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The Last Winter of 2000
Beginnings are impossible. I’ve been starting the author game for 20-plus years. It rarely appears as work in progress. Fits and starts. That’s my record. Fits lead to starts/restarts lead to fits, ad nauseam. Time to stop beginning and advance. Accept my invitation…
MGC Chapter Fifty-Two
Twist of Finality Ollie navigated the winding mountain return trip with greater caution. Heavy snowfall had transformed the landscape into a slick and treacherous winter wonderland. The Jeep’s wheels crunched and bumped over frozen terrain, a melancholy soundtrack…
MGC Chapter Fifty-One
Ksanka Showdown We found the cave opening with the blizzard raging full tilt. An expanse of slate-gray sky blended seamlessly with the frigid landscape making visibility brief and erratic. A gust shoved Tony and I in an arc, past Ollie to avoid toppling us all like…
MGC Chapter Fifty
Climb Ollie’s historic Willys Jeep turned out a better choice than my Tacoma. Renée had been freed and waltzed out the door with Vicky into a dangerous mountain storm. I didn’t want to waste time arguing over driving options. The well-kept artifact had the look and…
MGC Chapter Forty-Nine
Ksanka Dreams “Maybe we go in easy on this,” Tony said, as he followed me through the picket fence and past the Matchbox sales lot. “We don’t have enough time for that,” I replied. My thoughts were fully on catching Lorna off guard with a wild allegation, in hopes of…
MGC Chapter Forty-Eight
Kayla Bait I crossed the threshold into the diner into a permeating chill. Warmth and coziness had been swapped with cool mistrust. Aromas of fried food made the air thick with an odor of cruelty. Vacant stools and booths were devoid of the cackle and mirth that…
MGC Chapter Forty-Seven
Pass Renée Vicky’s arguments banged around in my head, busting up logic and reason, until they jolted loose a plan to visit my sister at the jail. Tony climbed into the Tacoma and curled his lips into a rueful smile. “Great idea,” he said with a snort, “if you can…
MGC Chapter Forty-Six
Clash of Lies I dozed, with the Tacoma idling, in front of Lorna’s house. Dim lights from the dashboard gave the interior of the truck an enchanting glow. Widely separated street lamps spilled diffused, yellow light onto the cracked pavement, and the moon winked from…
MGC Chapter Forty-Five
Jenkins’ Secret Deal I grabbed Tony’s coat sleeve, making sure he didn’t tag along with the Lincoln County boys. The Sheriff’s body heat was almost tangible, and I wanted no part of a trek into the woods with him. Tony shook his head at me, but acquiesced. “Gerulis,”…
MGC Chapter Forty-Four
Sheriff Shudders The Sheriff arrived in a fit, caterpillar mustache bouncing with frenetic energy. He barked madly at the air. A kaleidoscope pulse of emergency lights punctuated his outbursts, provoking an atmosphere of hysteria. “What the hell did you do, Pierce?…

Mark Wm Smith
An overeducated, blue-collar cowboy, I grew up on along the banks of the Yellowstone River in Eastern Montana. Raised by a long haul trucker and a bartending waitress, I learned the hard ways of the modern frontier, scraping life from the unforgiving high chaparral.
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