N/A

This is a longer piece and I only have a minute to critique ( my apologies! )

“The regularity in which crime is committed, especially murder, is sad really,” my husband stated over breakfast that morning, “But it is the thing that buys us our bread, now it would be nice if you could at least get used to the cases I’m confronted with. Anyway, it would be nice to have you around while I work.” I was trying to eat my eggs, but how could I with my husband, Alex, ranting on AGAIN on how I should get used to his profession."

I would use italics instead of capitals, other then that, this is perfect to me!


Alex Diebon was 32, I was 29; now my husband wasn’t an official detective, but he frequently got himself involved in police business, much to their annoyance. His brain processed the clues and then he’ll jump on an idea without second thought, and then he’s always right. That only makes the police even more irritated then they are already, so he’s not very popular at the station right now. He helps for reasonable fees, which they always give because of the help he provides.

I think that it is nearly a rule to write numbers as they are written, thirty-two and twenty-nine.
This information seems a little rushed.

“How am I supposed to eat when you start yammering on about dead people and their bodies? Alex, you know I’m squeamish about these things.” I got up with grumblings and fed the eggs to the bulldog, Meezer. “But Martha dear,” he got behind me and wrapped his arms around my neck affectionately, “It just would be nice to have you by my side while I work, it gets cold when I see the dead and it would be nice for you to be there to warm my heart.” I sighed, he knew I loved romantic things like that. “You’re such a romantic, why now? Like you could have said that yesterday or something. But Fine, I’ll do it once. Just once.”

You do dialouge very well, but you should break up who is speaking with a new paragraph. Every one should get there own fresh line. It gets confusing otherwise.

Later that day around 6:00 pm, Alex stumbled upon a murder announcement in the newspaper; I had hoped he wouldn’t for awhile. “Martha, look at this.” He pointed to the column, it was a short column, and the title was interesting. ~Murderer of my heart~. The was a sketch of a sleeping woman with what appeared to be a large heart drawn on her chest, like the ones six year olds draw on valentine cards. “Listen to this Martha,” he read:

I wouldn't change this.

“‘Yesterday, November 14 10:02pm. An officer had a tip that something was going on in the closed Bart’s Fav Flavor Ice cream store in North California, Sunn St. He found 21 year old Cathy Morster dead in a freezer. The woman was dressed in evening gown and had been frozen to death. After death a heart was shaped by a knife on her chest. Authorities have not confirmed who the murderer is, but 53 year old, John McNile, owner of the freezer and shop, is being held in custody as the prime suspect.’.”

Letters and articles should either be centered in a narrower column or put in italics so they don't clutter things.



Good work. I'll try to do more later.
Very catching piece!!!

-shadowbox

Ok, I thought it was good. It happened awfully fast though. Maybe spread it out a bit?
But I liked it overall.
Now onto grammar mistakes.

“How am I supposed to eat when you start yammering on about dead people and their bodies? Alex, you know I’m squeamish about these things.” I got up with grumblings and fed the eggs to the bulldog, Meezer. “But Martha dear,” he got behind me and wrapped his arms around my neck affectionately, “It just would be nice to have you by my side while I work, it gets cold when I see the dead and it would be nice for you to be there to warm my heart.” I sighed, he knew I loved romantic things like that. “You’re such a romantic, why now? Like you could have said that yesterday or something. But Fine, I’ll do it once. Just once.”

When we reached the man, he was sitting on the ground with his knee’s tucked under his chin, he would not be moved for anything.