"version.X" by Daniel Ksenych (Short Story)

Genre:  Slipstream Science Fiction

Type of Short Story:  Short Story

Summary:  The life story of Max Cube, avatar of 21st Century consciousness and/or seriously mentally ill person.

Excerpt:  

The story of a boy, glossy headshot perfect and clean and lit, precise like a clone, rendered mythical. He's the memories you wish you had, to have known him or to have been him, but it's somehow too late. Max is a Tarot card. He's been told all the stories about boys, the fatherless boys, the prodigies, the first loves. So he can't get out easy. He'll have to pull off something. Young Max, like a home movie or a documentary. It looks like there's nectar beading in the corners of his eyes, on his forehead, when he's older, the way he looks you can see backwards and forwards in his time. It's sweat in candlelight. He looks too perfect, people have to back away. The stories of boys come to save the world. The way children point out and forgive and erase flaws.
Read the entire story on the author's website.

"Surge Protector" by Erica Conroy (Short Story)

Genre:  Science Fiction

Type of Short Story:  Short Story

Summary:  A near future short fiction about two officers of the law who partner up to tackle crime. Will this, however, keep them apart off duty?

Excerpt:

I can remember the first day I met the Kid, as if it were this morning. Consider that an amazing feat for me. I was hungover that day. Sunglasses inside hungover.

"Who're you?" I demanded of the kid waiting by my desk. I had to squint to make out his features. Clean cut and blond. Fresh meat on the Police Force. He gave me his name, his voice more crisp than my dorito breakfast. I immediately forgot it, of course.

"Okay, Kid. Looks like we're stuck with each other," I told him. My new partner wisely kept his trap shut, though his lips did twitch when I pulled out my flask and took a nip. Burping didn't faze him either. This one might last.

The Kid turned out to be by the book. The Chief probably thought he'd dilute my bad ways. I suppose he did, in a way. We were opposites. He was water straight from the source and I was a bourbon served neat. Some say those work well together and I suppose we did too. I introduced the Kid to trouble and he kept me from causing too much of it. But he never should have gotten between me and that bullet.

Buy this story on Amazon.

"Lightning Draw" by Annie Turner (Novelette)

Genre:  Western

Type of Short Story:  Novelette

Summary:  Book 3 of the Zachary Davis Series

 

The demands of being a Texas Ranger have taken their toll on Zach Davis. Worried he might be losing his edge, he works on tracking down a dangerous gunman in an effort to prove he still has what it takes.

Excerpt:

Zach lurched awake with a start. He glanced down and saw that he held his pistol in his hand, cocked and ready for action. He had grabbed the weapon from the dead of sleep as naturally as he would take a breath. His instinctual reaction had managed to save his life on numerous occasions.

The deep purple of dawn was only now starting to reveal itself. Zach glanced to the left and right in tense, alert movements, trying to discern what it was that had startled him.

His brown stallion was grazing about ten yards away. Zach trusted the horse more than most people. The animal normally had flawless instincts when it came to detecting danger. And yet… the horse seemed unperturbed.

A bad dream?

It made sense to Zach that he had woken up from nightmares. His mind had been unsettled for weeks now.

No… it wasn’t a dream. Something’s wrong…

It wasn’t a sound he heard; else the horse would have his ears pricked. It was more a gut feeling, a sense of lurking danger.

 

Buy this story on Amazon.

"Wanderlust Creek and Other Stories" by Elisabeth Grace Foley (Short Stories)

Genre:  Western

Type of Short Story:  Short Story Collection

Summary:  From the author of The Ranch Next Door and Other Stories come six more short stories exploring the joys, heartaches and laughter of life against the backdrop of the Old West. In “Single-Handed,” a gunfighter’s courage comes in doubt when he refuses to explain to his friends the real reason he backed down from a fight. The capable proprietress of the busiest eating-house in town handles a day of disasters large and small in the light-hearted “The Rush at Mattie Arnold’s,” while in “Room Service,” a hotel night clerk finds himself in on odd position after he allows an exhausted traveler to stay in a reserved room. And in the title story, the novella-length “Wanderlust Creek,” a young rancher and his wife struggle to hold onto their land and their dreams in the face of adversity from weather, enemies—and even doubts of each other.

Excerpt:

(from “Wanderlust Creek”)

He reached up toward the reins with his other hand and his hard fingers closed round her wrist. Gloria had not expected it and could not use her quirt, which had slipped down and tangled around her other wrist. The bay horse slewed around sideways in displeasure at the pull on its mouth, but she could not twist her hand free. “Don’t touch me!” she said, a little breathless, hoping her anger concealed a sudden touch of panic.

The younger man put in, though doubtfully, “Hey, do you think—”

A rifle shot cracked and a bullet kicked up the sod a foot behind the other man’s riderless horse. All three horses shied violently; the man on the ground lost his hold on Gloria’s wrist and stumbled as the bay pulled away, and swore as he turned round angrily to look for the source of the shot. Relief leaped through Gloria as she steadied her spooked horse. Ray!

Ray Collins emerged on foot from the brush bordering the meadow, a little to the rear of the scene and closer than any of them had realized, a Winchester in the crook of his arm. In a few purposeful strides he crossed the intervening space and joined them, coming up alongside Gloria’s horse. He looked up at her, catching her eye for a second to see if she was all right, and then he spoke sharply to the men. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“I been getting that question a lot lately,” said the man on foot, his face still dark with anger. “You crazy, shooting at us like that? What business you got doing it?”

“You’ve got no business at all trespassing on my land, or laying your hands on my wife,” said Ray. “Get out of here before I put another shot a lot closer to you.”

Here the younger rider, whose face at sight of Ray had registered first surprised recognition and then slight guilt, cut in. “Hey—Ray—”

Ray glanced at him, his own recognition failing to make any impression on his restrained anger. Chris Borden tried to smile uncomfortably. “Gosh, Ray, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said. “I’m sorry about all this. I—I didn’t know she was your wife—”

“And if she’d been somebody else’s wife, it wouldn’t have mattered?” said Ray cuttingly. “Thanks a lot.”

His glance took in both of them. “You’d better ride out—now.”

With little else they could do, the two men complied. The one on foot gave Ray an ugly look, and glanced once more at Gloria before turning to his horse. “You’ll be sorry if you ever try something like that on me again,” he said to Ray, and then turned away.

As the men rode away across the meadow, Gloria turned her horse back in the direction from which she had come, towards home, and Ray fell in to walk beside her. His own horse waited in the brush from which he had fired. Gloria looked down sideways at him. She had learned to know his moods well enough in a year of marriage to tell that he was still simmering with anger, though outwardly contained. He ejected the spent shell from the Winchester and slung the gun under his other arm. The rifle shot had shaken Gloria a little, though she could not say it was a surprise. Ray’s patience had been short lately, for a number of good reasons.

He looked up at her again after a few minutes, and the expression in his eyes had nearly returned to normal. “Are you all right?” he said.

Gloria nodded. “I—I think they may have cut our fence.”
Buy this collection on Amazon or Kobo.

“The Family Business” by Marina Finlayson (Short Story)

Genre: Humorous Fantasy

Type of Short Story:  Short Story

Summary:  Renardo and his brothers are up to their eyeballs in debt, with one last chance to save their merchant business (and their gonads) from the moneylender. The great city of Tebos is holding its Festival of Song in three days’ time, and they have a wagonload of songbirds to sell.

There’s just one large, man-eating problem: the bored sphinx who guards the city’s gates, and her deadly riddle game. Renardo doesn’t even want to be a merchant, but somehow it falls to him to outwit the sphinx. No pressure. All he has to do is come up with an unanswerable riddle.


Excerpt:

“I’m not asking riddles any more,” said the sphinx.

“Really?” The merchant raised his face from the dirt hopefully.

“Really.” The sphinx shifted her wings, which jiggled her bare breasts in a most interesting fashion. She saw the merchant’s gaze drift and frowned. “You shall ask them instead.”

The merchant’s eyes shot back to her face, alarmed. “Me?”

“All of you.” The sphinx’s nod took in the waiting caravans and the line of delegates behind her current victim, all toting their heavy riddle books under their arms. “Union regs only say I shall test each traveller and admit the worthy to the city. There’s no rule that says I have to ask the riddles. A person could get tired of creating riddles after a few centuries, you know.” She sniffed. “No one appreciates the work that goes into a good riddle.”

The merchant had too much on his mind to sympathise. Like just how big the sphinx was close up—bigger than a horse. Bigger than two horses, maybe. Not to mention the size of her teeth.

“Well?” said the sphinx, her snake-like tail twitching impatiently.

“Well what, your graciousness?”

“Are you going to ask me a riddle or shall I just eat you straight off?”

The merchant scrambled back in alarm. “Just a minute, your ladyship.”

He reached for his riddle book and she growled. “And that’s another thing. No more riddle books.”

“No more—?” The merchant cast an anguished glance at his well-thumbed copy of Riddle Me This. His father had presented it to him before his first journey to Tebos, and it had served him well ever since, though there had been that tense patch when the sphinx had decided that riddles were passé, and knock-knock jokes would introduce a little levity into the proceedings.

“Tick tick tick,” said the sphinx. “Time is money, you know.” She yawned, luscious, bee-stung lips pulling back to reveal wicked canines. Sweat sprang out on the merchant’s brow.

“Um …”

The sphinx flowed to her feet as the merchant hesitated. He scrambled backwards as she paced towards him, his eyes riveted on her face. “No, please. Just a minute, your magnificence. Mercy. Just—just—give me a second.”

His foot slipped and for a moment he windmilled on the edge of the precipice that looked down over Tebos. She waited, crouched down so they were nose to nose, till he stopped gasping.

“Lovely view,” he said with a sickly smile.

“The riddle, merchant.”

“What’s … what, um …” His brain had seized with terror. He rummaged desperately through the echoing spaces inside his skull for a riddle. Any riddle.


Buy this story on Amazon.  Find more of Marina’s work here.

"Choking Cupid" by Mira Day (Novelette)

Genre:  Chick Lit, Romance

Type of Short Story: Novelette

Summary:  Worst. Day. Ever.

At least for Summer Wilson. At 32 and single, she dreads Valentine's Day more than any other, and her hungry-for-grandchildren mother doesn't help matters.

When Summer's plans of wine, movies and ice cream with her best friend, Jessica, are ruined, Summer is forced to go on a blind date that would make any girl cringe. Pile on crabby customers and hotter-than-she remembers ex-boyfriends, all crowding into a local Asheville restaurant, and she can't imagine the day getting any worse.

In desperation, she turns to her new neighbor to help take her mind off her least favorite day, but even he might not be able to handle her aversion to Cupid.

Excerpt:

“Don’t hate me.”

I read the text again, as I lock the café up for the day. After barricading myself in the office for a majority of the shift, I am more than ready to get out of there. Every time I ventured out into the dining room, someone on staff made a comment about me getting desperate or that I can only find guys at work. I brushed it off to not egg them on, but the bottle of wine at home is calling to me.

I hit the button to call Jessica. “Don’t hate me,” texts are never good.

“Ok, so really, don’t hate me.”

“What did you do, Jess?”

“How set are you on our plans?”

I walk down the icy hill to my car, glaring at the sidewalk. “You’re ruining them aren’t you?”

She giggles, “Actually, I may have just improved them. I met this super cute guy and he wants to take us out tonight. He has a friend for you.”

Jessica never finds the highest quality of guys. She usually falls for the first thing with biceps that pay her any attention, and trust me, they all pay her attention. Her bright blue eyes and red hair gives her the exotic, firecracker look the guys like to try and tame while her take-no-shit attitude keeps them begging for more.

I shake my head quickly, “No. No, no, no Jessica. Remember last time this happened? We met up with him and it turned out, he didn’t have a friend. And for whatever reason, we still ended up at home boy’s apartment. Oh, and let’s not forget the threesome he had planned.”

“It’s different this time. I actually met the friend. I promise.”

I climb in the car, allowing the phone to connect to the Bluetooth. Sitting back in my seat, I scowl at the dashboard. “What about the time the ‘friend’ was the guy’s sister. That was a fun night.”

“Geez, you’ll never let me forget that will you?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, Summer. Do you know how long it’s been since I last had sex? I think I’m a virgin again. I need this.”

I make a face, “You don’t really expect me to believe that do you?”

“Oh yeah, it’s you who hasn’t had sex in forever!” She howls like a hyena at her own joke.

“You are such a bitch. Remind me why I’m friends with you?”

“Because you love me and I’m only looking out for your sexual well being. Now, go wash the café stink off you. I’ll be over in fifteen. Make sure to find something sexy, we’re going to Social Lounge tonight.”

Buy this story on Amazon.

"Dead On The Floor" by Rocky Rochford (Short Story)

Genre:  Paranormal Thriller

Type of Short Story:  Short Story

Summary:  The beginning of the End starts now. For some of us, Life can be cruel, dealing us a losing hand and for Matthew Radley, a young Wiccan practitioner that is exactly what he got. After a lifetime of chaos, pain and losing himself, he finally got everything he wanted, the woman he loved, the future he desired and a reason to live, but in a single moment he lost it all. Unable to take the pain and no longer desire to live, Matthew takes the one thing he has left, his own life. For Matthew, his story has to end, in order for it to begin, his story has no happy ending, for his is a life of Love, Magick, Corruption, & Death and only asks for understanding.

Excerpt:

How did it all go so wrong? I saw this coming and I still couldn’t change it! It still came to this! I failed. I had risked everything, and now I have nothing. Forgive me. With skin parted and veins severed, blood is quick to emerge and drip everywhere. Droplets of blood fall into the sink, and as a wide-eyed Matthew takes a step back, his blood now hits the ground. It is now that he sits himself down against the bath and accepts what is to come, bringing him to the here and now. “I should have known that it would be love that kills me.” He winces. “But what’s done is done.”

Buy this story on Amazon.