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Blood Runs Thicker Than Truth by Katy Abel

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When a minister runs over one of her parishioners in her car, she is asked to face some difficult truths. Image generated with OpenAI The sky was as dark as a good cabernet and yes, she had been drinking. Not drinking like a fish but swimming through the kitchen after dinner, warm from the wine brought by members of the board who knew her penchant for a merlot with cherry undertones. Afterwards, guests departed, bottles open-mouthed and waiting, she had paused as if there was an actual decision to be made about whether to pour the remnants down the drain. Tossing the question instead of the wine, she drank while gathering plates and goblets and wiping counters. Then she turned off the lights to get ready to head up to the church. It was a ritual everyone enjoyed; dinner at the minister's house followed by the quarterly board meeting in the parish house. The dinner had gone well, Sarah thought. Moroccan chicken, a heaping platter of saffron rice studded with pistachios...
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Ruin by Joe Kilgore

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Proud American trucker Earl Bishop takes on a new cattle hauling contract that is destined to change his life. Image generated with OpenAI Heat waves shimmied atop the asphalt ribbon like minnows darting in a pond. Outside the temperature topped a hundred, but inside the Kenworth W990, seventy-two degrees kept Earl cool as that proverbial cucumber you hear so much about. For certain men, there's something special about guiding a five hundred horse power engine over barren blacktop for mile after mile of endless highway. Earl Bishop was one of those men. Long haul truck driving was the apex of his ambitions since he was old enough to have any. And sure, it had taken a number of starts and stops for him to reach his goal. From farm worker to construction crew, oilfield roustabout to roughneck, spot welder to pipe fitter, Earl kept enough meat on the bone and money in the bank to eventually make a down payment on the eighteen-wheeler he had always wanted, and now he was li...
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Polarity by Scott Craven

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A stranger asks to see a suburban dad's luxury car, and he is hard to refuse. Image generated with OpenAI When Carl scissors open the blinds, the Saturday morning sun reveals more than the weather; a man stands at the end of the driveway, motionless. "What the..." he mumbles, instinctively narrowing the slats. The man, unlike the usual cast of dog walkers out this early, simply stares. Into Carl's garage. "Hon, you expecting someone?" he calls to Andrea in the kitchen, where the scent of toaster waffles fills the air. "Yes, my other husband, the one who knows when to take out the trash without being nagged," she replies with familiar sarcasm. Carl smiles, the blinds snapping shut as he follows the familiar aroma. He kisses Andrea's neck, the mood broken when Brianna hops on the stool with a loud, "Are they done yet, I'm hungry." Her younger brother D'Angelo is right behind. "Why do you ask?" A...
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