The Best American Mystery Stories 2011
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The Best American Series®
First, Best, and Best-Selling
The Best American series is the premier annual showcase for the country’s finest short fiction and nonfiction. Each volume’s series editor selects notable works from hundreds of magazines, journals, and websites. A special guest editor, a leading writer in the field, then chooses the best twenty or so pieces to publish. This unique system has made the Best American series the most respected—and most popular—of its kind.
Lawrence Block, Brendan DuBois, Loren D. Estleman,
Beth Ann Fennelly and Tom Franklin, Ed Gorman, Richard Lange, S. J. Rozan,
Mickey Spillane and Max Allan Collins, and others
place we saw her was Les's, the evening she disappeared. Les's was overflowing with the usual afterschool crew. Carol was sit ting with some of the other cheerleaders, planning a bonfire and pep rally for Friday night. We had a big game Saturday against Cranberry. "Hey," Carol yelled over to us. The music was too loud for talking. Everybody yelled. "Do you guys know where we can get any wood?" "I know where you can get some," Wonderling said, snickering. "I don't know," Nosker said. "I haven't
Examiner noted that "Gorman has a wonderful writing style that allows him to say things of substance in an entertaining way." Presently he writes the Dev Conrad series, dark political thrillers, and the Sam McCain books, which have followed the life of a young attorney from the late fifties up into the seventies. ▪ "Flying Solo" is the result of sitting in chemo rooms for the past nine years dealing with my multiple myeloma, an incurable but treatable cancer. You buy as much time as you can.
never been hit so hard. "Where the fuck is Ted?" Will Wilson was screaming. I was talking, I thought, saying, "I don't know," but I couldn't hear my voice. Couldn't feel my mouth or lips. "How do we get out?" Coe was yelling. Will Wilson hit me again and it was white and black and gone and there was a smell then, I remember now, a smell of air and water and rain against my face. But in a moment I could see again and the smoke was in the room. The fire in the hall. Will Wilson was gone. "He
pulled him out of his puke I held my breath. "We don't want to drag him. They'll look at his boots. Stand him upright and we'll sort of escort him to the steps." "I just hope he doesn't start puking again." "I saw a black perp puke like this once. I wish I had it on tape." "Yeah, be fun for the grandkids to watch at Christmastime." "I like that, Tom. Smart-ass remarks in the course of committing murder one. Shows you're getting a lot tougher." We took our time. He didn't puke again, but
me back to my parents?" She climbed onto her knees in the seat, one hand on the dashboard, the other on the headrest, and put her face close to Gerald's, yelling at him. "They rewarding you or something? Are you some sort of bounty hunter?" "I only found out today," Gerald said. He stopped at a stop sign and looked at her. "I just found out." "I don't want to go back. I told you they were mean to me." "I know." "They were awful! They never let me do anything. They wouldn't let me see my