We are delighted to report that “The Little Outlaw” by Mike Miner has been selected as a finalist in the 2014 Derringer Awards for short mystery fiction.
Congratulations, Mike! You are in great company, and we wish all the finalists great success.… Read the rest
It’s magical when kids help out around the house.
There was a dead mouse in Mum’s bedroom.
Simon gently pushed the door open and crept in. He smelled his mother’s perfume, almost overwhelmed by the odour of sweat and cigarettes and sour alcohol. A ray of morning sunlight shone through the curtains like a spotlight, illuminating a snoring shape under the covers. Simon was always surprised by how small Matt looked when he wasn’t shouting. His feet didn’t even reach the end of the bed, but fell short by—well, a foot.
Navigating the minefield of socks and cigarette papers and empty glasses, Simon stole round the bed to the other side.… Read the rest
Listen to this story on the podcast.
True love is hard to find.
The stroll from sidewalk to shoreline was longer than ever, formidable on a given day, crossing the rare beach in Jersey getting wider every year, erosion from the north dumping more white powder to the south and pushing water’s edge further into the Atlantic. But his trek was languorous, lilting, a relief after what he’d left by the street, in the motel shadows.
He’d been sprayed back on the pavement–must have been the beer, right?, nothing more–warm, salty, like the water here in dead summer, but tinged with a whiff of metal, like chewing a penny, got the nose twitching.… Read the rest
Things have a funny way of working out – for some people, anyway.
Elliot didn’t know what had made him stop in at the pawnbroker’s on his way home from work that Tuesday evening. Perhaps simply the fact that it was so close to his apartment, just across the street behind his building. He certainly hadn’t anticipated buying Olivia’s engagement ring from a pawnbroker, but once the fellow in the shop had shown him the ring he simply had to have it.
Olivia wouldn’t care where the ring came from. She loved him, and he wasn’t from a rich family. He rearranged his accounts and on Saturday stepped out into the sweltering summer morning with a bank cheque for twenty thousand dollars in his wallet.… Read the rest
“For the sins of your fathers you, though guiltless, must suffer.” — Horace
I dug the book I was reading out from under a stack of college paperwork that sat on my desk. After a week of celebrating my high school graduation I just didn’t have the drive to dig in to all of that yet.
Just before lunch, I heard the doorbell ring. I walked to the top of the stairs to see who it was. My mother opened the door to see a man in a very nice suit, his black hair cropped close, almost military. He raised a pistol and shot her.… Read the rest
iTunes
RSS