With the full moon there’d be a strong tide to pull the shrimp from the warm lagoons to their spawning ground in the Atlantic. It seemed like all of God’s creatures needed love and were willing to risk everything for it . . .
To celebrate the November publication of USA Noir, we asked contributor Maggie Estep to write about her experience with this Best of the Akashic Noir Series anthology.
Dallas native and Dallas Noir contributor Catherine Cuellar talks about her own experiences with the darker side of Dallas.
To celebrate the publication of USA Noir, we’ve reproduced Akashic publisher and USA Noir editor Johnny Temple’s introduction to the volume.
Join us for two exciting launch events in October: We Do! at the Judson Memorial Church on October 28th, and USA Noir at Otto Penzler’s Mysterious Bookshop on October 29th!
There had, at one time before Katrina, been a park, perhaps beneath his feet, right where a surveyor had discovered the young woman’s body. Ike couldn’t tell anymore. There was just this no-man’s-land of tall weeds between the levee and the Brad Pitt houses, their solar panels absorbing the mid-morning sun . . .
Officer Leon James slipped out the back door of the Quayside Oil Company, where he worked part-time as a security guard on the overnight shift. In his hand was a paper bag containing the cold meatball sub that he brought from home but had forgotten to eat. Instead, he’d spent his break dozing in an office chair, his chin nodding toward his chest . . .
She came up to me in the parking lot behind the Slung Rig after the show. The lot reeked of piss, puke, and exiled pizza scraps. Even the rats were too finicky to troll around this Hamden hole, where headbangers and punkers partied or balled inside their cars whenever there was a gig. Those who could get it on around this stench had a better constitution than me—that, or some sort of mutant fetish, but hell, that’s mutants for you . . .