Is this you? As a journalist, you can create a free Muck Rack account to customize your profile, list your contact preferences, and upload a portfolio of your best work.
Claim your profile
Articles by M.E. Proctor
The Last One by Cory Flick
Ed steered his Cadillac into the motel parking lot, drifted easy between two lines. He stopped and switched off the engine, a low rumble lowering softly, smoothly, to silence. He looked around the lot. Just some sedans and trucks, all various stages of beater. This wasn’t a neighborhood drowning in money. Ed waited a moment longer. He saw no movement in the lot, heard nothing. He stepped out of the Caddy and eased the door closed with a quiet thunk.
“Empire” by Frank Vatel
“…for Jacob Nowak, who was given the promise of eternal life in Baptism…” Whenever a spider-man goes home to the lord, there’s always a prayer next day. Priest comes up the main shaft about seven-thirty and we all circle around. First time it happened, a kid named Tedesco, we paid our respects proper and solemn. Thinking it was a fluke he slipped on that scaffold. Thinking there wouldn’t be no more. Now it’s five and counting. Ozzy says the novelty’s worn off.
The Corpse Came in Person by Carlotta Dale
by Carlotta Dale Enough blood was in the sink to indicate a double homicide. Brushing my teeth was a dangerous occupation. The shit gums were inherited from my mother, who’d had dentures by the time she hit forty. I was headed in the same direction. No, the corpse was in the other room, and she wouldn’t shut up. The Angelus, located at Spring and Fourth in Downtown Los Angeles, still had the fancy portico, but was otherwise a dump. No frills. I didn’t miss ’em, and the rent was cheap.
Breaking Up is Hard to Do - by Carolyn Tillery
An enormous clock towers overhead, its wind turbine-like arms suspended in the present, marks my footfalls. I clutch the ticket in my sweating hand, fingers crushing the edges. Crowds push around me, people on their own journeys and writing their own stories. Or rewriting them. I lose ground as my future slips back into the present with every tick of the clock. Nothing will stop me from catching that train from the here and now. Crowds pour from the cattle-chute hallways into the main terminal.
Declan Shaw was born on Labor Day … in a manner of speaking
by M.E. Proctor I grew up reading crime books. Our house was full of them. Pulp and literature. Piles of paperbacks. Colorful covers or stark monochromes with hard typefaces that shouted Reader Beware. Good writing and bad, it didn’t matter, I read everything I could lay my hands on. It helps to have parents who are voracious readers. In retrospect, it’s baffling that it took me so long to write what I love so much to read.
Halloween Short Story: Wolf Cub
by M.E. Proctor First came the swipe of something wet and warm on my eyes. Then I felt a puff of hot air on my face. It stank of rotten meat. A low roar pressed against my eardrums, pushed against the inside of my skull. Pain came and erased everything, and I slipped down a pit where there was no feeling at all. When I came to, I had no idea how much time had passed. I opened my eyes to a gray-streaked darkness with clumps of solid black where the trees were bunched together.
The Eternal Wisdom (and Solid Common Sense) of Ray Bradbury
by M.E. Proctor I don’t know what’s more rampant on the web: writing advice or weight loss tips. They have common features. An authoritarian tone — Don’t do this! Do that ! — and a shine of expertise. I confess, I’m better at dismissing fad diets and miracle exercise routines than articles that pretend to help me write a killer first sentence. It’s no surprise that I’m always disappointed. If there was a foolproof trick, all scribblers would use it.
Footwork: Retro Noir Short Fiction By M.E. Proctor
M.E. Proctor, author of Footwork, is currently writing a series of contemporary detective novels. Her short stories have been published in Vautrin, Bristol Noir, Pulp Modern, Mystery Tribune, Reckon Review, Shotgun Honey and others. She lives in Livingston, Texas. Mystery Tribune has previously published Family and Other Ailments and In Chains from the author. ***** The waitress, Gina—the name was embroidered in red in flowing cursive on her breast pocket—slid the photograph on the counter.
PUNK NOIR MAGAZINE - Punk Noir Press
Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas to all you Punk Noiristas out in the world today and welcome to Issue 3 of PUNK NOIR’s twisted little series of one punch knock outs that have thus far rendered many readers punch drunk and deliciously disorientated. Yep, today’s flurry of punches is truly a great gift from good old Saint Nick so please do enjoy, as it may be the last. Featuring: Zachary Wilhide, Terena Elizabeth Bell, Nathan Pettigrew, Dr. John A. Tures, William Draycott, David M.
A Path Taken by M.E. Proctor
Lisa I’m walking home from school. The chestnut trees by the railroad track are in bloom. The smell of the flowers is strong, very sweet, almost too sweet. The birds chatter busily but I can’t see them. As I take the turn after the bridge, I have a full view of the valley with the cemetery behind the low wall in front of me, sloping down, row after row of gray monuments. The massive ones that look like Greek temples are closest to me, on top of the hill.
In Chains: Police Procedural Short Fiction By M.E. Proctor
M.E. Proctor, author of In Chains, has previously published short fiction in Vautrin, Bristol Noir, Pulp Modern, The Bookends Review, Shotgun Honey and others. She lives in Livingston, Texas. Mystery Tribune has previously published Family and Other Ailments from the author. ***** “What’s that kid doing here all the time?” Tom Keegan said. “Delivering lunch.” Al “Matt” Matteotti reached for his wallet. “You can set your watch by the boy.” Tom grabbed a stack of files and dropped them in a drawer.
Swedish Action Thriller Film "Black Crab" Coming To Netflix
Swedish action thriller Black Crab, directed by Adam Berg, is coming to Netflix in March 2022, the streaming services company announced. Black Crab is a Swedish action thriller set in a post-apocalyptic world torn apart by war. During a long, harsh winter, six soldiers embark on a covert mission across a frozen archipelago, risking their lives to transport a mysterious package that could end the war.
A Head for Numbers
Sam Carranza wasn’t at the San Bernard library to escape the heat or read the papers. He was looking for a man. Sam had a picture, taken years earlier. It showed a spry sixty-something with a mop of white hair and clear blue eyes. Thadée Molyneux would have been a good fit for the elderly set that perused publications in the library lounge, but he wasn’t among them. Molyneux had dementia. He absconded from the retirement home where Bella, his daughter, had put him.
Texas Two-Step
The night is so quiet that I can hear the crackle of Danny’s cigarette when he takes a drag. He’s outside the barn, leaning on the splintered boards and I’m inside, in the murky smelly darkness. The light on my phone shows what surrounds me. The rusty tools hanging from nails and the ghostly old tractors don’t trouble me as much as the skittering furry shapes at the edge of the light.
Show More
loading
Actions
Is this you?
As a journalist, you can create a free Muck Rack account to customize your profile, list your contact preferences, and upload a portfolio of your best work.Get in touch with M.E.
Contact M.E., search articles and posts on X, monitor coverage, and track replies from one place.
Learn more about Muck Rack