Miss Jo ladled an extra spoonful of golden brown stew over the fat, long dumplings in the bowl before sliding it across the counter to George. His mouth watered at the sight of the red crab legs glistening in the curry. “You fix me well nice,” he said, beaming at the food.
Miss Jo beamed back at him. Her gold tooth with its tiny diamond winked at him from between her full, brown lips. “You know you does get it special,” she said. She leaned her heavy, middle-aged bust over the counter. “I go get my special later?” she whispered . . .
Akashic Books has partnered with three influential independent publishers—Grove Atlantic, Melville House, and Europa Editions—for a month-long initiative featuring acclaimed crime fiction authors, editors, critics, and publishers appearing together in a series of readings, panels, and discussions!
Peter stood over the bathroom sink, checking in the mirror to be sure that the lines of his suit were straight. Assuring himself he looked as good as circumstances permitted, he leaned over the sink and rubbed a smooth beach stone between his hands. Seventy-three days ago he would have used water, but now their community had strict water usage policies . . .