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 … 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 … 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 … Continue reading Dressed to Kill: Part II By Vincent Zandri
1 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 … 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 … Continue reading CANDY MAN by Frank Quinn
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.
“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, … 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.”
Jeanne Duval tried to stop herself from scratching her arm, a thing she did compulsively whenever she was nervous and there was no way to pace. Sometimes she scratched so much she drew blood, which at least would be appropriate today. Jeanne looked at her collage of photos covering the gallery wall.
1. I’m sitting at my desk having a drink and cleaning my gun in the second floor office loft when I hear the footsteps running, not walking, up the wood stairs.