A California Magazine with Local Focus and Global Appeal:
Community - Entertainment - Human Interest


Weekly issues every Saturday morning and other special articles throughout the week — there's something for everyone. Check out our sister sites Kings River Lite and KRL News & Reviews for bonus articles.


Terrific Tales

by Joan Leotta


I hate turkey. So, it is easy to understand why Thanksgiving’s meal is not my favorite. The idea of giving thanks for bounty is great. I simply do not see the point in overstuffing one’s self with dry turkey meat and stale bread stuffing along with cranberry juice reduced to a can-shaped gelatin.

{ 6 comments }

by Kaye George


I was swinging on a star in the summer of 1948. I was in Hollywood, greatest city on the planet. I was engaged to Tyrone Rivers, the handsomest rising star of the silver screen there ever was. And we had an appointment in a few days to look at a little bungalow we might want to rent after we got hitched.

{ 5 comments }

by Gary Hoffman


I could always find a million reasons never to attend funerals, but when Chuck Temple was shot and killed, they all went to hell. He and I actually went back to Elementary School #34 in Pittsburg. My family had moved there so my dad could find a job. In a quirk of fate, Chuck started the third grade there on the same day and for the same reason. We’d been tight since then.

{ 1 comment }

Cactus Flower: A Fantasy Short Story

IN THE October 28 ISSUE

FROM THE 2017 Articles,
andFantasy & Fangs,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by V.S. Kemanis



ROY SAT ON his haunches squinting up at the clouds, thick and white as whipped cream piled high on a glass plate. His nostrils sucked dust and the air pulled moisture from his eyes before it could surface.

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by Daryl Wood Gerber



“Ayiii!” Jenna stamped her foot and flicked the Hello Kitty pillow she got for Christmas six years ago across the room. Why was “I’ll Never Break Your Heart” playing on the radio? Didn’t the disc jockey know that Denny Henderson had dumped Jenna for Lili Littlefield today? Didn’t the DJ know that Jenna was at home, alone, on her birthday? Her parents took her brother and sister out to dinner on this chilly spring night because they thought Denny was taking Jenna for a burger and milkshake to celebrate. As if.

{ 2 comments }

by Barbara Schlichting



My Jingle Dancer figurine was missing!
From the moment I walked into my store I knew something was wrong. I had a small collection of small, antique dolls with historic and cultural significance. Now my collection of figurines arrayed on the glass shelf in the window, was smaller by one, my Jingle Dancer.

{ 1 comment }

by Katherine Fast


Grabbing as much as his pudgy hands could hold, Butch raised the treasure high in the air over his squatting figure and released a cascade of multi-colored objects that flashed like sparklers in the moonlight before lightly thudding on the forest floor.

{ 3 comments }

by Denise Johnson


“I hate working this shift.” Kim snapped the gum in her mouth as she slammed the door on the SUV.
Quite the parking job,” Nick always busted her chops, especially when it came to driving.
The two plain clothes detectives made their way across the quiet, suburban street to where a dead body lay.

{ 2 comments }

by Guy Belleranti


Roy heard his wife even before she burst into his writing room. Though Elaine padded about either in slippers or barefoot, the floorboards still creaked whenever she ascended the stairs of the old house. Noises…always shattering his concentration.

{ 5 comments }

by Margaret S. Hamilton


As Lizzie Christopher and her husband, Nick Cameron, stood at the entrance to a Halloween party, a man grabbed her arm. His eyes and nose were obscured by a small mask.

{ 2 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


I’m baaaaaaaaack. Not much to brag about though.
Here I am lying on the train tracks in a dark, dreary NYC subway tunnel under Grand Central Station. Just hit by a speeding train, my body is bloody and battered. Ouch!

{ 5 comments }

Fatal Flaw: Mystery Short Story

IN THE September 23 ISSUE

FROM THE 2017 Articles,
andMysteryrat's Maze,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by Cathi Stoler


A FEW FATES are worse than death. I should know. I’m living one right now. In a secluded villa high in the hills somewhere in the Czech Republic. A place where no one will ever find me should anyone care to look.

{ 3 comments }

High Anxiety: Mystery Short Story

IN THE September 9 ISSUE

FROM THE 2017 Articles,
andMysteryrat's Maze,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by John M. Floyd


Joe McClellan led a simple life. He had a wife, two kids, a mortgage, a respectable job, and very few complications. No excitement, no mystery, no oddities. At least until now.

{ 6 comments }

The Fat Man: Mystery Short Story

IN THE August 26 ISSUE

FROM THE 2017 Articles,
andMysteryrat's Maze,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by Patricia Della Valle


The big black Mercedes was entering the town of Fitzville. It was preceded by the sounds of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. The townspeople recognized the car and its musical horn and watched as it stopped in front of the Cigar Emporium. A tall, fat man emerged. He walked through the front door of the shop and soon reappeared, a chubby Cuban cigar in his mouth. He blew out a cloud of smoke and waved to the people. The man was a private detective often called by the Fitzville police when a major crime took place. His name was Eugene Oregon.

{ 2 comments }

by Michael Bracken


When Buck Johnson rolled out of bed and his feet slapped against the cold hardwood floor, his thoughts weren’t on that day’s scheduled train robbery. Instead, he concentrated on leaving the bedroom without waking his wife, who was snuggled warmly on the far side of the bed.

{ 3 comments }

by Guy Belleranti


Sheriff Estelle Moon finished her inspection of Laura Taylor’s bedroom window. “No sign of forced entry. You sure it was locked?”
“I thought so,” the attractive sixtyish woman said. “But it was wide open when I returned home, and my jewelry was gone. So was my lovely music box.” She wiped away a tear.

{ 2 comments }

by Judy Penz Sheluk


The water in Georgian Bay is chilly, even in the middle of July. In late May, it was downright frosty, but that didn’t stop the dozen or so members of the Cycopath Triathlon Team from diving right in. All but one, a finely muscled woman named Cherry, wore long-sleeved neoprene wetsuits. Cherry went sleeveless.

{ 9 comments }

by Larry W. Chavis


“Think Hubby Dear would enjoy this? Let’s find out. Or–let’s talk. I’ll be in touch.”
Shelby let the slip of paper slide from her fingers to fall on the photograph it had accompanied inside a large, manila envelope, the photograph showing her and Marcus Rivers in flagrante delicto.

{ 12 comments }

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