Six Sentence Sunday

This is from The Little Death, a novella due out in October. My homage to Chandler. In this part, Detective Jake Falconer reminisces about his ex. His name was Kyle Gomez, always cute as a kitten in a mitten in his dress blues, his hair as glossy black as fresh tar and his eyes like two melted-down pennies, a coppery kind of brown that I swear seemed to shade darker or lighter depending on his mood. I always said he was too good looking to be a cop, and that was still true. I could get a semi thinking about the hard body beneath that polyester uniform, and the secret tattoo on the inside of his right thigh, the sword with wings that only his lovers ever knew about. Our break up wasn’t great. He said I drank too much, that I had no ambition, and I couldn’t...

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