The “Unravel: A Crime MicroFiction Anthology” Arrives On My Kindle Fire

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© James Pyles

Yes, it’s here and I offer photographic proof. I received the book in several digital formats and installed “Unravel” via email this morning. I did get a strange email from Amazon asking me if I wanted to do this and giving my 48 hours to respond. That’s never happened before. Of course, I approved it and BAM! I have another book.

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UNRAVEL: A Crime Microfiction Anthology is Available Now!

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Cover image for the Black Hare Press crime drabble anthology “Unravel.”

My “drabble” or exactly 100 word short tale “Death Visits Mexico” was just published by Black Hare Press and is available in Unravel: A Crime Microfiction Anthology on Amazon. The theme for the “Unravel” anthology was dark, criminal mysteries, and so I took a tale I’d crafted a few years back and re-edited it to meet the publishing requirements. It’s historical fiction set in 1947 where Jewish private detective Moshe Katz is about to deliver justice to a war criminal in a particularly dramatic way.

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The Haunted Detective

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San Francisco Chronicle Archives – From the back of the photo: “F Car goes through – The two months long blockade of the Fourth and Market intersection ended completely yesterday morning as F cars moved from Fourth Street across Market into Stockton. While police officers experimented with the new traffic pattern at the complex five-way intersection, workmen rolled down the last of the fill in the project. City officials hope the revised schedule will end one or more downtown bottlenecks.” September 9, 1947.

“I keep telling you this, Marguerite, but you never listen. You are just as breakable as the next person, maybe more so given your line of work.”

Private Investigator Margurite Carter was getting sick and tired of Cohen’s lectures. “Do I tell you how to stitch a cut, Sawbones? Just do your job. I haven’t got all night for you to fix up my broken wing. And what’s that crack about me being more breakable? I’m as tough as any guy in the business.”

“Tell that to your broken arm. It’s a good thing you’re left-handed. From the way you described the thug who jumped you, he must have had a hundred pounds on you. By the way, the name’s Dr. Cohen or Joel, not Sawbones.” The fatherly doctor tightened the binding a little too much on his thirty-year-old mouthy patient just to make his point.

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