Shotgun Honey

‘We gotta kick at the darkness TIL it bleeds daylight.” #BookSky
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Well that cat's out of the bag ... more news soon. Welcome aboard Beau. You axed nicely, so how could we say no.

A Robbery on Main Street by Kate Kaminski It’s over. We all heard the shots. Two, one right after the other. It’s Christmas Eve and the street surges with holiday shoppers, protecting you in their midst, a gathering the cops ignore. Those of us gawping form a semi-circle around the glass doors of the bank, a rapt audience. Our stomach-churning, naked curiosity is understandable, even welcome. Somebody says,

A Robbery on Main Street by Kate Kaminski

It’s over. We all heard the shots. Two, one right after the other. It’s Christmas Eve and the street surges with holiday shoppers, protecting you in their midst, a gathering the cops ignore. Those of us gawping form a semi-circle around the glass doors of…

Dead Santas by Michael Wegener Rawls walked out of the joint the week before Christmas. Cold wind fixing to edge more lines into his face. Chrissy was waiting for him leaning against her car, still looking mighty fine. She’d been visiting him inside all the time, but seeing her outside was different. Sure, parts of her seemed more susceptible to gravity than before—but that didn’t bother him much.

Dead Santas by Michael Wegener

Rawls walked out of the joint the week before Christmas. Cold wind fixing to edge more lines into his face. Chrissy was waiting for him leaning against her car, still looking mighty fine. She’d been visiting him inside all the time, but seeing her outside was…

One Eye Press In 2013, Shotgun Honey launched its first imprint, One Eye Press. The idea was to offer a line of novellas and short story collections, and our own anthology series Shotgun Honey Presents. That imprin...

Have a novella? Crime? No? Not a problem. (re)Introduce One Eye Press. We're looking for good stories in an itty bitty living space. 8k - 30k words.

We're not alone, either. Tough Crime publisher @rustybarnes23.bsky.social is joining the team.

submissions.shotgunhoney.com/publication/...

The Girl’s Name was Ella by Jason M. Tucker Who am I? Call me Charlie. When people need something to go away, I’m the guy they call. Blood, bodies, punk bitches, and snitches. I take care of it all—one-stop shop to make lives easier or make lives end. Just gotta pay me. And keep your fucking mouth shut. I don’t market myself. I don’t put cryptic ads on Craigslist. Don’t need to.

The Girl’s Name was Ella by Jason M. Tucker

Who am I? Call me Charlie. When people need something to go away, I’m the guy they call. Blood, bodies, punk bitches, and snitches. I take care of it all—one-stop shop to make lives easier or make lives end. Just gotta pay me. And keep your fucking mouth…

a puppet wearing a chef 's hat looks out of a window ALT: a puppet wearing a chef 's hat looks out of a window

To our American readers, have a tryptophan filled day. Happy Turkey Day.

Everyone else we hope you have the best of days.

The Ledger by Christine Heriat You head to his house with intention, approachin’ it all sneakin’ and surprise like. Cut your chopper bike’s engine down the end of the street. You go in the way you have your entire life: hot. Push his rotted door open like it's your own. You carry a heavy case. His narrowed eyes, his tight mouth, tell you it would’ a been smarter to carry what’s inside the case in your waistband, or hand.

The Ledger by Christine Heriat

You head to his house with intention, approachin’ it all sneakin’ and surprise like. Cut your chopper bike’s engine down the end of the street. You go in the way you have your entire life: hot. Push his rotted door open like it's your own. You carry a heavy case. His…

Piñata by Aidan Shousky “It’s tight,” Denny Cullen said, picking at the polyester blindfold that cut into the soft skin under his eyes like a noose. Wink Easman stood behind Denny, his wide frame and swollen belly pressing against the younger man’s back as he fixed the knot of the blindfold and patted him on the shoulders like a coach attempting to soothe a rookie quarterback.

Piñata by Aidan Shousky

“It’s tight,” Denny Cullen said, picking at the polyester blindfold that cut into the soft skin under his eyes like a noose. Wink Easman stood behind Denny, his wide frame and swollen belly pressing against the younger man’s back as he fixed the knot of the blindfold and…

Author Bobby Matthews *New Episode* Stories with Brisco and Bradshaw YouTube video by Stories With Brisco And Bradshaw

I was a guest on WWE Hall of Famers' Jerry Brisco and John Bradshaw Layfield's podcast. Just went live. Check it out: youtu.be/dln0nol5US8?...

Where’s Paul by Jen Conley Ryan stood next to the open casket, waiting for his older brother, Paul, who hadn’t shown up yet. The room, with its yellow walls and lights that were too bright for the occasion, was crowded. A group of his father’s friends from the retirement community, clustered in chairs, reminisced about Joseph Granger, the tall man who made them laugh. Former schoolmates of Ryan’s huddled in the back, laughing about old times.

Where’s Paul by Jen Conley

Ryan stood next to the open casket, waiting for his older brother, Paul, who hadn’t shown up yet. The room, with its yellow walls and lights that were too bright for the occasion, was crowded. A group of his father’s friends from the retirement community, clustered in…

Ballad of the Haint Hound Killer by Ryan Michael Hines Come gather round me, I’ll tell you the taleof the Haint Hound Killer, what come from La ValeThree nights he rode horseback, up from Cumberland waythree nights of the Haint Hound’s howlin’ and bay I could feel him comin’ in the way the wind blew. The sparrow’s flight told me it’d not be long before I was discovered.

Ballad of the Haint Hound Killer by Ryan Michael Hines

Come gather round me, I’ll tell you the taleof the Haint Hound Killer, what come from La ValeThree nights he rode horseback, up from Cumberland waythree nights of the Haint Hound’s howlin’ and bay I could feel him comin’ in the way the wind…

Among the Neanderthals by Richie Narvaez When we moved to the new cave, Dook became my first and best homie. My tribe bounced around a lot, trying to dodge the cold and get grub, you know? When we found this cave, Dad was stoked. Then, we found this whole other tribe already living there. A small one, but, like, seriously? They were short, stocky, had, like, the biggest brows I’d ever seen.

Among the Neanderthals by Richie Narvaez

When we moved to the new cave, Dook became my first and best homie. My tribe bounced around a lot, trying to dodge the cold and get grub, you know? When we found this cave, Dad was stoked. Then, we found this whole other tribe already living there. A small…

For the evening folks.

Book Release: What the Rain Reveals by Ken Brosky We a pleased to release WHAT THE RAIN REVEALS by Ken Brosky. A story of loss and mystery set in What to Expect inside... In the Driftless Area of Wisconsin, where rolling hills and hidden valleys guard secrets as old as the land itself, a missing child’s case threatens to slip into oblivion. The leads have dried up. County resources are stretched thin.

Book Release: What the Rain Reveals by Ken Brosky

We a pleased to release WHAT THE RAIN REVEALS by Ken Brosky. A story of loss and mystery set in What to Expect inside... In the Driftless Area of Wisconsin, where rolling hills and hidden valleys guard secrets as old as the land itself, a missing…

What the Rain Reveals by Ken Brosky In the Driftless Area of Wisconsin, where rolling hills and hidden valleys guard secrets as old as the land itself, a missing child’s case threatens to slip into oblivion. The leads have dried up. …

Tomorrow, where good books can be had. WHAT THE RAIN REVEALS by Ken Brosky.

shotgunhoney.com/books/catalo...

Lubbock to El Paso by Gabriela Stiteler Sloane and Jess were at a laundromat in a strip mall in North El Paso wearing clothes that belonged to a dead man and watching their jeans run through the spin cycle. The sun was up and the sky looked big the way it can in certain parts of Texas. It was filled with smoke from the wildfires raging to the northeast of the city.

Lubbock to El Paso by Gabriela Stiteler

Sloane and Jess were at a laundromat in a strip mall in North El Paso wearing clothes that belonged to a dead man and watching their jeans run through the spin cycle. The sun was up and the sky looked big the way it can in certain parts of Texas. It was…

What Do the Girls Have to Say About the Guy? | The Stiletto Gang A Guest Post by Author M.E. Proctor

I have a guest post at Stiletto Gang today ... it's a fun one: What Do the Girls Have to Say About the Guy? ... If you're curious, have a read: www.thestilettogang.com/2025/10/10/w...

Operation Depresso by Stefan Sofiski Here I am—another beat city bloke emerging from the London tube. I breathe out the soot and engine grease I’ve inhaled underground, and queue up for my morning dose of americano with extra shot of depresso. Busy station—cafes and bakeries, mechanical voice soundtrack and miserable commuters dragging themselves to be swallowed by glitzy office blocks for the next nine hours.

Operation Depresso by Stefan Sofiski

Here I am—another beat city bloke emerging from the London tube. I breathe out the soot and engine grease I’ve inhaled underground, and queue up for my morning dose of americano with extra shot of depresso. Busy station—cafes and bakeries, mechanical voice…

Jake Halligan just can't stay out of trouble. Coming soon from RHP and @nkolakowski.bsky.social: RIGHTEOUS TRASH. Pre-order your copy today: amzn.to/46dBfHR

Key Largo by Warren Flynn The man was already half in love with her before she even said his name. “Danny,” she drawled, letting the syllables melt like rum over ice. “You smell like driftwood and other people’s mistakes.” He laughed too quickly—shoulders tight, eyes flickering like they’d misread something. A laugh that begged: please, let this stay simple. She leaned in, close enough for him to catch the synthetic coconut oil in her hair.

Key Largo by Warren Flynn

The man was already half in love with her before she even said his name. “Danny,” she drawled, letting the syllables melt like rum over ice. “You smell like driftwood and other people’s mistakes.” He laughed too quickly—shoulders tight, eyes flickering like they’d misread…

We are planning to open subs this month. Sorry for the delay. We didn't want to be overwhelmed with flash, Monkees, and books at once. We'll have an announcement Monday. I'll look int the form issue. It maybe exclusive to that form.

Fore by James Burroughs Later, once all requisite reports had been properly filled out, it was determined that the break-in had occurred at 9:30 a.m. Timing, as the sage has pointed out, is everything. Most especially when police forms are done in triplicate. Perhaps if it had been a weekday during the school year, the escaped murderer and bank robber extraordinaire Norman Peters might still be alive.

Fore by James Burroughs

Later, once all requisite reports had been properly filled out, it was determined that the break-in had occurred at 9:30 a.m. Timing, as the sage has pointed out, is everything. Most especially when police forms are done in triplicate. Perhaps if it had been a weekday…

You might have missed The Last Train to Clarksville, but you can still have a Pleasant Valley Sunday.

youtu.be/lDBPq_9hKqE?...

What's your favorite song from the Monkees?

youtu.be/4PQAqprjOuA?...

Death Valley by Jacob Sloane I saw death in his eyes. Doug sensed it too. “Stay,” he said, gripping my shirt. Sand scattered from his hands and down my front. “I can get help,” I said, not believing there’d be time. Swallowing, Doug shook his head. His lips were dry and crusted. His eyes sunken. The baking heat of the desert does that to a man.

Death Valley by Jacob Sloane

I saw death in his eyes. Doug sensed it too. “Stay,” he said, gripping my shirt. Sand scattered from his hands and down my front. “I can get help,” I said, not believing there’d be time. Swallowing, Doug shook his head. His lips were dry and crusted. His eyes sunken.…

Daydream Believer Anthology Submissions / Daydream believer Days Hours Minutes DAYDREAM BELIEVER Stories Inspired by the Songs of the Monkees DAYDREAM BELIEVER —an anthology of crime fiction short stories inspired by the song…

Are you a believer? This month we are having a special submission window for DAYDREAM BELIEVER: Crime Stories Inspired by the Music of The Monkees edited by @writelarrywrite.lawrenceallanwrites.com and @michellekubitz.bsky.social.

shotgunhoney.com/submissions/...

Numbers of a Life by Kristen Gareau 1 kid (a mom at sixteen). 2 death threats (both from him, years apart). 3 years with him (I should have left sooner). 4 Plan Bs taken (one didn’t work). 5 years with Aria (she starts kindergarten in the fall). 6 friends dead (drugs , car accident , suicide, drugs , drowning). 7 times in a police station (at ages seven, eighteen, nineteen, and twenty).

Numbers of a Life by Kristen Gareau

1 kid (a mom at sixteen). 2 death threats (both from him, years apart). 3 years with him (I should have left sooner). 4 Plan Bs taken (one didn’t work). 5 years with Aria (she starts kindergarten in the fall). 6 friends dead (drugs , car accident , suicide,…

Book Club: Catch Me on a Blue Day by M.E. Proctor | Shotgun Honey Get more from Shotgun Honey on Patreon

www.patreon.com/posts/book-c...

The Man on Five by Gavin Kent Henry didn’t particularly like any of his new neighbours, but he had a special antipathy for Dustin, the man on five. He stank, for a start, his odour lingering in the elevator for hours after he’d used it. He smoked weed wherever he felt like it, carried out loud telephone conversations in the stairwell, and blasted music day and night. He was, in short, a daily irritant, making Henry’s newly straitened life even more unpleasant than it already was.

The Man on Five by Gavin Kent

Henry didn’t particularly like any of his new neighbours, but he had a special antipathy for Dustin, the man on five. He stank, for a start, his odour lingering in the elevator for hours after he’d used it. He smoked weed wherever he felt like it, carried out loud…