Promotion Writing
Nadirah Foxx  

Frisky Friday Flash Fiction

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It’s Friday! Are you warm? Are you safe? Both valid questions with this week’s weather. Burrrr… Even Atlanta got chilly. My office turns into a freezer at night. For someone who is always too hot, I found myself reaching for the sweater and socks over the last few days.

When it’s cold outside, one thing I love to do is curl up with a good book. You might want to check out the latest by my alter ego if you’re into vampire romances.

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Ready for the second installment in my new episodic flash fiction?

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Part Two


Calvin Reeves 

An hour later, and I saw no sign of the woman or her dog. Cruising up and down Mulholland Drive had been a major waste of time.

Could I have heard her wrong?

I doubted it.

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After ten years on the job, I prided myself on my observation skills. Details mattered. Words gave way to clues.

My phone rang, and I pushed the button on the dashboard.


“Detective, it’s Connie Hidalgo with the coroner’s office. Are you on your way to the station?”

“No.” Getting up before the crack of dawn left me tired and hungry. “What’s up?”

“I have a preliminary report on the victim.”

“I’m listening.”

“There was evidence of semen on the sheets.”

“So he had sex before someone murdered him.” Not a big deal. “The point, Connie?”

“But there was no evidence of vaginal fluid.”

I turned onto Cahuenga and pressed the gas pedal. “How old was the sample?”

She sighed. “Still fresh. It hadn’t dried yet.”

My nose wrinkled. Although I loved solving puzzles as a kid, handling disgusting samples didn’t thrill me. I never understood the fascination people like Connie had with their job.

As far as the victim went, there were two possibilities. Either Wright had sex with a man, or he was into self-preservation. I went with the former, hoping that whoever was in his bed also killed him.

“Can you lift DNA?”

“I’ll start the test,” she said with enthusiasm.

“Good. I’ll be back in an hour. If anyone needs me before then, I’ll be at home.”

I wanted a shower and a cup of coffee. My loft was less than ten minutes from the crime scene—one reason they called me. The other had to do with my expertise. I hadn’t failed to solve a case since the chief assigned me to the precinct. The morning commuters had already clogged the roadways, so I kept to the access road and took the back streets home.

The high-rise apartment was perfect for me. It offered a full gym, a pool, a dog run, and a fantastic view of the Hollywood Hills. Plus, there were guest services helping a single man like me.

But first coffee.

I pulled up to the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf and shut off the motor. It was early enough for my favorite brunette barista to be on duty.

“Hi, Cal,” said Marisa as I came through the door. “The usual?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She frowned. “You look tired. Have you eaten? How about breakfast?”

Yes, Marisa was being a pain in my ass, but she looked out for me. “Ham, egg, and cheese brioche.”

She smiled. “That’s more like it. I’ll even join you.”

I glanced around the shop. There were only a few stragglers and nobody else in line. “Don’t you have to work?”

“I can eat. Grab a table.”

Five minutes later, Marisa placed cups of coffee and the sandwiches in front of me before sitting down. “So why haven’t you been home?”

I grinned and reached for a cup. “I thought I was the detective.”

“My big brother taught me well.”

Did I forget to mention that Marisa was my kid sister?

“Homicide case.”

“I’m sorry. Any leads?”

“Possibly. I’ll check in at the station after I go home and shower.”

“You could use a nap, too.” She bit down on her sandwich. Around a mouthful, she asked, “Want me to take Scamp off your hands for a bit?”

My ex’s Pembroke Corgi lived with me. The little guy was the only good thing that survived my brief marriage. My former wife decided taking care of the dog, something that she begged the hell out of me for, would cramp her style. After kicking my ass to the curb, she became a jet-setter. Last I heard, she’d hooked some rich guy from England.

I yawned and dragged a hand over my scruffy face. “That would be great. You can pick him up after your shift. Poor guy’s been cooped up all weekend.”

Thanks to my working overtime.

Marisa cocked her head to one side. “You need to bounce anything off me?”

“Naw. Once I speak to the lab, I’ll know about the killer.”

At least, that was what I hoped for. 

Connie called me as soon as I entered my apartment. “The only DNA belonged to the victim.”

I tossed my leather jacket on the sofa and headed for the bedroom. “You’re sure?”


Scratching my head, I said, “So I’m supposed to believe that the victim masturbated before someone slit his throat?”

“Or the perp wore a condom.”

I stopped just inside the doorway to the bathroom. “Anal sex?”

“Possibly. There were signs of penetration.”

“Thanks a lot, Connie.” I disconnected and turned on the shower. 

It was time to work up a profile.

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Have a great weekend! Stay warm!

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