The Simple Art of Action (Volume 1, Issue 1): Sideway Crimes

By Mike Whitacre

Action is more than a verb, and in these hard-boiled stories, the heroes have the grit to prove it. THE SIMPLE ART OF ACTION goes into each issue with a handful of quick tales that leave an impact. The first issue is bound to leave a lasting impression with its gritty heroes and its intensely-crafted scenes. Some characters are reoccurring, others try not to over, but no story overstays its welcome as it leaves its mark. Welcome to THE SIMPLE ART OF ACTION (VOLUME 1, ISSUE 1): SIDEWAY CRIMES. Five stories giving you well-aimed entertainment, if you can take the heat...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Whitacre
• Release date: Jan 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215390672

Mike Whitacre

A fiction writer, carving his own gruesome path through his work. He often mixes genres, but is primarily interested in the Crime/Mystery genre that utilizes the style of hard-boiled writers like Raymond Chandler. He lives in California, making too many damnable mistakes.

Book preview

The Simple Art Of Action

(Volume 1, Issue 1):

Sideway Crimes

By

Mike Whitacre

The Simple Art Of Action

(Series)

The Simple Art Of Action (Volume 1, Issue 1):

Sideway Crimes

Mike Whitacre

Copyright 2022 by Mike Whitacre

Smashwords Edition

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Table Of Contents

Nightmarish Niceties

The Man Who Had A Gun

Vicious Victims

Microscopic Sins

Cynical Censors

Author Info

Nightmarish Niceties

By

Mike Whitacre

I felt the buckle from the recoil.

My ears were ringing as smoke seethed out from the barrel of my gun, but the sound of the gunshot nearly eluded me, the way the sound of a soft breeze can elude me on a calm day. Standing over the dead man I just shot, I waited until I could hear anything significant. All I got was the quiet of the city, a deluge of noises scraping together the way metal scrapes against metal.

Nary a scream or a siren amongst them.

Door was open, leading to the back of the building. I kicked it to get a better view inside then waited to see if anyone was willing to check on their comrade. Guess they were too busy to think the back entrance needed to be heavily guarded.

Walking in I popped out the cylinder of my revolver, took out the empty shell, and replaced the chamber with a fresh bullet. Clicking the cylinder back in place, I quietly made my way through a dim lit room with dusty shelves full of hardware and tools used for unseen handiwork.

Just as I was about to be