film projects he has produced and directed include The Wiffler: The Ted Whitfield Story, the true tale of the greatest wiffle ball player of all-time, and Strike, a comedy starring Tara Reid, Ross Patterson and Clayne Crawford. As a field producer, Reid researched and prepared one hundred twenty plus interviews with retired, rookie and 2009 Super-Bowl winning NFL players. “I have to have a couple of irons in the fire to keep going,” Reid said. “But I knew The Irishman was my best project and all it SuspenseMagazine.com

Still, the challenges were formidable. Reid confided that at one point he got so frustrated at the lack of progress, he decided it was time to produce something tangible from all the work he had done on Danny Greene’s story.

“Sitting there watching the production begin, I had to pinch myself,” Reid recalled with smiled. “Finally it had all come together.” The shooting went smoothly and wrapped the following month. When asked what’s the movie’s cost, Reid sighed and said, “The cost is never ending. The advertising alone can eat up your budget. Post-production is another cost. That’s the important phase in which the movie is edited.” When asked when the movie will finally be completed, Reid chuckled, “There is a saying in Hollywood. You never finish a movie; you abandon it. Otherwise, post production can go on forever.” The movie is scheduled to debut St. Paddy’s Day, 2010. “With an Irish character like Danny Greene, that’s a fitting way to launch the movie,” Reid said. It sure is, but given the uncertainties of the film industry, it may take the luck of the Irish for that to happen. 

Ron Chepesiuk ([email protected]) is an award winning freelance investigative journalist and documentary producer. He is a Fulbright scholar and a consultant to the History Channel’s Gangland documentary series. His true crime books include “Drug Lords”, "Black Gangsters of Chicago” and “Gangsters of Harlem”. His three forthcoming books include “Gangsters of Miami” (November 2009), “The Trafficantes” (an e-book in February, 2010), “Sergeant Smack: The Lives and Times of Ike Atkinson”, "Kingpin” and his “Band of Brother” (May, 2010). 63

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FBI 10 Most Wanted List

Jason Derek Brown - Up in Lights In continuation of our reports on the FBI’s Most Wanted List, this month we are enlightening you on a malicious man who is wanted for murder and armed robbery in Phoenix, Arizona—Jason Derek Brown. He goes by the following names: Jason D. Brown, Derek Brown, Greg Johnson, Harline Johnson, Greg Harline Johnson, John Brown and Jay Brown. Do not let this picture fool you, he is not as innocent as he seems. In November of 2004, Brown allegedly shot and killed an armored car guard outside a movie theatre and then escaped with the money. Even though Brown speaks fluent French and has a Masters Degree in International Business, he may own a Glock 9mm and a .45 caliber handgun. According to the FBI, he has blond hair, green eyes and a light complexion. He is approximately 5’10” tall and weighs about 175 pounds. He is a golf equipment importer and therefore is an avid golfer. He also likes to snowboard, ski and dirt bike ride, so please be aware of your surroundings. Additionally, he enjoys being in the limelight and frequent nightclubs where he may boast about his high-priced vehicles, boats and other toys. Some say he has bisexual tendencies. Brown has ties to California, Arizona and Utah and has traveled to France and Mexico, so he could be anywhere. He is CONSIDERED ARMED AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. If you have any information concerning this person, please contact your local FBI office or the nearest United States Embassy (http://www. fbi.gov/contact/fo/fo.htm) or Consulate (http://www.fbi.gov/contact/legat/legat. htm). A reward is being offered of up to $100,000 for information leading directly to the arrest of Jason Derek Brown.

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Updated given by Starr Gardinier Reina  64


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other. The homes are spectacular in love with this place. But as you Freeway 134 there, you have the more famously known as “Suicide

If you have ever been to Pasadena, CA you will instantly notice that it is one of Southern California’s most beautiful towns to visit. You’ve got the famous Rose Bowl on one side and downtown Pasadena, with shops and exquisite restaurants on the and you can’t help but fall make your way up or down Colorado Street Bridge, or Bridge.”

Suicide Bridge first opened in 1913. This bridge spans across Arroyo Seco, which links the San Gabriel Mountains to the LA River. The first reported misfortune occurred before the bridge was opened. According to reports, a worker fell over headfirst and landed on wet concrete. His co-workers who thought he couldn’t be saved left his body in the quick-drying cement. The first suicide was reported ten years after the completion of the bridge. The Great Depression triggered many more suicides on the bridge. A more famously known suicide story is that of a mother and child which happened on May 1, 1937. When the mother found out her husband left her and her daughter, she made her way over to the bridge where she threw her daughter and she jumped after. Miraculously, the daughter survived as she landed on tree branches, but the mother jumped to her death. She now haunts the bridge in search of her daughter. 

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Pasadena: A Beautiful Town with One Deadly Bridge

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By: Claudia Vargas SuspenseMagazine.com

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EXTRAORDINARY PRAISE ECHOES THROUGHOUT THE LAND FOR A STUNNING DEBUT OF LITERARY SUSPENSE…

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An estranged son is thrust into the hunt for a murderous fugitive—his own father.

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Now available wherever books are sold

Murders in the Meadow

By: James G. Piatt

Jake gazed through the frosty mist clinging to the window. He saw the wolves running and then heard them howling. Cold memories crept into his soul like a dark presence. It first happened many years ago, but now a more recent image haunted his shadowy nightmares. He glanced at the bowie knife in his hand and felt the razor edge. He drew his thumb over the sharp edge and gazed absently at the thin strip of blood that oozed from the cut. Narrow beams from the moon crept like frozen tears across pine boughs laden with glistening yellow icicles as he watched out the window. Jake was finding it harder and harder to reconcile the dull ache in his mind. The guilt remained like an open sore. Vivid nightmares of the incidents occurred nightly. He grabbed the coffeepot and poured a mug of thick, black coffee. He laced it with whiskey. He looked at the cup and took a big swallow. His mind roamed back and forth like a confused animal to two months ago. That was when the last incident happened. He looked down and tried to wipe the blood off of his hands. The problem was the blood didn’t exist and he could never wipe it off. He put his leathery and gnarled hands to his creased temples and pushed. The images remained like clear sap slowly crawling down a gnarled pine tree trunk, sticky and thick. He was awakened out of the disquieting trance by a loud noise. It was a banging on the door of his cabin. He tried to ignore the noise, but the knocking got louder. He finally put his mug on the table and walked to the door. “Yeah, what do you want?” “Are you Jake Withers?” “Yeah.” “I need to talk to you.” “About what?” “Open the door, Mr. Withers!” the voice of authority ordered. Jake scowling at the tone of the voice unlatched the metal chain and pushed back the bolt. He opened the door a few inches and looked outside. A huge Sheriff was standing on the stoop. “Jake Withers?” “I said yeah! What the hell do you want?” “I’m Sheriff Buford Bunning; I need to talk to you, Mr. Withers.” “What the hell about?” He said brusquely, befitting his large imposing stature and scraggly appearance. Jake thought about slamming the door in the officer’s face, but then sighed and said, “Come on in.” Jake felt the pressure around his temples again. He tried to wipe the nonexistent blood off his hands on his pants again as he stepped aside so the policeman could enter. “Okay, now what the hell do you want?” “I came here to question you about a death in Bluff Meadows. Did you know a Marcia Strong?” Feeling his throat tighten, his mind thought back to a girl named Marcia he once knew, or maybe it was only a dream. He felt sweat slowly trickling down his spine. “I don’t think so, who is she?” “It’s who she was actually, she is dead now. She was slashed with a large knife. Her body was left along the SuspenseMagazine.com

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stream near the Bluff Meadows campground about two miles from here. A trapper found her. If he hadn’t come along, the wolves would have cleaned everything up and we probably never would have know it was murder. She went camping about two months ago, before the big snow storm arrived.” “I didn’t hear about no trial.” “You didn’t hear anything about a trial, because there was no trial. We are still looking for the murderer. How long have you lived up here, Mr. Withers?” “About six months, I came in July of this year, when it was warm.” “Is this your cabin, Mr. Withers?” the policeman asked looking at Jake’s bearded face and dark, deep-set eyes. “I just rent, don’t have enough money to buy. I pay two hundred dollars a month.” “Hum, where do you work?” “I don’t, I’m disabled. In eight years, I’ll get my Social Security then life will be a hell of a lot easier.” “How are you disabled, Mr. Withers, you seem healthy to me?” “I was in Nam and was shot by a gook. The wounds in my head healed, but I couldn’t think straight anymore. What the hell has all these questions got to do about me or the lady?” “Where did you live before here, Mr. Withers?” Bunning asked, ignoring Jake’s questions. “Down in Williams, I moved there from Orland.” “I see, Williams...wasn’t that the town where four girls were murdered in 2000?” “I think I heard something about that,” Jake answered, feeling a dark anger building. “Yeah, and wasn’t there a string of murders in the city of Orland? If I remember there were six girls murdered there from 1994 to 1997, all stabbed forty times. We found forty stab wounds on Marcia’s body too.” “I guess there was a lot of crime in that county,” Jake said angrily, his temper starting to flare. “Mr. Withers, where were you two months ago, October 10 of this year?” “Hell man, I don’t remember things too damn well, and to remember a single day two months ago is impossible. Sometimes I hunt deer or go see old man Beng, I might have been there.” “Nope, Mr. Beng’s son said he didn’t see you there or even around your place all that day, he seems to have a very good memory.” “Oh...well hell, I don’t know then,” Jake said as he rubbed his hands on his pants again. “Do you own a bowie knife, Mr. Withers?” “Yeah, I use it for skinning deer, why?” “I would like to see it, Mr. Withers.” Jake glared at the huge policeman then slowly went to the cupboard. His head was aching and his rage was rising as he picked up the knife and slowly turned around. *** It was a struggle to drag the body on the sled down to the frozen stream. A slender trail of blood like a scarlet, velvet ribbon glistened in the pure white snow. As he pulled the body near the stream, it was snowing softly and the crimson ribbon was slowly being covered over. Jake expertly skinned the body and cut it up into pieces, he packed the meat into plastic containers. He left the rest of the bloody carcass for the wolves, placed the meat on the sled and hiked slowly back to the cabin. When he arrived home, he placed the containers next to the many others he had frozen in his freezer. He sighed, went to the kitchen and cleaned off his bowie knife with hot water and soap. He took off his blood-splattered clothes and put them in the washer. He then went into his shower turned on the hot water and stepped into the hot, flowing steam. He tried to relax, but shadowy images of the bloody body still flooded into his mind. He watched the blood run down the drain and washed his hands over and over. He heard the wolves howling again. After his shower, he sat in his chair gazing out the window at the wolves running up from the trail where he left the bloody carcass. He knew with the oncoming storm, there would be very little trace of anything left, no one would ever know. Sipping his hot coffee, laced with bourbon, he tried to rub the nonexistent blood off of his hands again. 68


A few days later as dusk was settling into the forest, he sat by the fireplace warming his hands and watching the news. A blond anchor with bright, red lipstick gasped as she read the piece of paper placed in front of her. “Oh my god,” she said with a pale face. “We have breaking news, Ranger Bill Moore found the body of Sheriff Buford Bunning about 4:00 today. Moore said officer Bunning had been eaten by wolves and there was little left. They found his badge near the bones. It is not known if it was an accident or a homicide. A new storm is arriving and they will not be able to get back to the site immediately, which means any trace of evidence might be lost.” It was some days after the incident when Jake heard a knock at his cabin door. Getting up, he looked out the window. The snow had stopped, and the sun painted pale, yellow rays through the white snow laden pine trees. “Yeah, what the hell do you want?” Jake asked angrily. “I would like to talk to you; you're Jake Withers, aren’t you?” “Yeah,” he answered and then opened the door slightly. A comely policewoman about five foot six stood in the doorway. Smiling, Jake opened the door wider and grinned. She entered the cabin and looked around the cabin warily. “I’m Officer Timms, Mr. Withers. Did Sheriff Bunning stop by here about a week ago?” “Yeah, so what!” “Did you hear the news about his death?” “Yeah.” “Well, we are investigating his death. We aren’t sure if it was a homicide or accidental. There wasn’t much left after the wolves got through.” “Hum, that’s too damn bad. What do you want to talk to me about?” “Do you know where Officer Bunning was going after he left your cabin?” “I’m not sure; he may have said something about going over to the Beng’s place,” Jake said as he tried to rub the imaginary blood off of his hands. “That’s the small farm across the meadow?” she asked as she watched him vigorously rub his hands on his pants. “Yeah, it’s about three hundred yards or so from here.” “I see, well, I guess I’ll go down there. Did you happen to be down in Bluff Meadows about a week ago?” Jake hesitated and started to feel the pressure in his temples. “Uh, yeah, I think I was down there three days to a week ago. I was following a deer; I hunt for deer down in that area.” “I see,” the officer stated as she looked at Jake. “Did you see anyone in that area?” “I think I saw tracks from a set of snow shoes, but I didn’t give it no mind.” “I see.” Jake stared at her, trying to rub the nonexistent blood off of his hands again. The officer frowned as she watched the odd behavior. “How long have you lived here, Mr. Withers?” “About six months,” he said guardedly. “And before that?” “Uh, Williams.” “Did you live anyplace else prior to that?” the officer asked suspiciously. Jake flinched and the anger inside him started mounting. He crossed his huge arms and answered angrily, “Yeah, I lived in Orland, so what!” The officer narrowed her brow and stared at Jake. She then saw the large Bowie knife sitting on a coffee table. “That’s a very big Bowie knife.” He picked the Bowie knife and held it in his hand. A sardonic grin appeared on his face as he turned around SuspenseMagazine.com

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and stared at the officer. The officer backed up looking at him in fear. “I had better head over to the Beng’s farm now.” *** About four hours passed since Jake returned from Bluff Meadows. The wolves passed him in the opposite direction through the pine trees on each side of the trail. He could hear them in the distance now as he neared his cabin. He knew they were feasting again. Later that week he was sitting by a huge fire and listening to TV. The same blond anchor was looking at the piece of paper that had been thrust in front of her. “Oh my god,” she stated out loud. She then shook her head and read tearfully from piece of paper. “We have another murder in Bluff Meadows, this time it was Officer Maryann Timms. A man named Tommy Beng found her remains. He said it was horrifying to see the wolves gnawing on her body. He stated that he vomited then ran as fast as he could back to his place. His father called the authorities. This is the third recent death in the Bluff Meadow area. A few months ago, it was Marcia Strong, then Sheriff Bunning and now officer Timms. It is now believed by the authorities that all three were brutally murdered by a serial murderer. An all out investigation is being initiated and the FBI is on the scene." Jake put his hands to his exploding temples, his heart was pounding like a jackhammer and gory images kept flashing across his mind. The next morning, as he was finishing his breakfast of meat and potatoes, he heard a loud rapping on the door. He flinched, rubbed his hands on his pants and went to the door. This time there were two policeman and two other men in suits standing on his porch. “Yeah, what the hell do you want?” Jake stated angrily. “We need to talk to you, Mr. Withers!” “What about?” “Let us in, Withers!” the voice demanded. Jake hesitated then reluctantly opened the door. The four men entered the cabin in a rush and took Jake to the floor. “Officer Timms contacted us before she came to your cabin, Mr. Withers and that was the last contact she ever made. We also know that Officer Bunning came here too. You are under arrest for the murders of...” The voice buzzed on and on. Jake listened as if in a heavy fog. He heard the wolves howling in the meadow and indistinct voices going on and on. Jake couldn’t rub the blood off of his hands this time. They were handcuffed behind his back. *** Jake Withers was found guilty of the murder of Officer Timms, he was also suspected of murdering Sheriff Bunning and Marcia Strong and the girls in Williams and Orland, but there was not enough evidence to charge him with those murders. He was sentenced to death, but the execution was stayed when a psychiatrist pronounced him schizophrenic with delusional thinking. He was sent to a mental asylum. *** Jake sat in a steel chair staring out iron bars. He was trying to rub nonexistent blood off his hand on his robe. He heard the howling of imaginary wolves in his mind and images of the fawn’s blood filled his mind. He had never wanted to kill the beautiful fawns, but they were the tastiest of all the deer and the wolves were happy to clean up the remains after his kills. He thought no one would ever know. *** Tommy Beng laughed hysterically as he gazed at the blood dripping from his Bowie knife. He then sighed contentedly as he repositioned the bloody body of his father lying crookedly on a sled. Mr. Beng had been stabbed forty times. The wolves were howling and circling again, waiting for their dinner. Tommy started pulling the sled towards Bluff Meadows and humming.  70


jus

Top 25 True Crime Authors

1. Ron Franscell, “The Darkest Night” 2. M. William Phelps, “Death Trap” 3. Erik Larson, “The Devil in the White City” 4. Elissa Wall, “Stolen Innocence” 5. Carlton Smith, “In the Arms of Evil” 6. John Glatt, “Playing with Fire” 7. Katheryn Casey, “Evil Beside Her” 8. Luis Alberto Urrea, “The Devil’s Highway: A True Story” 9. Steve Miller, “A Slaying in the Suburbs” 10. John Dean, “House of Evil: The Indiana Torture Slaying” 11. David Simon, “Homicide” 12. Laney Salisbury, “Provenance” SuspenseMagazine.com

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13. Ann Rule, “But I Trusted You: Ann Rule Crime Files #14” 14. John Berendt, “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” 15. John Grisham, “The Innocent Man” 16. Truman Capote, “In Cold Blood” 17. Alice Sebold, “Lucky” 18. Candace Dempsey, “Murder in Italy” 19. Patricia Springer, “Lethal Charmer” 20. Patrick Greg, “Cold-Blooded Murder” 21. Tom Philbin, “I, Monster” 22. Michele R. McPhee, “A Date with Death” 23. Betsy Powell, “Bad Seeds” 24. Debi Marshall, “Lambs to Slaughter” 25. Tina Dirmann, “Such Good Boys” 71

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