Seatown train station was certainly a lot better looking than I remembered it but it still smelled of puke. And shit, And sweat. Well, it did now that Smiffy was there. He’d spruced himself up a bit, slicked back his hair, put on a double-breasted pinstripe suit. But his rancid stench still oozed out. I hadn’t really seemed to notice it when we were boozing together in The Cobble Bar but out here in the fresh air it seemed overpowering. Continue reading TRAIN IN VAIN By Paul D. Brazill
Almost three o’clock in the morning and his eyes are still open. The ceiling fan churns the silver light that slashes through the dark room, the moon fat and leaking through the blinds across the bed. He wishes he could wipe his nose with the back of his hand as burning eyes lock onto the face of his wife – angelic, serene, beautiful – and completely unaware. Continue reading THROWAWAY by KEVIN BERG
He depressed his index finger on the Enter key.
What appeared on the screen was a grainy shot that came from a security camera mounted to the building’s far corner, and not particularly close to the John Patrick Boutique storefront which was located pretty much in the center of the strip mall. There were people coming and going from the Italian restaurant which was situated closer to the camera, and one or two people going into the liquor store and another couple heading in and out of the bagel shop. No one, on the other hand, seemed to be heading into or out of the boutique. Continue reading Dressed to Kill: Part II By Vincent Zandri
It never failed to amaze me how effortlessly Blood could pump out a dozen chest presses with no less than three 45-pound plates set on each end of the bar. Adding in the weight of the bar, that made a total of three hundred fifteen pounds.
Blood already bore a body that looked like it had been sculpted from the richest dark marble ever to be found on the planet, so his workouts were only about maintenance. Unlike me who was always trying to improve my strength and size because after all, I wasn’t getting any younger and it seemed like these days, someone was always trying to punch me. Continue reading Dressed to Kill – A Jack Marconi PI Short Shot – by Vincent Zandri (Part 1)
Gavin tilted his head and puffed a stream of smoke out of the cracked window of his old F150. The window was rolled up enough to block out the rain that piddled and thumped on the roof but wide enough to keep the truck from filling with smoke. With drips soaking his jeans and the smoke slowly choking the air it seemed neither objective was being met.
Continue reading CANDY MAN by Frank Quinn
“Sirens howl like wolves in the distance, screams haunt your dreams…”
Listen to the complete first playlist of PMM Dictator’s online Neo-Noir fiction series.
Jude Mortimer is an ex war-correspondent haunted by his past and caught in a murderous game.
Everyone has their talents. My parents and teachers spent decades labouring over finding my quirks and talents, like they were mining for some valuable metal. They were disappointed when I flunked all my classes, out of disenchantment more than anything else. My poor mother and father enrolled me into every after school class imaginable, all coming up empty. Continue reading Born This Way by Jen Hughes
I sit motionless in the closet upstairs and wait for the door to open. Adrenaline slams my heart against my ribcage in anticipation, beads of sweat roll through the dips and valleys of scars and age on my forehead to sting my eyes. I blink away the excitement and breathe deeply, it shouldn’t be long. Continue reading PAYDAY by KEVIN BERG
“Did you know that a human bite is actually worse than a dog bite?”
I try to avoid making eye contact with Larry-Lee Lomax, but Slattery’s Meat Market is deserted, and the pornographic pictures that have been glued to the bare brick walls are now faded beyond recognition. When I turn back to face him, I notice that there are dried specks of blood around his hideously cracked lips. Larry-Lee looks more dead than alive. He has ash-grey skin. It matches what is left of his hair. Continue reading EVIL HEAT by Tom Leins
I peer round the side of the wheelie bin. Blue lights flash ominously in the distance. We’ve run, but not far enough. “Nope. Fuzz are still hanging around.” Continue reading Troubled Waters by Tess Makovesky