I was somewhere I had no business being, doing something that I shouldn’t, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Continue reading “Speak No Evil by Hugh Cron – Warning – Adult Content”
Tag: crime fiction
La Vie en Rose by Barbara Diggs
“Where shall we go tonight?” Euan caresses my cheek with the back of his hand then brushes a stray braid away from my face. He is propped on his elbow next to me in the classic post-coital pose. I suppose he thinks he looks suave, but he doesn’t. He just reminds me of a kid trying to pull off a look that’s too big for him.
Violent Lives by Michael Ventimiglia
Stomach is a damn hard taste to forget. Even before the bile claws its way up your throat, you can taste it—hot metal and candy aspirin. Then you can smell it, too. Sharp and noxious, the promise of chewed food and belly acid to come. I hate to even think about it, but memory’s a certain breed of sadist, and it knows what we dread the most.
Literally Reruns – The Sicilian by James Hanna
Leila has rootled down in the archives again and pulled out this from a long time supporter of the site, a multiple contributor. This is what she said.
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Maleware by John McLaughlin
Damaged.
It’s written in the lines of her face. The mottled flesh scrawled across her cheeks, the tangle of scar tissue weighing on her eyelid. Battle scars? A robbery gone wrong? In any case, she’s seen some shit. And the story’s not finished.
The Map Beneath by Michael Grant Smith
Clad only in oil-stained mechanic’s trousers and work boots, Dobrosky attacked the ground outside his single-story apartment. Two, three, four scoops before metal squealed on something hard. This was not in his plan. He dropped the shovel and let it clatter on the sidewalk.
JRW4 by Adam Kluger
Harlan Strundley could sling the bull back in high school like nobody’s business.
Yawp by Jude Atwood
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White Is Best by Hugh Cron. Warning – Strong Adult Content.
I wanted to drink its blood.
Because it never wanted to know me.
But I didn’t bite.
Continue reading “White Is Best by Hugh Cron. Warning – Strong Adult Content.”
Winter Solstice by Jon Beight
I sit in silence amid the scattered, worthless rubble of what were the symbols of your life’s bright flashes and triumphs that you hold so dear. These shattered remains lay in tribute to unbridled, hate-filled rage, spawned from the union of betrayal and deceit.
literally stories 