Tag: Debora C. Martin

Deadbook by Debora C. Martin

Marie was stretched out on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine, flicking through the television channels. We’d already watched two shows featuring evil people, smart crime solvers, and autopsies, not speaking much while we watched, dozing off from time to time, but not at the same time. Marie rested the remote on her thigh.

Continue reading

FICTION: Ricochet by Debora C. Martin

On the day Chris moved in permanently, Sharon surprised him with a leather chair and matching ottoman. Now he sat motionless on the ottoman, his back to the leather chair, and studied the stenciled plaster wall, seeing nothing. His Colt 1911, with seven bullets in the clip, lay on the floor three feet away, and

Continue reading