Thursday, February 1, 2018

Sheila Will Return

Statistically it’s been proven that women commit only about 11 percent of all murders. Also, that while women do use guns, poison is still a favorite weapon of the female.

Women kill significant others, acquaintances, even children but very few strangers.

My serial killer, Sheila doesn’t discriminate. She’ll kill anyone, and she loves all types of weapons. But for some reason I've hit a road block when it comes to Sheila's murderous adventure. So maybe I need to 'just do it' - 'just write'!


“The scariest moment is always just before you start.”

~ Stephen King ~

Stay tuned. Sheila will return!

Here are some links about murder that you might find helpful in your own writing.

FBI Crime Stats

Murder and Gender

Wednesday, January 4, 2017


The fog was thicker than pea soup and murkier than mud. Still, it worked out to be the best cover possible. Especially as murder was the goal.
Sheila had changed her looks. Now a platinum blond, the color did little to help her hide. She was even more of a standout than before. She didn’t care. She flaunted her freedom!

But tonight, she was covered from head to toe in black. No platinum and barely the whites of her eyes were visible.
Sheila had a goal. She was going to get her revenge on the man that brought all her dreams to a standstill. Bill, the man who set her up and ruined her marriage plans with Hank.
Sheila hadn’t forgotten that Hank was part of the setup, but his comeuppance would happen last after she took out all those who’d betrayed her.
Bill made number one on her list simply because his was the first name she’d pulled out of the hat.
She’d observed him for several weeks. He loved regularity, and with his dog Duke, he walked the beach daily. No longer a Navy man, he lived on the money his mother had left him when she died just days after he got back from Afghanistan.
He’d bought a small house on Jekyll Island, Georgia, and was enjoying the quiet life. He was working on a book. Sheila didn’t know that, or the fact that she was the subject.

Sheila watched, waited, and when Duke, his black lab, took off running down the beach. Sheila had Bill in her sights and fired. Her new M24 Sniper’s Rifle and extensive training made the shot count. Bill fell, and Duke ran to his side.
Sheila was already on her way home.
“One down, dozens to go.” Shelia laughed as she drove off in her new Porsche.

Yolanda Renée © 2017

Sheila's Murderous Journey
just click the links!

Remember folks - this is all fiction -
an  exercise of the imagination!

Tuesday, December 27, 2016




            Joe handed Sheila the day's mail. His fingers softly caressing her hand but if she noticed, she didn't let on. He'd been interested for sometime in the beautiful silent woman, but she never gave him the time of day. Her eyes never met his. His heart broke for her, even though he knew all of her crimes, the more he saw of her, the more convinced he became that she was innocent. She'd been set up by that nasty soldier that had brought her to justice, he was certain of it.

            Joe Trenton had been a prison guard for over fifteen years; he was married and had three children. This was the first time he'd ever been attracted to one of his charges. At first, he fought his burgeoning feelings of affection. He never voiced them, but a touch, a small gift of chocolate, and a book of poetry conveyed what he couldn't. He never signed his gifts, and if she knew they were from him, she didn't let on. Still, his unspoken affection grew.

            Sheila kept her silence. She never spoke a word to anyone, not the other prisoners, or the guards, and no one bothered her either. Her mother made sure that Sheila had protection. She'd bought and paid inmates and guards to keep the riff raff away from her daughter. Darla believed in Sheila's innocence, and did everything in her power to assure her safety on the inside and pursued all legal venues possible on the outside.

Letters from fans continued to arrive daily, and as Sheila read them, even she began to believe in her innocence. Revenge became her goal, escape her desire, and silence her tool. Joe had made an impression, but Sheila didn't respond to his flirtations and surprisingly he seemed to like it that way.

She didn't speak, but she did write, but only to one fan. Her letters went out daily. She never asked for a thing, only wrote of her hopes and dreams, of a life outside prison walls. She wrote of her desire to find true love and filled her letters with X-rated versions of the love she would bestow on the lucky recipient. The receiver read them and with each letter, his attraction to and desire for Sheila grew. He believed in her innocence and her promises of love but more importantly, his sexual appetites rivaled her own. He wrote of his own hedonistic desires with descriptions of bondage and, sadism, and his willingness to dominate along with the promise of devotion and eternal love.

Written in code, Sheila knew the authorities read her words, and she had no desire to titillate the warden or his lackeys, especially as discussions of escape became the main topic!

Two years from the date of her conviction, Sheila disappeared from her cell. They discovered Joe Trenton's body in her bed. The guard who delivered her mail had died with a smile on his face but a nail in his heart. Sheila had taken his clothes, his identification, and his car. She'd gotten away, walked out as though she owned the place. Joe Trenton, a guard for fifteen years, had fallen for his first prisoner and paid with his life.

After a thorough investigation, they found that Joe had procured a post office box in a nearby city and found Sheila's last letter.

Her last words were "La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froide" Revenge is a dish best served cold.  

Yolanda Renée © 2016

Yolanda Renée © 2016

Read more of 

Sheila's Murderous Journey 

just click the links!

Remember folks - this is all fiction -
an  exercise of the imagination!

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Monday, September 19, 2016


The police did their thing, and Hank followed the ambulance carrying Sheila to the hospital. That's where she told her story.
With the police present, Sheila told how Bill had invited her for a drink the night before and served her a drink laced with drugs. She wasn't aware that anything was wrong until she woke up on the beach. She began walking home where Hank found her. She allowed him to think sex with Bill was consensual because she didn't want Hank to over react and she felt guilty, after all, she'd accepted Bill's invitation. Now she was claiming that sex with Bill, wasn't consensual. He'd drugged her.
"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
"He threatened me. That night he came to the door. You looked away, well, you looked at me, and he made two silent signs. One finger against his lips signaling silence then he sliced it across his neck. Meaning? Well, I took it as a threat. Bill made sure I understood on the beach the next morning.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have walked away." Hank kissed her on the head.
"You couldn't have known," she assured him.
"Go on. What happened next?" The police officer asked as he wrote her words in his notebook.
"He saw Hank leave for the store and knew I was alone. He simply walked in the back door, grabbed me from behind, and pushed me into the bedroom. He tied me up, and raped me, this time without drugs." Sheila wiped away her tears, and Hank pulled her close.
"It's all right. Everything will be all right. Can you continue?"
Sheila nodded and took a deep breath. "When he finished, he untied me. I pretended to cooperate. Told him it was the best sex I'd ever had. Then I suggested I make us a drink. Instead, I went to the kitchen for the gun that I'd seen Hank hide in the cupboard above the refrigerator. I was only going to use it to get Bill out of the house, but he had other ideas. He said he'd kill me and to prove it he slapped the gun out of my hand and then walloped me hard. I followed the gun to the floor and somehow managed to get hold of it. I didn't hesitate. I just pointed and fired. It was the first time I'd ever held or fired a gun."
She covered her face with her hands. "I had no choice. It was him or me."
"It's all right baby. You did well; it's all going to work out." Hank told her as he held her in his arms. 
The police left them alone after Hank assured them he'd bring Sheila to the station for a formal statement in the morning.
The next day, Sheila was released from the hospital. Hank took her to the police station as promised. She signed the statement but minutes later, she was arrested for murder.

To her horror, the truth of what happened had been recorded. In both the cabin she shared with Hank, and the night she seduced Bill in his home after he invited her in for a drink. It clearly showed there was no rape and that Sheila, not Bill was the aggressor!
However, the biggest surprise happened when Bill walked into the interrogation room. He wasn't dead. It was a setup. Something Hank and his good friend had arranged together.
Sheila looked at Bill then Hank. "Why?"
"Because you killed Lydia!"
"What? No! No!" Sheila's eyes were wide, and a light sweat broke out across her brow.
"Yes, Sheila. You did. I have the proof. Remember when you had tea in the park the day she died?"
"Yes, of course, why?"
"She'd told me that you accused her of having an affair with Carey. She couldn't believe that you could think such a thing of her.
"But I apologized. I was wrong. We made up that day."
"Yes, and she was over the moon. She had called me before she left the parking lot that day. She was ecstatic about your apology. She also said she wasn't feeling well. I asked her what she'd eaten, she told me you given her tea with a new sweetener in it. It hadn't agreed with her. Then she was dead. Soon after, Carey was dead.
Hank had turned away from her but continued. "Carey's mother was certain that you poisoned her son. She was right, wasn't she?"
"Sheila just closed her eyes."
Hank continued. "The engagement ring you found in my room. It's the ring my sister helped Carey choose for you. He told his mother he'd decided to wait before asking you because you didn't grieve for your best friend. Then his mother witnessed that same anger and disbelief when you didn't grieve for her son."
Sheila didn't answer, but her gaze stayed on Hank. Almost as though she wasn't listening to his words and simply couldn't believe that he'd turned on her. In the hospital, he'd been so attentive, apologetic. Loving. This man, she didn't know!
"You killed my sister, your boyfriend, most likely your stepfather, and I'm positive that when the investigation is complete, we'll find several more dead bodies in your count."
"How?" Sheila was dumbfounded.
I've been watching you since the death of my sister, and the grim reaper was your constant companion. I've investigated and worked with the police to find more answers. I had Lydia's body autopsied. You poisoned her! You bitch! Your best friend!"
Hank walked to the corner of the room to calm his anger.
The detective in the room spoke. "Bodies were uninterred, and the truth is quickly becoming known. In fact, several investigators are waiting outside to talk to you. One is from New York. They found your DNA at the scene of a murdered biker in Central Park. There's a detective from Hawaii. Your secrets are coming to light Sheila, you won't be free for a long, long time. If ever!"
Sheila swallowed hard. "But … I thought you loved me." Her statement meant for Hank, seemed to hit him between the shoulder blades like a knife. He faced her on last time.
"You were supposed to, but the truth is. I'm just a better actor than you are. Being with you made me physically sick!"
Sheila didn't even blink.
Hank strode to the door, but before he opened it, he said, "I hope you rot in Hell, my dear."
Hank never looked back.
Bill followed but first said. "Uh, thanks for the great sex! Taught me a few things, yes, you did." He smiled at the memory. "But seriously, I'll ditto what Hank said, although Hell is probably better than you deserve."
Sheila didn't say a word. Not for the rest of that day or the 365 days since. She received several life sentences and one death sentence. She refused all appeals.
Death will be the release from the Hell she created. At least that's what she hopes.

~~THE END~~~

Yolanda Renée © 2016
1160 words

Well, folks, that appears to be the end of our 
favorite serial killer, Sheila.
Or is it?
I'm considering a sequel called Sheila's revenge. :)
I do hope you've enjoyed Sheila's murderous journey!

Read all the excerpts of
Sheila's Murderous Mind
Just click on the title!

Remember folks - this is all fiction -
an exercise of the imagination!

I'd love to hear from you.