The villain stopped his swagger immediately upon hearing the hoot of the owl perched on the lower bough of a tree snuggled in the musky forest. His tough aura vanished as he sat on the log. He reached for the … Continue reading →
 | oneta hayes on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
| oneta hayes on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
 | James McEwan on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
 | Dale on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
| oneta hayes on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
 | pranabaxom on YOUR HEART CAN’T SING? F… |
| Dale on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
| oneta hayes on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
| oneta hayes on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
| James McEwan on THE KILLER TYPEWRITER |
