Sisters in Crime ~ Heart of Texas Chapter

Promoting Women Crime Writers

Best Worst First Lines

 

 2009 Best Worst First Line of a Mystery Story Event

Honoring Sage Micqui Miller

Sponsored by The Edwina Bulwer Lytton Caucus

Joyce Arquette, Spiritual Mother

It was neither stormy nor dark, and, in fact, was not even night when Micqui flipped her sort of curly grayish hair and then surreptitiously twiddled and caressed her recently sharpened Boy Scout knife as she maliciously glowered at her cheating, irresponsible (and unsuspecting) boyfriend.

SINC heart 5

Kaye George, Wandering Secretary

Micqui fought her way through the silently drifting, piling up really fast, downward coming, very cold, as it usually is, snow, her ill-shod freezing cold feet sinking in clear down, all the way up to her ankles, in the cold snow, because she had to get home as soon as humanly possible—well maybe just as soon as possible, humanly or not—and here she wished she were Wonderwoman—because she thought she might have left the stove turned on.

SINC heart 5

Weslynn McCallister, Member Wherever

On a quiet, humid night in Waco, Texas, Micqui Miller, a beloved resident and amateur sleuth, was awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of a door slamming shut and not bothering to awaken her husband who was ill, she rose and moved to the other side of the bed, opened the top drawer of the nightstand, and grabbed the flashlight and then she tip-toed quietly out of the bedroom and moved toward the area that she had heard the door slam, but just as she saw the tall figure of a man outlined against the sliding glass doors which she had locked before she had gone to bed, she slipped on the wet tile floor which indicated that the roof had leaked, and of all things that could go wrong, not only had she alerted the burglar that he’d been found out, she accidently hit herself on the forehead with the flashlight that she’d been carrying and knocked herself out.

SINC heart 5

2009 HONORARY MEMBERS (Though in fact it is in perpetuity, but we don’t tell them that in advance.)

Gale Hathcock, 2009 Aspiring Writer

Micqui Miller stood in my office door holding a gun, the dame who had torched a hole in the ozone layer of my heart.

SINC heart 5

Susan Rogers Cooper, 2009 Mentor Author

Micqui awoke in the wilderness – not just any wilderness, but the kind of wilderness that is wild, and full of wild things that make you wonder if the word wilderness is actually a form of the word wild or if they’re two separate words that just make you think of one when you say the other.

SINC heart 5

Helen Ginger, 2009 Mentor Author

The sun stabbing through ominous clouds like blood seeping through denim, slow and splattered, sent shafts of light slicing through the sky, encircling mud puddles, abandoned chairs, overturned beer bottles drained of their sweet mahogany nectar, and one anthracite -haired, Shar-Pei wrinkled, drenched, shrunken woman sitting in a blue and green mesh striped lawn chair, eyes narrowed, lips pulled back in a skeletal grin, who squeezed a fist to the sky and whispered through clenched teeth, “Jokes on you, all you damned weather wizards with your forecasts of clear skies. You didn’t get my Micqui Miller book this time! I laminated every single page. Just like I did my second husband.

SINC heart 5

Jan Grape, 2009 Mentor Author

The really, really black sky hovered low over the really small town where the really horrid heat and humidity pushed against all the town people like an orange and white very wet blanket causing a young woman named Micqui,  to look askance at her red-neck-tobacco-chewing -beer-guzzling husband as he lay asleep and snoring on the orange and white sofa while she gingerly ran a finger over the newly sharpened butcher knife while wishing for a Hugh Jackson look-alike to come and sweep her off her size ten feet, and all the while wishing she had the guts of that lady named Bobbit; instead she pumped her fist into the air, her index finger and little finger extended and whispered, “Hook ‘em Horns!!”

SINC heart 5

Diane Holmes, 2009 Aspiring Writer

Marilee picked up the zucchini and said, “This vile murder weapon has been filed to a pointy nubbin and laced with poisonous Miracle Grow, before impaling the beloved and radiant Micqui, who will recover and write about this in her next novel.

SINC heart 5

Jan Grape, 2009 Mentor Author

The really, really black sky hovered low over the really small town where the really horrid heat and humidity pushed against all the town people like an orange and white very wet blanket causing a young woman named Micqui,  to look askance at her red-neck-tobacco-chewing -beer-guzzling husband as he lay asleep and snoring on the orange and white sofa while she gingerly ran a finger over the newly sharpened butcher knife while wishing for a Hugh Jackson look-alike to come and sweep her off her size ten feet, and all the while wishing she had the guts of that lady named Bobbit; instead she pumped her fist into the air, her index finger and little finger extended and whispered, “Hook ‘em Horns!!”

SINC heart 5

Diane Holmes, 2009 Aspiring Writer

Marilee picked up the zucchini and said, “This vile murder weapon has been filed to a pointy nubbin and laced with poisonous Miracle Grow, before impaling the beloved and radiant Micqui, who will recover and write about this in her next novel.

SINC heart 5 

Joan Upton Hall, 2009 Mentor Author

As the killer’s big gas-guzzling SUV T-boned Micqui’s environmentally friendly car, at that point in time, her lack-luster life flashed before her eyes, boring even her, due to the fact that, in the grand scheme of things, she thought, getting this guy arrested for homicide with a motor vehicle and having the police put him in jail and throwing away the key might be her greatest claim to fame.

SINC heart 5

Russ Hall, 2009 Mentor Author, and Jennifer Old, 2009 Aspiring Writer

Micqui Miller always said she wanted to get ahead, which is why she was the first person we turned to when we found the decapitated body.

There was no Lassie to bark to us that Timmy was in the well, and twasn’t a Timmy anyway, but a Micqui, the now officially late Miqui Miller, and from the way she was tangled up in the rope we had to guess she’d kicked the bucket on the way down.

SINC heart 5

Lorie Shaw, 2009 Aspiring Writer

Micqui Miller, perfumer to the pop stars, stepped over the rotting corpse in the studio threshold, crinkled her nose knowingly, and proclaimed, “I think I smell Eau de Mystery.

SINC heart 5

Sylvia Dickey Smith, 2009 Mentor Author

Micqui hurriedly ran down the long long hallway and dashed into the super hot kitchen that felt like the oven had been roasting ten pigs wrapped in thermal blankets until she noticed flames shooting out of the refrigerator like Satan had taken up residence and moved in lock stock and barrel–ahhhhh, her lover finally came to call!

SINC heart 5

C. L. Phillips, 2009 Aspiring Writer

The north wind blew cold across Micqui’s softly lined face as Jake fell from the fifty-first story hotel balcony while she watched in silent horror at what she had single-handedly done, had meant to do, and now regretted if only for a fleeting moment before she replaced her revulsion with that little self-satisfied, impish grin that always accompanied these surprising moments in which she knew her killing season had started again without provocation for the thirty-seventh consecutive year.

SINC heart 5

Vallie Taylor, 2009 Mentor Author

Detective Norwood stared down at the lifeless female body in the bathtub as he pointed out to volunteer sleuth Micqui Miller that the fact she was almost totally covered in oatmeal was designed to make law enforcement believe she was giving herself a beauty treatment when in fact, he confided to wide-eyed Micqui, “This is the work of a well known cereal killer.

SINC heart 5

C. L. Phillips, 2009 Aspiring Writer

The north wind blew cold across Micqui’s softly lined face as Jake fell from the fifty-first story hotel balcony while she watched in silent horror at what she had single-handedly done, had meant to do, and now regretted if only for a fleeting moment before she replaced her revulsion with that little self-satisfied, impish grin that always accompanied these surprising moments in which she knew her killing season had started again without provocation for the thirty-seventh consecutive year.

SINC heart 5 

Vallie Taylor, 2009 Mentor Author

Detective Norwood stared down at the lifeless female body in the bathtub as he pointed out to volunteer sleuth Micqui Miller that the fact she was almost totally covered in oatmeal was designed to make law enforcement believe she was giving herself a beauty treatment when in fact, he confided to wide-eyed Micqui, “This is the work of a well known cereal killer.

SINC heart 5

Anna Slade, 2009 Aspiring Writer

It was a dark stormy night and Micqui, a really knock-dead gorgeous and lovely young woman whose boyfriend was a knock-dead gorgeous vampire with super powers, alone in the lovely old house because her beau was busy saving the world, heard a child’s cry for help, jumped out of her lovely silk-sheeted bed, loped upstairs in her lovely pink baby doll pajamas and climbed the rickety attic stairs; too bad she’d left her grandfather’s dead accurate Glock by the lovely antique nightstand, right next to her boyfriend Slasher’s hidden bottle of blood.

SINC heart 5

George Wilhite, 2009 Mentor Author

Her name was Miller, Micqui Miller–spelled funny and all exotic, like a topless clown stripper, so that you didn’t know whether to laugh or get excited–and they were giving her an award, an award she’d have shunned if she’d only known how much it would cost–$22.95, I think with the senior discount and state taxes, but taxes are another mystery, one best left for brightly lit daytime talk because they’re too damned scary to consider in the dark.

SINC heart 5

Ricardo White, 2009 Aspiring Writer

Micqui looked into her past and saw her future.

SINC heart 5

In the name of multiple clauses and run-on sentences, with and without commas, I remain occasionally, though without warning, and also without the blood-stained cloak that I requested, and no heap of male pulchritude upon my doorstep, dead or not, respectfully yours, usually,

Sarah Ann Robertson, Guiding Spirit, really rather most of the time though occasionally not, perhaps sometimes not at all, if only…
Fourth Annual 2009 Best Worst First Line of a Mystery Story Event
Sisters in Crime Heart of Texas Chapter

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