Altered lives

The Eight Sentences:

The shooter relaxed and watched the rain collect on the windshield as the wiper blades paused for a few seconds between cycles. 

First, came images, then text. It was like e-mails appearing on the screen of her computer but now they were on the windshield right before her eyes. No time to read them as the wipers cleared them away with each wave. Always changing, more messages and no time to read nor savor them.

“Did my targets realize their own frailty, their vulnerability, their mortality? Were they able to adjust the length of time the blades of fate hesitate between each event?”

The light changed; the pace of the rain quickened and without a thought, her hand came up, her finger touched 
the lever, and the wipers went from intermittent to regular speed — with no pauses.

The Setup

    This weekend's eight sentences come from my first novel, The Tourist Killer. We have a targeted marketing program coming out in September. A blast of direct e-mails to subscribers who want info on books in this genre.

Claudia Barry is an elite professional assassin nearing retirement. 

She's a boomer. 

She's sixty-two years old. 

In this scene, while driving in Manhattan, she contemplates how her actions, as simple as the movement of one finger, can alter the lives of others.

What next?

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