Opening Lines

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Liz: Stupid snow. It makes dragging a body so darn hard.

Jessie: Grampa always swore that the legendary snow python existed but no one believed him until now.

Julie: Motorcycling through the snow after consuming a six pack–you can’t always cure stupid. We’ll find Earle after the big thaw. Such a shame. It was a nice bike.

Sherry: The townsfolk focused on the snow trench that hadn’t been there the night before. None of them noticed the shadow of someone, something, holding a sword who was creeping closer. I opened my mouth to scream, but it was too late.

Barb: As soon as the storm cleared, Leonard fled the cabin like the Road Runner with Wile E. Coyote on his tailfeathers. (Meep, meep!)

Edith: Jimmy said snowshoeing was fun. You’ll love it, he said. What I love is what I did to him at the end of the trail – and that I’ll never have to strap on the stupid snowshoes ever again.

Readers: Add yours in the comments!

21 Thoughts

  1. I was never going to be able to brush out the trail. The best I could do was obliterate the tell-tale heel-marks I’d left after dragging the body through the virgin snow.

  2. Dang Earline anyway. She WOULD set up a meeting at Darla’s rather than host it at her own home midway. Easier to trudge the half-mile through the snow than shovel five miles of driveways.

  3. Nothing and I mean nothing is going to stop me getting to the bookshop on new release day!

  4. Susan Hogan drove around Oak Grove, Texas, for two days before she realized there was a dead body in the trunk of her car. And it was another three days before she knew that someone was trying to kill her.

  5. Digging that big trench in the snow was just supposed to be a prank to make others wonder what was going on. But now it looked like I had someone stalking me.

  6. The freak snowstorm here in West Texas left us with four feet of snow over three days of cabin fever and I have to get out now despite not having snowshoes or skies. I will just have to slug it out and make it to town as soon as I can. There is a dead body that needs to be reported.

    And, yes it does sometimes snow in Texas. 😉

  7. And once again, as it did every year on Groundhog’s day in this part of the world, a rift opened in the packed snow, a sure sign that the great crocus had woken from sleep, and would soon lead the line of marching daffodils, and primroses, and dogwood in their fight to conquor the still icy serenity in time for the loudly squealing children to pull their brightly colored Easter eggs from the forks of the trees.

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