Cold Kisses of Death
By Sheldon Woodbury
For a glorious few seconds, he suddenly knew what it felt like to be a God, as he lay sprawled in the snow and the lethal street drug filled his body with its magnificent power. His crimson red blood poured out to the ground like communal wine, and the hungry black rats crept out of the shadows to take sacramental nibbles of his now holy flesh. A beatific smile came to his ice cold lips, because the glowing snowflakes from the heavens above were anointing his radiant form with their splattered and frosty kisses of death.
Check out Sheldon Woodbury’s novel The World on Fire. You can see our review of the novel by clicking here. You can also take a look at his blog, Sheldon Woodbury — Writing from the Shadows
