Short Stories

The Color-Blind Detective Blue Murder – Oct 2000

Jane Wye’s husband is dead, and she wants the $20 million he squirrelled away before the girlfriend gets her hands on it. Be careful what you wish for.

Color Me Dead – judas ezine – Oct 2000

I knew Marion from her previous life, long before the cancer started eating away her insides. She was a beautiful girl, with a handsome body and a winsome personality. We shared a single thing, a common trait, a bond of separateness, we were both color-blind, the rare kind, total. When we parted, she said it was the only thing we shared, but later, when we were a thing of the past, she told me our problems were her fault. She was the best year of  my life; I sometimes think I was the worst year of hers; but that’s a story too long for the telling.

UPS Green – Mysterical-e – Feb 2001 & Writer’s Hood – Oct 2003

“Gotta be the same guy. Like I said, same little girl, and the packages I deliver are from the same company, the one he works for, Biorad Research. He’s a salesman. I’m the only person who would have noticed.”

Left on the Cutting Room Floor Judas Ezine – July 2001

A memory of Lola forms complete like the past was yesterday; we dated for a month, forever ago. Lola earned a shrine-like niche in my psyche as the most truly deep-down good person I’ve ever met; sure, maybe if we’d had the time to scrape off the masks, who knows, but that’s the shrine-ness of it, like unrequited love; untested, unblemished.

Mistakes Were Made – Blue Murder – July 2001

Who’d think a mix-up of garbage cans would end in murder?

Dead Friends of the Library Orchard Press Mysteries – Sept 2001

“You know people through their books, what they read, what they save, what they read over and over. Jeff Jacobs read good books.” She points to the boxes by the door. “I’m going to take them home, read them. Maybe I can find the man within.”

Dead in the Dark – HandHeldCrime – Aug 2002

She’d lost her way; lots of kids do; usually they make it home; usually.

Death … and More Death – Thrilling Detective – Oct 2001

There’s never any warning before the dark side smacks me upside the head. No “Sharp Knife” or “Gun Ahead” signs; no death congestion reports. Maybe the quiet summer should have been warning enough. Maybe I don’t take a vacation again.

No Gray in the IRA– Mysterical-e – Nov 2001

Terrorism? No. Politics? No. Love? No. Sex? Maybe.

Death in Third Person 3rd Degree – Jan 2003

My friends think I live in a featureless world of black and white and gray, dark and uninteresting; mostly they are wrong because they think too much of color. And less is simpler; I am a man who doesn’t complicate things. That said, even in my world there are things so complicated they make my head hurt; Bob Bobbins is one of those, though to him his life couldn’t be simpler.

Case Closed, Sort Of – 3rd Degree – April 2003

Bob, he never fooled anybody. Ten years ago he went to prison for killing Mona. They found him with the body, the gun, and no idea of where or who he was. It was the start of the Alzheimer’s that eventually freed him, sort of.

A Budgeted Life – Futures FMAM DIME Anthology – 2004

I’d known Josh Ehrens for twenty years. In many ways he was a throwback to a more mature time; but mature is the wrong word, maybe more measured. Josh appeared to be from a harder era when men hoarded their dollars, conserved their feelings, and measured their words. Where Josh might say he never wasted his feelings, others would say he never gave them the light of day because he didn’t have them.

Rockwell’s Gangster

 Gats Griscomb died in a flurry of bullets in the thirties; one might have thought the gangster was done killing; think again.

Publish or Die

I find the website for her lesbian heroine with repressed urges for men, and a myriad of maladies from AIDS to breast cancer (the woman wore the six ribbons on her hat); and on her short story list, First, We Kill All the Editors.


It was a recipe for murder, but the killer got the ingredients wrong. Men and women are not the same; viva la difference.

One Man’s Junk

To tell the truth though, I felt the worst about Jack, that his wife had enough hate to kill him for her ‘thirty pieces of silver’. There wasn’t any justice in that.

The Art of Giving

Stealing from the dead is never a good thing.

*** Beyond CB Green ***

The Girl Who Stole Time [A Fantasy] Grit Mag

Diane Howard has a watch that stops time; she thinks it is free; she is wrong!

Puzzled to Death

Sometimes the clues are invisible unless the solver has a special talent; Jack White’s vision picks the rat-poop out of the pepper of life.

Bob’s Not Here

Mona wanted to extract an ounce of pain for her father’s pound of abuse.

Dead Again

On 9-11 not everyone who died died, and not everyone who lived deserved to live; but in the end justice is served.

Dying to Remember

Sometimes justice outwits the criminal and Alzheimer’s.

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