Story Excerpts
by Loren D. Estleman
Philander Hunt, manager of the Good Advice Savings and Loan, sprinted out onto the sidewalk, almost tripping on the tails of his vintage morning coat, which had been tailored for a much larger man. His voice cracked like a clarinet with a split reed.
“The bank’s been robbed!”
The cry was unnecessary, since the four bandits were already in motion in front of the building, swinging into their saddles, shooting and shouting to clear their retreat; but the bank held the mortgages of half the town council, and it was thought politic to humor his theatrical ambitions. READ MORE
by Randy F. Nelson
Part of the iceberg, the part facing Briggs and the lighthouse, was wedge-shaped. It made the entire mass look like an ocean liner drifting down from the Arctic, but then on the morning of the fourth day the wedge itself broke off, creating a surge that rolled all the way to Attu Island and washed the shore like an unexpected tide. After that Briggs thought the berg resembled a wedding cake. He estimated its course from the gallery deck of the lighthouse and wondered if he should log it as a navigation hazard. Not that it would last much longer as it drifted south. Still, that was the job. Keep the light on. Keep the logbook up to date. And keep the U.S. Navy safe. All one of him. READ MORE