Diary Of The Dark: Entry 3
Diary of the Dark...Entry 3
I hope that you're enjoying these, and it's giving you a taste of what's to come.
This has been one of my favourite books to write, and I'm having even more fun with book two. Yes, book two. I'm hoping to have it out to you by the end of October. Exciting!
Don't forget to enter the giveaway again, and share with your apocalypse loving friends!
And remember to keep checking my author page for other random giveaways that I have going on leading up to the release.
There's one running right now to win a paperback of Thicker than Blood! So head on over and
Diary of the Dark Entry 3
I get paid to erase problems.
Did your extramarital affair produce an unwanted complication? Family problems? Just want to enjoy your midlife crisis by yourself?
That's where I come in. For a fee I'll take care of it. A big fee.
Only, I'm not going to do what you think. I'm not going to save you from them, I’m going to save them from you.
Dirty Deeds (Excerpt) by Armand Rosamilia
I get paid large sums of money to kill children.
I'll let that horrific sentence sink in before I tell you what I really do for a living.
More specifically, I move children from horrific situations with parents, guardians, and wicked people and place them with someone who will watch over them. Take care of them. Not want them dead.
How and why do I do this? We'll get back to the nitty gritty in a bit. For now...
"How much money to kill my daughter?"
I frowned and stared at the man. Without an answer, I walked to his office desk and sat down in the guest chair, and motioned for him to join me. I put my satchel on the floor within easy reach.
He took his time, trying to seem casual, walking around his desk and dropping into his chair.
I notice things.
A picture of his daughter was on the filing cabinet to my right. His hands were shaking and he couldn't make eye contact. He was sweating despite the air turned down low, and when I'd first walked into his office, I noticed his secretary was not at her desk.
John Caruso was one of the big shot lawyers in Philadelphia, but I would be stupid not to do my job and figure out the background of a potential client before we met. This guy had a couple of red flags and I was going to have my due diligence with John before we went any further.
I chuckled without humor and sat up in the chair. "If I'm not mistaken, you just asked me how much to kill your daughter?"
He nodded, his hands on the desk. When he moved his right hand to his phone on the desk he stopped, his hand shaking.
John was wearing a dress shirt. It most likely cost as much as my entire wardrobe. Especially what I was wearing. He was sweating so badly I could see his chest hair through it.
Me? I was calm and casual.
In the movies, the killer is always dressed smartly. Expensive Italian suits. Diamond-studded watch. Shoes like butter and worth the cost of a Porsche.
I was wearing a pair of jeans I'd bought at Wal-Mart, a black t-shirt that came in a pack of three, and boat shoes. Very comfortable, but not butter-comfortable. The most expensive thing I wore was the gold chain and cross around my neck, a gift from my deceased mother.
The pen on this guy's desk cost more than everything I had on even if you added in the cash from my wallet. I was sure his phone had every app imaginable to mankind and he didn't worry about his monthly bill.
"Don't play with me, Mister Aaron. You know exactly why you're here," John said. He sat up and his hands stopped shaking.
I knew the look on his face. He thought he had me. This little weasel thought he was back in control.
I turned my head and looked around the room. When I turned back to him he looked confused.
"I need water. Is there any way, before we begin the transaction that will change your life, you can get me a glass of water?" I asked.
"Uh... sure. I have bottled water."
I smiled and tried to fake warmth for this snake. "Actually, a tall glass of water is better. I don't even need it cold. I just need a lot of water." I touched my lips. "I get very thirsty doing this. You understand, right?"
"I have tap water," he said.
John nodded and went out of the office and into his bathroom.
I scooped up his phone and sliced my finger across it, unlocking it quickly. These big shots were all the same: they'd spend thousands of dollars on home security but set their passwords to their computers so an eight year old could crack it, and never put anything safety-wise on their cell phone. I wasn’t tech-savvy at all, but I’d paid a lot of money to learn the tricks I needed to learn over the years. I knew enough to keep me from getting backed into a corner or caught doing something stupid.
I found what I was looking for but didn't bother doing anything with it. I knew the score now.
John returned with the water and I sat up. I'd put his phone back but made sure it was moved half a foot to the right, away from him.
He noticed it right away and looked like he was about to run.
I put a finger to my lips and stood, taking the glass of water and taking a sip.
John didn't move.
The side of his mouth twitched when I picked up his cell phone.
"I think we got off to a bad start, Mister Caruso. You mistook me for someone else. Someone bad. I was contacted by a friend of a friend of a friend. This is how this happens and gets me in your office," I said. I sat back down and put the phone next to my glass of water.
I motioned for him to sit and I picked up my satchel from the floor on my side, keeping eye contact with the lawyer so he didn't bolt.
"I am selling this and I was told you had money for the purchase," I said and produced a 1973 Topps Mike Schmidt rookie baseball card, sealed and graded Gem Mint. Perfect 10. "You won't find this card in a better quality than this. Make me an offer I can't refuse."
John looked confused as he stared at the baseball card in my hand.
"I didn't invite you to my office to buy a damn baseball card," he said.
I picked up his phone with my free hand.
"Then I'm sorry for wasting your time. I really thought I was here to sell you a Schmidt rookie. I figured since we're in Philadelphia and you're obviously a hometown fan, it made sense to me. My bad. I'll be on my way," I said and stood, dropping his phone into the glass of water.
I have a few projects I’m working on at the moment.
“Belford Stories” is a contemporary fiction novel. Release date is in early April.
“Dying Days 6” zombie novel will be out around June.
“Dirty Deeds 2” crime thriller is about halfway done.
Plus a bunch of other things.
What makes you want to write about dystopia/the apocalypse and/or horror?
I’ve always been a big fan as a reader. Brian Keene’s “The Rising” is what got me writing zombie fiction. I just love the dark stories and the dark side to each and every one of us. Especially you!
Are you a prepper with an apocalypse plan in place, or are you just going to wing it?
Totally going to wing it and hope I die fairly early. I am fat and don’t want to have to run from zombies or aliens or whatever. I want to die quickly while eating M&M’s.
What’s your apocalypse/horror song?
Like everyone else, anything off of the “Beaches” soundtrack.
When writing do you outline or fly by the seat of your pants!?
Total pantser. I cannot work with an outline other than maybe a line or two as an idea for a future chapter, but never anything more than that.
What was the last book you read, and what is the next one lined up?
I just finished “Hitler’s Escape,” a nonfiction book. I read a lot of nonfiction and get some great ideas for future stories. Next up will be a suspense book, “Dead Wake,” by Dawn Lee McKenna. I love this series.
If you could collaborate with any other indie author, who would it be?
Definitely Brian Keene. I’ve been lucky enough to have co-written several books with authors I like such as Jay Wilburn, Jack Wallen, Brent Abell, Frank J Edler, Robert Chazz Chute and Mark Tufo.
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