“W” Wild Game by Newt Livesay

Poe skull

Maybe this should have been titled ” What the cat dragged in.” If you are stewing over how to get rid of that pesky corpse, a drive into the back country may be worth your while:

A boyhood friend of mine whom I spent many hours playing cowboys, army or camping out in the back yard with lived only a few blocks from my house. His parents were divorced and I spent many hours at his grandparents’ house where he lived. His grandfather had a small fishing bait store that sat on the highway leading to the lake. The area was semi-country with large open spaces between houses. Well one day while playing at my friend’s house, his grandfather came out and told us to find out what the dog was chewing on and go bury it. Seems the dog had been chewing and rolling on a stinky, meat morsel he had drug up from the woods. The dog would come welcome new customers when they drove up to the bait shop, and the smell from him rolling on the chunk of whatever was making people flee. My friend and I get a shovel and went to find the chew toy that Big Red had been playing with the last few days. Finding the doggy treat was surprising to say the least. At first we could not figure out what we were looking at until one of us took a stick and scraped away some of the lawn clipping and oak leaves stuff to its surface of the semi-round chunky treat. It had human teeth!  It scared the heck out of us two young pecker-woods and we went screaming across the yard like little sissy-girls looking for grandpa. A phone call brought the cops, local sheriff, and state police. It did not take long to find the body in the field across the street from the bait store. Seems the possums, coons, dogs, domestic house cats and assorted wild vermin had scattered what was left of it over a couple hundred square feet. The man’s identity was made from the half dozen upper teeth still in the meat ball. With the price of gold now, my friend and I should have spent a few minutes checking his teeth I guess, but that is hind sight and I should have also bought Coke-a-Cola and Wal-Mart stock while I am lamenting.

**

I am winding up the A to Z month with some handy tips for writers. My very good friend Newt Livesay is deliberate in his research and since crime is his genre he has to figure out a way for his “bad guys” get rid of bodies. Newt did a blog called the body disposal group where these different “pieces” are taken from.

Newt is finalizing a novel set in New Orleans titled: “The Man that Tattooed Women.” This novel  is one part serial killer one part raging hurricane which sums up to a thrilling ride. If you like a book that you can’t put down and you find yourself screaming”RUN”  at the characters, then you will like this story. The novel should be in e-book form by this summer.

You can find Newt at Facebook  onTwitter he is @newtlivesay. If you or anyone you know has served in the military, it is quiet likely that they used a Livesay knife to stay alive. Newt is an excellent writer and a dear friend and I am grateful for the tips he is sharing for the letters T-W!!!

***

Now for the Disclaimer – This blog does not suggest that anyone should do anything that would be considered illegal. This is a blog for writers to use for research, and as comical relief of a very serious problem. If you do not understand this fully, or you think this give you the rights to commit an illegal act, you’re one sick bastard, and you should seek competent mental counseling immediately.
 All rights reserved  (c) 2015 by Newt Livesay

W

Wow it’s “W” and A to Z Challenge is wrapping up this week. More A to Z folks to meet:

 

1075.
1096.
1097.
1100.
1106.
1107.
1113.
1120.

 

“Q” Quill by Leslie Moon #atozchallenge

Today is “Q” for A to Z challenge. This week I am stepping into the writer’s circle and writing a  microfiction serial set in the metropolis of NewCago. It’s a bit noir, paranormal, crime and even some fiction. Though this is a serial, I do understand some of you will be dropping by via A to Z so you can read each day as stand alone microfiction.

The NewCago series – Missed , Never, Oldest Trick, Poison

Edgars desk

Murder is certainly not a new concept even the techniques get rehashed.

I was just cleaning up a scene where the victim had been stabbed with a poisoned quill – his own.

“Check his manuscripts,” I heard a whisper pass my ear.

” Luz, honey where do I start? There are piles of books and notebooks.”

“We need you to move on here, Sam.” The officer in charge was hustling to get behind the evening’s bars.

I put several notebooks in a satchel while he wasn’t looking and hoped he hadn’t heard me talking to my dead girlfriend.

***

That night- I was nodding off, with a notebook in my hands, when I heard a voice. “This is what they killed me for.”

The notebook opened to a page where the words were in his blood, “High officials are taking bribes from the gang bosses.”

“That’s not news.” I shook my head at the realization I was talking to another dead person.

“Yeh, but pretty boy is selling us out. You don’t do his bidding, he turns your kids and grandkids into body parts.”

“I’ve heard whispers of a chop shop for organs. I was hoping it was a sick rumor.”

“Nope, our guy is hi-bred evil. He’s turning the best and brightest into canned goods.  He killed me for the articles I sent to the Daily that will never get printed.  Not Now.”

“Ok Pen Man, there’s a red circle around his name.”

I grumbled under my breath, “Luz, The list is getting long. Too long.”

And then there was the morning news to deal with…

new cago daily

Some A to Z bloggers worth visiting today:

784.
804.

“P” Poison Has Its Uses #atozchallenge

white bloody rose

I heard a banging on the steel grated door.

“Umm huh. Yeah I’m coming. Hey Peely.”

“Here this is for you.” The errand boy, who we were both so found of, handed me a box.

Inside was a hat I had admired for months, The card underneath in her handwriting.

“Peel, ya know what I hate most about this town?”

“Yeh, Sam, I know. It’s so damned lonely.”

“Tonight a few people are gonna wish they were just lonely. ”

I looked under the envelope flap and saw four names circled in red.

“Hey Peel ya got plans tonight? I need a special delivery…. ”

****

“Just one sniff of these beautys, that’s all that’s needed, Peel. ”

“I’ll make sure that he takes a big whiff. ”

“You must be subtle. Remember this guy can sniff out trouble like a shark. As he looks at the card, make a comment like:   ‘The more expensive these damn flowers the less they smell. And then: “Oh I’m sorry, sir, did I just say that out loud?”

“If the wife or mistress is around, she may inhale first. ” Peel’s eyes grew big.

“That’s okay it takes several minutes to take effect.”

“What if I demonstrate?”

“Yes, Peel that would work fine except then you would be poisoned. Hmm wait a minute. Can we plug your nose?”

“I have some of those foam ear plugs. ”

“Ok, yeah cram them up your nose right before the delivery. Use a little Vaseline as a seal.”

“This had better work. ”

“Careful this guy suspects his grandmother. PLEASE Don’t go getting yourself dead.”

“I won’t, Sam.”

Lately, People I care about find themselves under headstones…

cemetery rose

732.

Oldest Trick in the Book by Leslie Moon #atozchallenge

Today is the “O” for A to Z challenge. This week I am stepping into the writer’s circle and writing a week long serial set in the metropolis of NewCago. Its a bit of noir, crime and even some fiction. Though this is a serial, I do understand some of you will be dropping by via A to Z so you can read each day as stand alone microfiction.

The NewCago series – “Missed” , Never

 

newcago blood

 

I looked at my watch – 5 pm time for the cops to crawl into hiding.

I inhale Courage every night before 6. It’s my dead lover’s not mine.

A long blood curdling scream bites into the last flicker of day and night begins.

Decency’s doors are closed and it’s just me and the bad guys.

 

***

After banging around in the trashbin of Newcago,  I needed a drink.  I salivated at the thought of a tall one and a cheese steak.

As soon as I entered Tony’s, I noticed the dame – she was a looker. I couldn’t get a read on the guy beneath the brim.

“Yeah, the regular,” I nodded as I slumped on a stool. Sally and I go back to days when drinks came from the spigot behind the barn.

I couldn’t help but hear dollface gagging.  I rushed to stop her fall; too late the white stuff was bubbling from her mouth, her eyes glazed over.

Something, besides the guy under the shadowy brim, was missin- the large sparkler around her wrist.

“Baby, Newcago is not for the likes of you. These gangsters are old school, girls are cheap…”

I bent over and looked in her vacant eyes. “Didn’t no one tell ya, the playing is for keeps!!!”

I slammed the gin and tonic down. Sal failed to muster a smile.

“Watch your back, Sam.” She whispered in the grey light before dawn.

Lily

There’s so much to enjoy about the A to Z Challenge in April – many people to meet and many fine posts to enjoy.

atoz-oldbook-01-wb

Never Together by Leslie Moon #atozchallenge

Today is the N for A to Z challenge. This week I am stepping into the writer’s circle and writing a week long serial set in the metropolis of NewCago. Its a bit of noir, crime and even some fiction. Though this is a serial, I do understand some of you will be dropping by via A to Z so you can read each day as stand alone microfiction.

The first of the NewCago series – “Missed”

newcago paper

I remember the first time we saw each other – We hadn’t seen each other since we were kids out in the country.

Then everything went haywire. Caesar took what he wanted including the lives of my parents.

At 17, I fled – their night screams chased me for years.

I was entranced by New Cago; she beckoned with her dazzling lights and her rich satins. I didn’t know about the slime underneath until it owned me.

Sam didn’t know how I was making it, I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

 When I wrote,  I told him I had a job and my own place.

Yeah, some call  it a job. The men liked my blue eyes ‘that girl has spirit!’

 But what the hell there was money and a bunk.  I wasn’t locked up in someone’s vault and the temple goons stayed away.

Caesar was murdered and we all celebrated in fountains of bubbly. Within days, the gangs took over and I learned to shoot a gun.

A gang lord wanted to claim me as “property rights.”

Sam showed up just when they were forging my personal chain.

Sam  always could look straight down to my heart. He knew but never said a word.

Sam was something those gangsters were not and they feared him.

Evil never sleeps though and on my birthday someone took a lucky shot.

Dog gone, I’ve pulled Sam into this rotten city and now I’m dead.

 My real name is Lucerne which means ‘Life.’  My blood is a type of antidote Medicago they call it. That’s why when the bullet passed through me and into Sam he didn’t die.

Sam, do what you’ve gotta do – my blood will keep you alive.

75_Medicago_sativa_L

 

 

 

Image attribution:”75 Medicago sativa L” by Amédée Masclef – Atlas des plantes de France. 1891. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons – http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:75_Medicago_sativa_L.jpg#/media/File:75_Medicago_sativa_L.jpg

Did you know there are more than 10,000 children orphaned by Ebola in West Africa? Many of these children have nothing and are stigmatized by their communities (and extended family). We are trying to find a way to raise funds to help. More info here.

fill logo

Enjoy these A to Z participants today:

650.
654.
658.

Missed by Leslie Moon #atozchallenge

newcago blood
It’s a messed up place.  “NewCago – the metropolis of the golden age.” Ha – It was a great city ’til something went wrong.
 What were they were thinking when they reconstituted  Julius Caesar’s DNA.
Wouldnt you expect –  senseless killings, women enslaved , children given as offerings?  I can still see it – blood on the streets.
One night he was poisoned;  the next morning the MOB came in and became the government.  So we went from a crazy demigod to a bloodthirsty gang led society.
People are scared so they live in a cage. It should be called NewCage.
People know better than to go out after 6 at night,  even the cops.
As the clock chimes the hour in city hall, you can hear the clang of metal clad doors being slammed shut and quadruple locked..
The fancy folks have remote timed doors that close with lead bars that drop into feet of metal lined concrete.
I remember chuckling to my Lucy, ” It’s like living in a coffin for half of your life.”
So that night I told her, “Let’s go celebrate your birthday. I have this in an emergency (I pulled out my Glock .) I’m tired of breathing stagnant air.”
If I hadn’t been so cavalier, I would be tucking her in instead of cradling her bloodied body.
“Luce, why did you block the bullet? It was meant for me, doll. You deserve to live another day. I never started living ’til I found you again.”
 Problems follow me as does death. Blood seems to always end up on my hands. 

blood drips

A to Z participants I am enjoying today:
573.

“F” Un- Faithful by Steve Slack

corn cockle

Dolores Gillpin was married for 10 years. Dolores rarely got angry, but when she did, her rage could be described as the resurrected fury of a Scottish ghost. Her betrothed, William, was a reserved man. Even in the early years of their marriage, he would rarely display bouts of passion. She found this lack of physical love annoying, but she put up with it.

Dolores, out of boredom and wanting of child, would take long walks in the countryside. One bright sunny day she saw William picking a bouquet of wildflowers. Blushing and touched by the gesture, she hoped it might lead to an afternoon of lovemaking. When she arrived back at the cottage, she prepared for the anticipated romp. William returned to the cabin, several hours later, exhausted and sauntered off to bed.

Two weeks later, Dolores watched William picking another bouquet, she noticed he was cheery disposition and spring in his step. Staying concealed in the hedges, she followed him two kilometers away to a widow’s cottage.

Margaret answered the door, accepted the flowers, and passionately wrapped her arms around his neck and kissing him.

Dolores was shattered. Sitting on a rock, as her heart broke, she tried to think what she was going to do. The more she thought the angrier she became.

Returning from the Glenn, Dolores called her childhood friend Molly Giggins, who still lived in Scotland.

“Hello” a mild high-pitched voice came over the receiver.

“Molly this is Dolores in America.”

“What’s wrong?” Molly asked.

“I needed to hear the sound of a friend’s voice.”

“Is William well?”

“Indeed, he and his mistress are just fine.”

“A scoundrel!”

“Aye, I caught him today.”

“How can I help?”

“Remember when we were young girls and we used to read the poetry of David Mallet.”

“Yes, I do. I remember you were always fond of ‘William and Margaret.’”

“Aye,   I must admit missing Corncokle the most.”

“Do you have a garden?”

“Aye, I do.”

“Right now nothing will set you straight faster than a reminder of your home. I’ll pop a package in the mail; it should be their within a week.”

“Your friendship is appreciated.”

“It’s the least I can do for my sister.”

 

A week later a small parcel was delivered to her door. She opened it and found a bag of dark seeds and a pair of rubber gloves. She mixed the seeds with a large bag of bird seed and poured them in the bird feeder. Within a month, springtime had arrived. A new flower that no one had ever seen began to bloom in the grassy fields around the house. A glorious, pink flower sprang from the plant.

It wasn’t long before William noticed the beautiful blossoms growing along the path to his mistress’s door. William plucked a large bouquet and presented them to his love. That night, William did not return home. On the second day missing, she reported his absence to the Sherriff.  Four days later, the postman reported a foul smell coming from Margret’s cottage. The Sherriff found the two of them laying in each other’s arms. They believed that it was a suicide pact between two lovers. No one noticed the bouquet of Corncockle in a vase next to the bed. As sure as the grimly ghost came from the east of Scotland, the birds ate the birdseed, and deposited them in the fields to bloom in spring.

Dolores smiled. Agrostemma Githago was the most poisonous wildflower in Scotland. Contact with the stems, leaves or flowers would lead to emminent death.

Thanks to Emorsgate Seeds for the picture of the Corncockle.

Great blogs to enjoy today!

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