Hello, my loyal readers. My latest release is available live on Amazon and anywhere else you get your books. Evil That Men Do, Book Three of Four Season, is a continuation of the epic saga featuring the women protagonists who become pivotal in books four, Road to Nowhere, book five, that’s already self-published titled Clockmaker and Red Widow, and book six, Desperado.
Tag Archives: Short Story
Bad, Good and Sad
It’s been one hell of a week I’ll grant you that. Sorry my loyal readers for not reaching out to you earlier. It does seem like events occur by luck or fate, in terms of threes. This past week was no exception. Remember the Clint Eastwood Spaghetti western, The Good the Bad and the Ugly? This would be entitled, Bad, Good and Sad.
Hot Rod Lincoln
The heat above the track didn’t just rise—it shimmered. It was a midsummer night, long past midnight, and only the headlights of two powerful cars cut through the darkness as their V-8 engines rumbled. Beyond them stretched pitch-black emptiness and a sky crowded with stars.
Strange People
It’s me, Tommy, you know Master Jerry’s cat. Elsa and I had this strange visit the other day by these strange people that just came in out of the blue. At least I wasn’t aware they were coming. It does explain Master Jerry’s strange behavior before they arrived.
Under The Bridge
“You got the shit?” The angry appearing Black man sneered at the dwarf with big mutton chops and one patch over his left eye. They rendezvoused at Monroe Street Bridge. The Hunter’s Moon was full and white and bright; there was no need for streetlights as the satellite showed everything this October night a little after midnight.
The Mailbox: Part 2
“Oh, to relive those days again,” Carl chuckled. “You were a handful that’s for sure.” He walked up the slight grade. His breathing, though steady became increasingly labored. He searched for that chair to sit upon before he became too weak to walk further.
The Mailbox
Carl used his white cane to guide him to the mud room where his black boots sat on the floor next to a chair from the last time he put them on, this time yesterday. It was a chore of love toward his daughter Susan that he did this each and every day except Sunday.
Tiffany A Porcelain Doll
Her face appeared flawless. The color of ivory, as smooth and perfect as window glass she had a perfect look. Her name was Tiffany, at least that’s the name I gave her when I found her yesterday morning.
11-11-11
The eleventh hours of the eleventh day of the eleventh month Private Doug Clark wasted away in an endless trench on the Western Front; a wasteland of craters, mud and tree trunks splintered by bombs and howitzer shells.
Stupid is as Stupid Does
I don’t know about you, my loyal readers, but doesn’t it seem a bit asinine that we see all these recent robberies at jewelry stores?
After all, I’m amazed that these owners are even allowed to display high end jewels in glass display cases.
Jerry Schellhammer 