Copped It @ A Twist of Noir

My little tale of a heist gone wrong is over at the brand-spanking-new A Twist of Noir. We’re all glad to see ATON back sharing stories — and surprise, I’m following on the heels of Mr B, who’s got a fine little black diamond, ‘Things I Used to Like’ (and he gets to be #007, too). You won’t be surprised to find ‘Copped It’ is another title stolen from The Fall. I can’t help being inspired: originality is overrated anyway 😉 besides, you might catch a few other references in the tale.

Thanks, Chris!

Out Now: You Left Your Biscuit Behind

OUT NOW!

As Aunty Fox says:

Our first crime themed anthology featuring crime, fantasy, horror, humour and baked goods. It’s basically just like one of our events.

10 stories, by ten authors, all with a crime at their heart, some of them with biscuits. Whether that is the stories or the authors I leave to you.

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Contents
Elf Prefix by Graham Wynd
Between Love and Hat by Jay Eales
Ghost Signals by James Bennett
No Mercy by K.D. Kinchen
That’s the Way the Cookie Crumbles by Penny Jones
Feeding the Fish by Carol Borden
Mermaids in Cape Town by Mame Diene
Patron by E.J. Davies
The Price of a Biscuit by Kate Coe
The Princess, The Pekingese and the Ivory Box by R.A. Kennedy

Buy You Left Your Biscuit Behind / Amazon.com

Coming Soon: You Left Your Biscuit Behind

New crime coming atcha soon: from Fox Spirit Books it’s You Left Your Biscuit Behind. Here’s a teaser from my noir story with a twist, “Elf Prefix”:

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Yes, of course that title’s a nod to a Fall song. Did you expect any less?

Song for a Saturday: Nekje v Sloveniji – Res Nullius

Somewhere in Slovenia: yes, another song that inspired a story even if I don’t know the lyrics.

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Story for a Sunday: 30 Versions of ‘Warm Leatherette’

The world feels rather Ballardian of late, so here’s an appropriate tale:

30 Versions of Warm Leatherette at Pulp Metal Magazine.

Coming: Pulpcore

Brush up your Deutsche sprach with some of the premiere names in horror und crime. Coming soon from Pulpcore, die anthologie wird sein kostenlos! Drop by Facebook to give them a like, schnell.

Includes my Fall-inspired story ‘Nenn’ mich nicht Liebling’ AKA ‘Don’t Call Me Darling’ from Cerebral Caustic. Not sure if the stories will be in both languages. I shall investigate.

Out Now: Don’t Call Me Darling #freeread

Graham Wynd 400Over at Near 2 the Knuckle, my tale of family woes and hard-boiled crime “Don’t Call Me Darling” is up:

Luke was breaking fingers for the boss when we got the call. I was mostly watching him because that was his job and talking was my job and the talk had already been done.

‘I’ll get you the money,’ Mr Irving screamed.

‘When?’

‘Thursday!’

I looked over at Luke, a bullet-headed son of a gun that had seen too many Statham films and fancied himself an action star. Never mind Hollywood was a long way off, his shaved head was not sexy and he had the body of an indolent potato. He figured someone would discover his masculine pulchritude sooner or later. ‘Thursday good for you?’

Luke grunted. That was poetry from him.

‘I think the boss might find that acceptable.’ I dug the vibrating phone out of my pocket and answered. ‘Hey boss, he says—’

The boss cut me off. ‘Fiona’s on her way.’

‘The hell you say?’ I wasn’t one to doubt the boss, but I couldn’t quite take in the truth of the words all at once. You might as well have said Elvis was in town. If Elvis were back and gunning for the boss and anyone who stood in the way.

‘Yeah, it’s her—hell on wheels. I want a welcoming committee, chop chop.’

To say the boss was stingy with words would not have been an understatement, but few words were needed at a time like this. I put the phone back in my pocket. ‘Let’s go.’

Luke looked all disappointed like a kid who’d been promised a puppy for Christmas, then got a bunch of underwear and socks. That and he just liked breaking things. I think it was the sound. He was a bit of a connoisseur. Whether he preferred the snap of the bones or the shrieks of the business associates, it would be hard to say. He gave me the big cartoon sad eyes and opened his mouth to complain.

I knew what would stop him. ‘Fiona’s coming.’

He was all business after that, dropping Mr Irving to the floor where the man moaned and cried, then slipping his discarded jacket back onto his own gorilla shoulders. For the umpteenth time I wondered where they hell Luke bought his suits, but as usual it wasn’t the time to ask. ‘Let’s go.’
But turns out we were too late….

Read the rest at Near 2 the Knuckle!

Read the German version over at Pulpcore!