This week for Sneak Peek Sunday I have posted ten sentences from a work in progress tentatively titled LAGNIAPPE NIGHTS. It's a mystery novel, but lighter than my Crescent City Mystery Series. It is still in its infancy, mostly because of time issues, but I do have the whole thing outlined. Like Gumbo Justice and Jambalaya Justice, it features a female prosecutor, but Josephine Badon is more of a misfit than my other protagonist. At least when the book begins.
It all started with a black leather thong. Not mine, and not even a fresh one, if you want to know the God’s honest truth. So not only was my husband cheating on me, he was cheating on me with a skank.
It came to light Tuesday afternoon, while I was at my desk reading through a homicide file. It wasn't a particularly interesting homicide, but even the boring murders demanded attention.
In its favor, the case was pretty standard in the way of New Orleans murders. Wanna-Be-Drug- Dealer-A shoots Wanna-Be-Drug-Dealer-B sixteen times. A low level rock head on Dealer B's team by the name of Tyrone “Skinny Man” Smith, who made Biggie Smalls and 50 Cent look like altar boys and was unfortunate enough to be the only witness to the shooting, had changed his story every time I spoke to him.
That was part of the reason I didn’t bother to read the police reports until right before trial. One fact you can bank on is that police reports rarely help the prosecution in murder cases.
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