What makes a writer? For one thing, he wants to have his work read by others. I’ve had a lot of fun reading my friends’ books, and for a long time, I’ve wanted to share a little of my current work in progress. I’ve decided to finally indulge myself with a little clip from my murder mystery, Box of Rocks. I hope you enjoy coming along for the ride.

“Do we really have to go to that damn book club meeting tomorrow?” Cher asked. “When we joined, I thought they were going to serve daiquiris while discussing Jane Austen. Somehow, we found the only dry book club in the county.”

“Come on, Cher.” Maggie replied. “We could both use more culture and refinement. That’s why we’re reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.”

She stuck out her tongue and made a gagging noise.

“Oh, hell!” she continued. “Which of us wants to fake the Ebola virus to get out of it?”

“Your turn.” Cher reminded her. “Last month I had bubonic plague.”

“Yes, but the month before that I had terminal hemorrhoids. That should earn me a pass tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t count.” Cher laughed. “When you got your second opinion, the doctor decided that you just needed more fiber in your diet.”

Maggie turned off at the next exit and they stopped for donuts.

“You know, Cher, that guy in the orange jacket was giving you the eye.”

“The one with the plaid shorts? He was old enough to be my grandfather. Honestly, they don’t make enough Viagra in the world! Besides, darling, that biker was pretty interested in you.”

“I’ve only seen one man who could pull off braids in his beard, and that biker was no Johnny Depp.”

“He did have an eye patch.” Cher said. “That made him look kind of piratey.”

“It made him look like he just had cataracts removed.”

They spent the remainder of the journey in their own thoughts, comfortable with the silence and each other’s company