The Killing Continues - Update

In this post I want to discuss the second book of my three book series killer on the loose. I am almost finished with the first draft.

In The Killing Continues, it is the summer of 1974 and Franklin Rogers heads back home to Kingfisher after finishing his Freshman year at Boston College. During his first year at Boston College, Franklin murdered two coeds. These two murders were necessitated by his insatiable need to kill. They were done to tide him over until he could get back to Kingfisher and torment his Junior High School bully. His hatred of Konnor Williams, gave his need to kill a purpose - revenge. But a revenge designed to make life emotionally painful by killing Konnor's family and friends. Franklin does intend to kill Konnor. He just wants him to live through a lot of emotional pain first.

In this second book, I focus more on the interaction of Franklin and Konnor. Franklin has decided that another way to get to Konnor would be on a more personal way. Dig deeper into his emotions. The first chapter - Dead Relationships - gives a clue of how he plans to prey on Konnor's emotions beyond grief. Below is the first draft of Dead Relationships:

Franklin Rogers drove into Kingfisher, Oklahoma late Sunday night.  The two day drive would have seemed longer if he hadn’t been busy thinking about the things he could do to fuck with Konnor Williams.  Friday, his last day of class, he had called his big brother, Kingfisher County Deputy Sheriff Bernie Rogers, to see if he would be interested in meeting him at the Patio Cafe Monday morning for breakfast.  They had agreed to meet at eight.

Franklin used his key to slip into his parent’s house while they slept.  He had told them not to wait up because it would be late before he got to town.  He carried his suitcase to his bedroom, then laid down on top of his bed.  Sleep did not take long to take over his night.

Franklin sat in a booth in the Patio Cafe across from his brother Bernie.  Franklin, busy thinking about his next kill and how it might fuck with Konnor Williams, barely heard Bernie when he spoke.

“How was your first year at Boston College?” Bernie asked.

“What?  I’m sorry?”

“I asked how it went this past year?”

“It went well.  Classes were not too difficult,” Franklin said.

He looked out the window towards main street and the Kingfisher County Courthouse.  Next to it he could see the north edge of the county jail, the rest of it was obscured by a huge church built around the turn of the century.  The Patio Cafe sat on the northwest corner of Highway 33 and north Seventh Street, a block west of Main Street.

“How have things been going around here?  Have you found out who killed those people last summer?” Franklin asked. “Has anyone else been murdered?”

“No.  No more killings.  And no, we haven’t figured out who did the killings.  Sheriff Johnson thinks whoever it was done moved on since no one else has been kilt," Bernie said.

Franklin lost interest in what Bernie was saying when Konnor Williams and Sherri Gregston walked through the front door of the Patio Cafe.  They stood shoulder to shoulder while they looked for a place to sit.

I wonder if they are dating.  If so, it did not take long for Konnor to get over Susan.  Franklin thought as he watched Konnor and Sherri walk in his direction.  She looks like she will make a suitable victim.  And that body of hers.  She is smokin’ hot.  I think I will fuck her before killing her.  Hell, I might just take her away from Konnor and wait to kill her. Have her as my own for a while first. That will really get under Konnor's skin if I flaunt my new sexual conquest in front of the looser.

Franklin made momentary eye contact with Konnor when he and Sherri walked up to the booth next to his.  They took a seat together with their backs to Franklin’s booth.  This put them with their backs to Franklin.

Franklin was a little steamed when Konnor showed no recognition when their eyes met.

How could that asshole not remember me?  Especially after last summer when I tried to take his girlfriend away from him that night at the river party.  Franklin thought.  How could he not remember me after all the shit he has put me through in 7th grade?  That asshole remembers me.  He just chooses to disrespect me by ignoring me.  I will show him.  He will suffer greatly before this summer break is over.

Franklin tried to overhear what Konnor and Sherri were discussing.  They had already placed their food orders when Konnor started to talk.  His voice sounded pleading.

“Come on Sherri, skip work on Friday and help me celebrate my birthday.  Let’s go swimming at the cliff.  It could be fun,” Konnor said.

“I would, but what am I going to tell Mae?  I'm the only barmaid Mae and Jim have when the Town House opens each day, including Friday,” Sherri said.  She started working at the Town House beer joint a couple months before school let out for the summer.  Mae and Jim Lambert, owners of the Town House, were good bosses.  And bonus, the tips there were great.

“Tell them you have a doctor’s appointment,” Konnor said.

“Okay, since it is your birthday,” Sherri said.

“Earth to Franklin,” Bernie said. “Are you listening to me?”

“Sorry, I guess I am a little tired from the long drive.  Plus, my brain may be a little fried from a year of college classes,” Franklin said.  He had been distracted by the thought of showing up at the cliff lake and disrupting Konnor’s birthday swim.  “What were you saying?”

“Did you have fun at Boston College?” Bernie asked.

“It was fun.  A lot of work but fun.”

“Did you meet any girls?” Bernie asked.

“I did meet some girls in the course of the year.  I dated a couple of them.  Unfortunately, those relationships died.”

The Killing Begins is my first effort at writing a Literary Thriller. The series killer on the loose is not a mystery. The killer is revealed to the reader. What the series is about is Franklin Rogers' obsessive need to kill. He mates that obsession with a desire to inflict as much emotional pain as possible on Konnor Williams. Franklin hates Konnor because of an incident in their past.

I call this series a LIterary Thriller, not just simply a Thriller. I have always written in a Literary manor - meaning my books are not written using a plot. My style of writing, Literary, allows my characters to write the story. I start with an idea - in this case an obsession to kill mated with hatred - then I write down what the characters' personalities dictate as they unfold the story for me. I get so lost in my characters' stories that often I will reread something and have no recollection writing it. I know this sounds weird. But, then again, I am also a little weird. I do believe weird has a place in the Literary world.

So don't let the term Literary throw you off. I know there are those that think Literary novels are for book snobs. In reality, Literary simply means character driven instead of plot driven. Think of Literary novels as Alternative (Indie) music. They do not quite fit into the cookie cutter mainstream. Which, for me, means what you will discover in Literary novels, just as in Alternative music, is new and quite often interesting. But, I digress. In my defense, my blog page title "Ramblings of a Writer" foreshadows my digressions.

The three books in this series are designed to be read in order. I am making an effort to include enough back stories to make each book make sense if read out of order. But, the full impact of the story can only be appreciated by reading them in order.

I hope you enjoy the books in this series. Let me know what you think. I love to hear from my readers. And please, help a self published author out by leaving a rating and/or review on Amazon. If you are a member of Goodreads, I am a Goodreads Author and appreciate reviews there as well. Unsure how to write a review, no problem, it does not have to be a critical masterpiece. You can find information on one of my earlier blogs. This link will take you there: The Importance of Book Reviews to an Indie Author

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. I appreciate all of you. Feel free to comment.