The Mysterious Press Anniversary Anthology
Language: English
Pages: 305
ISBN: B01HRLZHB6
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
To commemorate this silver milestone, Mysterious Press presents 18 specially commissioned stories by the finest mystery and suspense writers working today.
filleted,” Ella assured him. “Better be. There’s nothing worse than finding bones when you don’t expect them, eh, Pearl?” “Shut up, you old fool,” Pearl scolded him, half-smiling, and blushing, too. “Relax,” said Wilf. “I wouldn’t embarrass you. We’ve been coming all these years and I’ve never said a word out of turn, have I?” “He’s not used to eating out,” Pearl told Ella. “We have this anniversary meal once a year, and that’s enough for him.” “The anniversary of the day her husband Gus
bedrooms, and not in the new studio at the back of the house. STUART M. KAMINSKY Stuart M. Kaminsky won the Edgar Award for Best Novel for A Cold Red Sunrise. He writes four quite different and successful mystery series: the Toby Peters historical private eye novels, the Abe Lieberman detective series, the Lew Fonesca mysteries, and the Porfiry Rostnikov police novels. He also authored two original Rockford Files novels. He has written forty published novels, thirty-five published short
a thousand a minute.” “More than a thousand a minute,” Pryor echoed. “Celebration,” said Beemer. “This is a celebration. Back where our good luck started.” “Back light went out,” Pryor said, looking at the jewelry store. “We’re moving,” Beemer answered, getting quickly out of the car. They moved right toward the door. Beemer had a Glock. His treasure. Read about it in a spy story in a magazine. Had to have it. Pryor had a piece-of-crap street gun with tape on the handle. Revolver. Six or
he was holding it — or I could have tried. But the risks of tussling over a loaded weapon in such tight quarters were looking far worse than just maintaining the status quo. I’d spent my entire adult life dealing with people like Roger Blake, many of them innocents, guilty or not. True victims of circumstance, they tended to live their lives by reaction alone, either making or avoiding decisions without thought of consequence. I didn’t know what he had or hadn’t done — I was pretty sure he was at
the store, shaking his head. After that visit Coleman didn’t see the two college boys for weeks — weeks he spent in a musty corner of the back storeroom secretly attempting to draw once again. The first few days he drew nothing but lines. Lines by the hundreds until they were bold, even-textured, and absolutely straight. Then came lines that intersected, followed by triangles, rectangles, and finally perfectly proportioned squares. He mastered circles and ellipses in a matter of days. Next came