Showing results by narrator "Daniel Dorse" in All Categories

At the Megachurch Pastor Retreat, there were in attendance five gluttons, six bigots, three jihadists, four crooks, eight adulterers, 13 workaholics, three closet homosexuals, two embittered atheists, nine slanderers (also called gossips or perjurers, depending on the day), three rebels who had yet to intentionally submit to a single authority figure, two junior members who coveted everything else from everyone else in the group (hidden sins included), and one man with an even darker secret. When his secret is exposed, what will the others do to him?

Who in Galactic Central Command gives a rip about some lug nuts and a requisition form? I mean, who really cares that a systems engineer ordered 160 of them? Except those lug nuts changed everything and now he's called before a court marshal under accusation for treason, mutiny, theft, and murder. All because of those 160 lug nuts. What's so important about a bagful of hardware?

I woke to a mass of men writhing and broken, moving as one in their attempt to reach that great circle of light. They looked like ants, but ants without exoskeletons: their soft bits shredding, their hard bits breaking, to make a sort of chicken-leg jello out of humanity. The cries of pain and cries of triumph mixed. But one man keeps saying, "2π28.57mm. 2π28.57mm. 2π28.57mm.” Pointing at the circle of light. Claiming he cut it. Cut what? And why?

Can’t you feel the warm velvety wings of a butterfly opening in your chest as the bourbon slides down your throat? Or maybe you feel the rasp developing in your voice from all those cigarettes. Ever been burnt by a dame, not knowing which end was up when it was all over? The rich history of pulp stories are pure Americana. Written like a script from film noir movie, you are to be transported to a time in the '30s, '40s or '50s, where the liquor flowed freely and there was always a Crosley radio playing in some room off in the distance, just barely audible.

Here is the book that launched journalist-turned-crime-novelist Jerry Oster's meteoric literary career and introduced his most unforgettable character, the sad-sack detective Jake Neuman. When Neuman and his partner, Bobby Redfield, are assigned the murder of a small-time crook to take media pressure off the mayor, it looks a piece of cake for the precinct's two top homicide men. But soon their path through the underworld leads to the upper crusts of the arts and Big Apple society.

Mom and dad wanted him to write the next great American novel, so he had a typewriter gathering dust in a closet. They wanted him to compose a symphony that would get him to Julliard or at least U of I. They wanted him to DJ the local radio and work his way up to NBC or even the Tonight Show as a comedian. They focused on so many routes to his future fortune (which would be theirs as well) and future fame that he ended up rebelling his way into mediocrity. But he could drive a truck, by God. Wasn't that worth giving your life to? Blood and all?

The Ivy City is dying. It flails under a sea of the risen dead, the holy churches broken, the nobles largely destroyed, the population leaderless and alone, the city itself is bleeding and growing cold. Tattered crimson ribbons of blood fill the gutters. A despicable wizard, scion of the noble line, has shoved the Ivy City to the brink of death as he seeks what he sees as his rightful throne. Doomed by his forbidden love, discarded by the crown, forgotten by the people, a disgraced hero rises from the ashes to combat the rising darkness.

When Dick Moonlight PI is instructed by Homicide Detective Nick Miller at the Albany Police Department to investigate the double homicide of a pair of married lawyers up in Saratoga Springs during the thoroughbred racing season, he finds himself in the middle of a killing spree that just might get him and his sidekick, Fat Elvis, killed too.

When an enemy delves into Tanner’s past, they uncover long buried secrets that rock Tanner’s world. The revelations usher in grief, as well as an unexpected joy.

From what we have relearned in recent history about the way magnetism, gravity, centrifugal and centripetal force, as well as the many other forces one giant body exerts upon another, we know the medievalists had it right all along. When the moon gets too close and too bright, it makes us crazy. In that spirit, editor Lancelot Schaubert rounded up sci-fi and fantasy writers Anne Greenwood Brown, Juliet Marillier, LJ Cohen, Anthony G. Cirilla, FC Shultz, and Emily Munro to write about cosmic influence.

Five years after his sister, Katie, was murdered, Father Michael Jerome has moved on with his life, but he has never forgotten that terrible time. And he has never stopped wondering who killed her. And why. When a dying criminal's confession points Michael toward answers to these questions, he embarks on a journey of discovery.

When people need something, Inverness, New Jersey tailor Lincoln Blackthorne is the man they turn to and in turn Linc generally gets them what they want. Sometimes — like every time he turns around — there's somebody else there trying to do Blackthorne out of what he's after...usually threatening bodily harm and more often than not attempting to make good on the threat.

He waits in the shadows, a dark and deadly presence. And with each new killing he becomes less human and more vicious. He stands patiently, a wire garrote in his hands, ready to claim another victim. Soon he will have one more to add to his growing list of victims unless they can stop him. But how can they stop him when they don't know who he is? Or what he is? To a terrified city he was known only as the Wireman.

Someone has abducted television star Kelly Rogers, and the police and the FBI both believe that it was him. Jake Stelton can't really blame them, after all, he's done it before. 10 months earlier, their meteoric love affair ended with Jake taking Kelly hostage and threatening to kill anyone who dared try to separate them. When the chaos of that day ended, there were five innocent people dead, and Jake Stelton was in jail awaiting trial for murder.

When one man's hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him. Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position - that of the brother with no future.

Went to the doctor, complained about my immune system, asked about supplements. He smirked. Asked him if something's funny. He called American supplements ignorant. Said he had something better, just approved. "Nanoimmunity bot". Looked like aspirin. Dumb price, but insurance would pay, so... It engineers new paths toward health, teaches my body to adapt to "health threats".

How can one cave man stack wood, build fire, hunt beast, and clean nail? Especially since they’d lost their water basins on top of...well...on top of every tool for survival she’d gathered over the years. Lost them because he didn’t know how to protect violent, crude tools he didn’t know how to use.

Originally published in The New Haven Review, this story features a young married couple who struggle through the rough landscape of Southern Illinois in the late 1950s. They argue over the purchase of a five-dollar-a-month Sears and Roebuck kitchen table, but it ends up saving lives.

Out of time and place, Wreaker walks into a coffee shop on Long Island. They do not take gold bullion for payment. They do not hand pluck their tea leaves from the tree of life. Their tables can't even support the weight of Öfugr, his sacred ancient weapon. So how will he ever get his coffee?

In Book 2 of the World of Murder series, Detectives O'Roarke and Garcia are chasing a serial killer and time is running out. Strippers have been found with their throats cut and the killer's rage is escalating. To make things worse they have over 100 potential suspects. Is the killer an ex-boyfriend? An Internet stalker? A tattoo artist? Or the neighborhood priest? A cook, a cabbie, or one of the many customers who frequent the strip joints?