New Moon On Monday
I killed him.
Slowly my anger ebbs. But no one, not even God, can undo what I have done in cold murderous rage.
I blink and take a long calming breath.
Blood is everywhere.
He lies there, forever asleep in death.
His once handsome face freezes in shock and pain.
A green fly appears out of nowhere and lands on his bare furry chest.
The shattered bottle of love potion has soaked through the cheap thin carpet.
The unused condom is still in his hand.
I can't help but laugh.
My ragged, almost silent laughter echos through the air and sounds rough in my ears.
My thirty-three years of life is worse than a joke and a total mess.
My brand new silvery cake knife protrudes from his chest, buried to the hilt.
I thought I was destined to be caught between two lovers and torn between two men.
But Fate decided to intervene and thus forced my hand.
Now there is only one left.
And I desperately hope he hasn't walked away.
My name is Stephanie Plum.
I am not exactly sure why I killed Joe, truth be told.
But I feel no remorse, and no regret.