So I finally killed a character in my erotic crime novelette, titled Sanguine Desires, the first one in an armada. The first in the Mumbai Noir series.
I am, partly, a cold, calculating, ruthless person with a heart of stone and a mind which always keeps plotting murder.
Because I am a crime writer. I kill people in my books. And make others kill them of course, turning them into killers.
Very noir-ish, right?
' Nikhil never expected the sudden, sharp pain from the blade which cut into his jugular vein, and then sliced through his cervical vertebrae.
His eyes widened in surprise, as Anu briefly withdrew the knife, and then thrust it back in the nape of his neck- twice. The third time, the knife came out the other side of Nikhil’s throat.
A jet of warm blood sprayed over Anu- splattering her face, shoulders and chest. Some of it also splattered on the pristine white tiled walls.
Nikhil’s eyes bulged in his sockets, looking at his wife. He tried to open his mouth, perhaps to say something. But all that came out was a loud gurgle as blood gushed from his severed blood vessels. It covered his chest and mixed into the foamy bath water.'--- Sanguine Desires, Mumbai Noir