The silver ship made its way over the desolate desert, landing between two small sandy hills. The ship’s occupants were not explorers from another planet. They were not innocent little green men with big heads and their ship didn’t blu...

Deacon Sender loved his Doberman Pinscher Rooter. As a private investigator he found Rooter to be quite useful in catching bad guys including Emerson Paisley, the monster who enjoyed stealing expensive cars and killing young gay men. Throughou...

After a strained divorce, Willy Stilt found himself living in a homeless shelter living with strangers of questionable morals. After a touch of luck the young man found himself working at a newspaper office in Classifieds. Soon he was promoted to...

The river poured itself into another as I sat on my raggedy porch chair and watched the sun creep its way into shadows. This is my third porch chair in as many years. I call it a porch, but really it’s just a salvaged piece of 5/8 inch plyw...

The citizens of this world have many reasons to believe that the planet upon which they live will someday self-destruct, but what if their reasons are wrong. What if global warming doesn't destroy us? What if a worldwide war for fossil fuels doesn...

Jared Conlin lived a “normal” life. He had a job, a small apartment, friends, and a dead fiancé that wouldn’t leave him alone. Blaming him for her accidental death, she haunted him day and night. The young employee of a local t...

For years I received a pay check because I was good at watching people, reading people. I enjoyed it because there are so many stories to be told on each face, each nervous tic, and each gesture. Watching is an animal instinct I believe. Watchi...

"A Vinyl Night and Other Miseries" is Stan's first self-published book of Poetry. He has written several fiction books including sci-fi, mystery, fantasy, and suspense genres. His real love though has always been poetry. This book took forty ye...

“Dark” is filled with, what else, darkness. Exposing all of the acne on life’s face is sometimes difficult but necessary in my mind to give honesty to writing. This is especially true in writing poetry. For me, poetry is nonfictio...

Writing such words began in the seventies, but always with the same result, wadded paper for trash men to haul away on Mondays. “Train Ride Home” is a title. Enough said about that. . Beginning this long trip through life started at t...