Prologue
“You know I’m feelin’ you, don’t you?” said Ken, placing Lisa’s hand upon his chest and feeling like the luckiest guy on earth. After leaving Club Fiesta an hour earlier, he had brought the lovely Miss Shelton back to his place. She enjoyed jazz, she had said, so Ken had put on ‘Unforgivable Blackness,’ by Winton Marsalis. She liked it. Now the two of them sat back on his living room couch and chatted. The mood had just gotten hot – and ripe for sex.
“Really?” Lisa traced the curve of his pecs, smiling. “How can you be feelin’ me when we just met?” Since breaking up with her ex over a month ago, this was the first time that she’d taken a strong interest in a man.
“Well . . . I like your style…and your conversation,” Ken responded. “And you’re quite gorgeous.” The two gazed at each other a moment, then Lisa placed the palm of her hand on Ken’s cheek. She drew her face toward his. Ken frowned. “Look, if this is gonna be a one-night stand,” he said, “then you’ve got the wrong guy. At this point in my life, I‘m looking for a serious relationship."
“I feel you on that. I didn’t want this to be a one-night stand either,” said Lisa.
“I need to ask you something,” Ken said. “And please be honest with me.” Lisa gave him a slight nod. “Do you plan to get back with your ex-boyfriend?”
“Definitely not. That’s over.”
“The reason I ask is, I’ve met women who were on the rebound from past relationships, and almost all of them ended up going back to their ex. If you are, tell me now; I won’t get upset or anything. I just don’t have time for drama.”
“Ken, you can trust me. What Tyler and I had is over. I told you that already.”
“Okay, cool,” said Ken, nodding.
“OK, what now?” Lisa said, smiling seductively at him. She sat forward and crossed her legs – slowly.
“Whatever you wanna do,” he answered, smiling back, as he rose from the couch. “But first, let me jump in the shower.”
“Want me to join you?” Lisa asked.
“No. I wanna save all my energy for the bedroom,” said Ken, looking hungrily at the pretty chocolate-complexioned figure that sat before him.
She got more than an eyeful of his ass as he sauntered off to the bathroom. Seconds later, she heard the shower running. She thought about how toned his muscles had felt as she caressed them, and began to wonder what sex between her and Ken would be like. “I hope it’s good. Please don’t let him be a sorry motherfucker,” she said aloud. Tossing her head back on the couch and propping her bare feet on the coffee table, she relaxed, allowing the tranquil surroundings to penetrate her spirit. I could get used to this, she thought, and heard a door open down the hall.
“How long have you had this place?” she called out.
“About five months,” Ken’s distant voice answered.
Lisa heard the bathroom door slam. Ken was now taking his shower, and she felt oddly alone. She grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and clicked its power button. Switching from one channel to the next, she came upon a college basketball game on ESPN. LSU and UCLA were sweating it out. It wasn’t long before Lisa was engrossed in the game.
Without warning, a dark electrical cord was swiftly wrapped around her neck. A strong yank, and her neck flared with pain. With quick reflexes, she tried desperately, with all ten fingers, to separate the cord from her neck. Lisa laboriously gagged for air. Her head was jerked upward, and she stared, wide-eyed, into the face of the man who had invited her back to his place for what she thought would be a night of passion. It had instead become a night of terror, and Lisa violently fought for her life. Why are you doing this? ran through her mind; she could feel her life rapidly slipping away. Her body began convulsing as her windpipe struggled to take in oxygen. Her strength was waning.
As darkness enveloped her, Lisa cursed her killer, who had brought her here only to take her life. This was not how she expected to meet Death! All she had wanted was to enjoy his company. Now, she was dying.
Quietly, the Breath of Life escaped her, and the darkness of eternal death followed. As Lisa’s lifeless body sagged on the couch, Ken Morrison unwound the cord from her neck. He swung around to the front of the couch to gaze into the face of his eighteenth victim, this young woman doomed from the moment she had laid eyes upon him.
Actually, she had been doomed from the moment the ATL Strangler had chosen her.
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