Author in the Hot Seat: James Oswald

January 14, 2017
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Author in the Hot Seat: James Oswald

If you don’t know who James Oswald is, where have you been? As well as writing a bestselling crime fiction series, James runs a 350 acre livestock farm, raising Highland cattle and New Zealand Romney sheep. He’s also been immortalized on late night TV by appearing on the Craig Ferguson Show. His latest Inspector McLean...

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FICTION: Mrs. Hamilton by Frank Byrns

January 8, 2017
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“So let me just cut the bullshit and get right to the reason I called – how you set for work these days?” “You know me, Al – I’m always working, but I could always use some more.” “That’s what I was hoping to hear. You got some time to come on down here...

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FICTION: Merry Xmas from Orchard Beach by Richie Narvaez

December 14, 2016
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One-handing her smartphone and one-handing the wheel of her SUV, Heather O’Grady simultaneously tapped Tito’s number and U-turned to park in front of his crappy house on Crosby Avenue. “Merry Christmas, stickball captain,” she yelled into the phone. “What time is it?” Tito said, yawning. “Time to wake the hell up.” He mumbled that...

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FICTION: Conversations with Mister Abaddon by Teel James Glenn

December 1, 2016
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Braxton chose a rainy moonless night to bury his wife near the lawn jockey statue. It had to be a moonless night because the statue beside the bench was visible from the road and half a dozen of the nearby houses. But that was exactly why he chose the spot to inter the woman...

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Western Wednesday: Interview with David James Keaton

November 30, 2016
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Western Wednesday: Interview with David James Keaton

David James Keaton has one of the most active imaginations out there (Stephen Graham Jones might have a slight lead, but it is close). Pig Iron is his take on the western. It is part deconstruction, part weird western, part dark comedy, and all DJK. It really does resist comparisons to other westerns and...

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FICTION: Stalker by Elizabeth Zelvin

November 18, 2016
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The first I knew about it was when Harry Arkus stopped me in the hall. “Hey, Bess! Guess who has a crush on you? Alvin Oily.” “That’s disgusting.” “No, it’s funny. He cornered me after math class and started babbling about how beautiful you are. I still have grease marks on my shirt sleeve.”...

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