Where’s the Beef?

stockvault-walking-cowgirl193649As a writer, I generally serve up to publishers entrees.

A rack of smoked ribs, a bone-in pork chop smothered in gravy or a 2-inch thick T-bone steak medium rare and recently mooing, my tales have bone and gristle and fat. A reader can chew on them.

Twisted Intent is different.

Twisted Intent is a cupcake.

A tiny one on a doily.

Light-hearted, compact and sweet, I shudder to think how this will go down.

Until tomorrow…


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