Spy Writer Poetry for the Muse

I’m not a poet… Never got the hang of the rhyme. But my words they come easy in matters of crime. It’s a shame, really, that the burning of a fuse can elicit more emotion in my words than my muse. There she sits sweetly, only feet away, inspiring a story of the heroine’s way.…

Lead up

“There’s no way we’re going to be ready if you don’t move your ass,” Charlene hissed, glaring at Rold’s back. Harold–Rold to those who knew him–leaned back in his chair until Charlene thought it would flip over. Rold just smiled. “Relax Charlie. The A players won’t be in position for another hour,” he said with…