CRIME FICTION FRIDAY – AZIZ’S STORY OF THE JOURNALIST NAZIR BY WILLIAM J JACKSON

We continue our celebration of International Crime Fiction Month with short stories from Akishic’s Mondays Are Murder posts. William J. Jackson, a writer known for depicting the humanity in the world’s trouble spots gives us the celebration of journalists around the world who sacrifice their lives for the truth.

 

 

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CRIME FICTION FRIDAY- HELPLESS BY SEAMUS SCANLON

To celebrate International Crime Fiction Month we’re giving our Crime Fiction Friday slot over to Akashic Books, known for their anthologies of noir tales that all take place in a particular city, and their Monday’s Are Murder post with a crime story that also takes place in a city and has to be under 500 words. One of their regular contributors is Irish writer Seamus Scanlon. Here, he looks at a murder in Galway where you’ll never hear a certain Neil Young song the same way again.

Crime Fiction Friday: FANCY FOOTWORK by Robert Dean

  • Selected and introduced by Crime Fiction Coordinator Scott Montgomery

One of the great things about hard boiled crime fiction is it’s visceral appeal. I recently met an author from our home base in Austin, who goes by the name Robert Dean, who has that down. In this take on the boxing crime story, Dean delivers a few fresh takes and a lot of brutality. If you’re a fan of Frank Bill or Benjamin Whitmer, you will like Robert Dean and if the first paragraph of this story is too much, the rest of it will kill you.

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Fancy Footwork

By Robert Dean

A fist the size of a phonebook crashed into Jimenez’s mouth like driver spinning on a DUI. He felt the sting of the knuckles moving past the lips, through the canines and headed straight for his molars. Canines rocked loose in their sockets while blood pooled where the rips of flesh barely held the teeth in place. Goddamn, did this son of a bitch have a punch.

Despite having a skull like a bag of concrete, the strikes Jimenez endured felt like a whole new agony. Defenseless, he sat with his arms tied to the back of a metal folding chair.

Chuckie May, Anton DeRulo’s goon was hard at work beating the ever-loving fuck out of him. Chuckie struck Jimenez like he was living out a fantasy, taking shot after shot, but also turning the event into a strange sexual exploitation as he threw fists into the meat of Jimenez’s core.

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Crime Fiction Friday: “The Story Daddy Never Know” by Elisha Efua Bartels

 

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  • Selected and Introduced by Crime Fiction Coordinator Scott Montgomery

In honor of International Crime Fiction month, we’re sharing some of our favorite pieces from Akashic Books’ Mondays are Murder series. Each story is shaped by its unique setting. Our last Friday to feature Akashic’s Mondays Are Murder ends with a trip to Trinidad courtesy of Elisha Efua Bartels. She uses an interesting cadence and meter for a story with one dark ending.

“The Story Daddy Never Know” by Elisha Efua Bartels

“What sweet in goat mouth does sour in he bambam . . . her mother’s words seem an echo but come from inside, making the chorus of a song (something she cyah remember doing since reaching double-digits) with verses of mondayjanuarysixthtwentyfourteen and eighteenthbirthdayfirstdayofmylife—sometimes she hearing first-day, sometimes last, but mostly first; annoying, even so. She turn and snap, “shut up, ma!” more to break the singsongy internal refrain than for lack of comprehending the futility of her words.”

Read the rest of the story.

Crime Fiction Friday: “Lena” by Preston Lang

 

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  • Selected and Introduced by Crime Fiction Coordinator Scott Montgomery

With it being International Crime Fiction Month, we will be offering some selections from Akashic Press’ Mondays Are Murder blog series. The series challenges authors to write a short crime story under 750 words with a distinct setting. First we stop off at Heathrow Airport with Preston Lang’s tale of con artist correspondence.

“Lena” by Preston Lang

My dear. My sweetest intimate. I long to be with you. We will touch with a profound fondness. You are the house of my soul. I count on you to send the funds so that we may be together—85,000 United States Dollars….”

Read the rest of the story.