“Eight O’Clock Sharp” by James McCrone

FICTION: “What had been a general resentment of the halfway house and its rules was now a searing hatred….:

“Swamp Witch Blues” by Jason M. Tucker

FICTION: “Heavy, mud-scented air wafted in from the swamp and was warm enough to build up a sweat just sitting. It made everything a bit more miserable.”

“Leaving Rock Bottom” by Robb T. White

FICTION: “If there was a bottom beneath where I stood in that March wind, I didn’t want to know it.”

“Tenderloin” by Steve Carr

FICTION: “I still wear my dog tags. They remind me of who I am, or was…. No one can see the damage but me.”

“Making Amends” by Julian Grant

FICTION: “And then nothing…. I explained to them the importance of making amends, the value of a rigorous moral inventory and doing the right thing….”

“Boilermaker” by Susan Hammerman

FICTION: “Delores didn’t want to think about what she was. Her job was done now, anyway….”

“See No Evil” by Peter DiChellis

I told the cops the truth. I didn’t see anything. But yes, the murder happened right in front of me. And yes, the killer grabbed me and pushed me out of the way to leave. But like I said, I didn’t see a thing. Nothing at all. And then my hard, angry voice screamed the […]

“A Question of Execution” by Basil Rosa

I’d heard Tiny Aria say a million times that in Fortuna, if you scratched beneath the surface, you’d only find more surface. He laid this on me again when he phoned about the Reno Morelli kidnapping. Reno managed The Gutterball, a dive where mooks, con-men, and low-level operatives met to figure out which cops weren’t […]

“Coffin Dress Girl” by Heather Santo

“I’m looking for someone,” I said. “A girl.” “Aren’t we all?” replied the punk. He took a drag from the cigarette stub pinched between his thumb and index finger, then exhaled dramatically. I watched as the large plume of smoke rose, flashing alternating colors in the club’s strobe lights. Red, blue, green, yellow and back […]

“The Coming Storm” by D. V. Bennett

Pulling up carefully on the latch handle, Jack Winslow stepped out of his Chevy Impala onto the lonely tree-lined street. The intense rain and wind would cover most sounds, but he was careful not to allow the low-register thump of his car door to cut through the din. Repossessing a motorcycle in the middle of […]