by MarktheAuthor | Jan 23, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Three Musketeers “You are the Lifesaver candy I always believed in.” Renée had her arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, eyes shimmering with relief and delight, openly displaying her gratitude. She nearly glowed—a rare sight in my recollections—untouched by the gray cell...
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 21, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Just for Kicks Before we made it halfway back to the police station, the jovial and infectious Officer Ollie Gerulis pulled me over for the second time in two days. I watched in the rearview mirror as the emergency lights from the cruiser splashed cheerful colors all...
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 19, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Truth Or Lies We drove to meet with Lorna and Vicky overflowing with conjecture about strange Deputy Spiesz and his dimwitted devotion to simplicity. “I’ve known a couple cops like him,” Tony said, his words laced with a hint of admiration. “Good to have for backup....
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 16, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Bad Water, Bad Timing Officer Gerulis was chomping on a bologna sandwich when we arrived at the station. I noticed for the first time the outdated posters on the walls, faded and peeling from years of exposure to the cigarette and cigar smoke of railroad magnates....
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 14, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Dinner with Friends The diner’s bell resounded with less cheer on my second visit. Faye Jenkins, however, glowed behind the counter, red hair piled high like an undiscovered comedienne from the 50s. Vibrant energy lent a playful twinkle to her bright blue eyes. Her...
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 12, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Back Off The vast expanse from the station door to Ollie’s island desk took a lifetime to cross before I halted in front of him and asked, “Just how unhinged is that Aidan Peale?” Ollie gaped. Settled back in his chair, thick fingers interlaced behind his head, he’d...
