It was simply a choice between killing a man, and outraging all the finer sensibilities of my nature.
My Only Murder - Ernest Favenc (1899; published in David Latta's Sand on the Gumshoe)
I knew what it was like to wake up after being drunk the night before - a common enough experience - but that wasn't anything compared with this.
Dream of Death - Cornell Woolrich (1960)
"Get away from here, you dirty swine," she said.
The Ballad of Peckham Rye - Muriel Spark (1960)
In Devon's dream they were searching the reservoir again for Robert.
Beyond This Point Are Monsters - Margaret Millar (1970)
During the summer I worked, in the winter I gambled - and at the end of the year I was a little bit better off than at the beginning.
This Bride is Dangerous - Victor Canning (1960)
On a foggy night in November, Mr Corbett, having guessed the murderer by the third chapter of his detective story, arose in disappointment from his bed and went downstairs in search of something more satisfactory to send him to sleep.
The Book - Margaret Irwin (1930)
The hand caressing her cheek was gentle but disquietingly large - as big as her whole head, it seemed.
The Hundred and Ninety-Nine Steps - Michel Faber (2001)
One day a madman came into my little grandmother's shop at Watford.
The Gentile Jewess - Muriel Spark
Miss Isobel Seton settled her chin into the collar of her sable coat and, as was her custom in moments of stress, mentally composed an abusive letter.
Fire Will Freeze - Margaret Millar (1944)
It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath (1963)
It was deserted, this stretch of beach, except for the girl and an occasional, busy little troop of sandpipers who scurried along the ocean's edge, just not getting their feet wet.
Death of a Stray Cat - Jean Potts (1956)