Get In Touch
For Inquiries
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.
My Writing Blog
Follow Along
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 Thirty-Three
I spent a few minutes cooling my jets in the Tacoma, watching shadows float to and fro behind the living room window. Lorna’s demeanor bothered me. The way she'd dismissed Kayla’s trauma, hawking over her like a jail guard. What did she fear? The custody battle was...
MGC Chapter Thirty-Two
Kayla played in the yard alone. She glanced up as I entered the gate. With bloodshot eyes scuttled in sleep-deprived eye sockets, I must have appeared demonic. Yesterday’s rumpled clothes surely didn’t improve my image. The previous night’s discovery kept me from...
MGC Chapter Thirty-One
I made sure we were out of the line of sight before making a U-turn. “There has to be something in that house that will implicate someone besides my sister.” Tony shook his head. “They’ll sure as shootin’ go through the place as part of their investigation into the...