“The Surrender” by John Jeremiah

I had talked myself into a luxurious three-bedroom apartment in a classic Tudor building in Jersey City. It was 1969. Back then, a suit and a little grooming would suffice if accompanied by a few months’ rent . . .

September Events in NYC!

Don’t miss Akashic authors in NYC this September! Click for information on individual events and on the Brooklyn Book Festival.

Joe Meno’s Introduction to Chicago Noir: The Classics

To celebrate the release of Chicago Noir: The Classics, the latest in Akashic’s Noir Series, we’re pleased to give you a look at the history of noir and crime writing in Chicago with editor Joe Meno’s introduction, “Language of Shadows.”

“Daddy Bats is Not Coming to Save You” by Justin Haynes

Daddy Bats lives with you in a one-bedroom flat in Belmont—until today. This morning, Daddy Bats flicks the cold from the corners of your eyes, and just after Radio Trinidad announces the day’s deaths, he marches you between lively trucks and horn-blowing super saloons up the hill to the orphanage.

“Don’t worry, son,” Daddy Bats says as he kneels before you. “Is only for a few days. Then I will save you . . .”

Joe Meno: Digit, sales, FREE e-book, and more!

Tender as Hellfire is available for absolutely FREE through our website through Monday, September 7! Click for more information, plus information on our Joe Meno Digit, a Nook Daily Find, and other e-book and print sales.

“Heliotrope.” by Jake Falls

I used to photograph the ruin. The historic Packard Plant had become my forty-acre inspiration in the heart of Detroit. What was once the grandest and most industrious automotive facility of the early twentieth century had corroded into a sprawling wasteland, and I captured it all through my camera lens . . .

“Guatemala Kill Pit” by Tom Leins

We drove as far as we could and abandoned the car when the gas ran out . . .

“El Silbón” by Montague Kobbé

It was all because of the squeal of the windshield wiper. Not the rumbling racket it made as it stammered back along the pane. No, that wasn’t so bad. But the squeal on the way down—shrill, insistent, bleak. Who could stand that shit? . . .