Sample Post from the Other Genre this Month:

Ana Khist posts in Short Cuts

It was quite possibly the neatest, tidiest burglary she’d ever done. A little lock picking meant there was no smashed glass, a little rewiring meant there was no video footage, and of course the right gloves and boots left no fingerprints.

It was handy that she knew the shop already, if fact she’d scoped it as soon as Freddy the Fence – not his real name – became a regular contact, just in case anything like this ever happened. It paid to be prepared.

All of which meant that it actually came as a complete surprise when, halfway through a methodical search of anything and everything, she was interrupted.

By men in masks.

Ana whirled around with a paperweight in her hand and knocked the first one unconscious as soon as she heard the footsteps, but there were about ten of them, or at least that was how many she counted between the gun barrel resting on her temple, her hands being cuffed and the blindfold going on.

It was all far too neat and tidy. She never stood a chance, and those kinds of odds always pissed her off. Ana struggled against the hands half-carrying, half-dragging her out of the cold dankness of the shop and into the fresh air. She had half a hope of rescue if they were outside, but then, if somebody rescued her, there’d be all sorts of awkward questions, like what’s your name? What were you doing in that shop?

So she didn’t even bother screaming. She’d have to get out of this, whatever this was, on her own.

She was all but thrown into another cold space. The sound of door slamming followed the sound of an engine roaring to life, and then motion.

Ana manoeuvred herself into an upright position, cursing. Well, hell, she’d been waiting for the hammer to fall, and since this obviously wasn’t police, she guessed the hammer had fallen a bit harder than expected.

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