Mami warned me to stay out of the gutter. Too late!

The latest issue of Out of the Gutter is out in paperback, and I’ve got a story in it. It’s called “To Mistress,” and,  it may best be described as BDSM noir. It was a small idea I’d had for a while, but I was inspired to finish it after reading about the murder of Brittany Killgore, which exposed a local bondage community to unwanted attention.

Out of the Gutter 8 contains “the most popular pieces posted this year at Out of the Gutter Online, as well as the editors’ personal favorites and several brand new stories with a digital age theme, written just for this issue. With the material separated into flash fiction and longer pieces, Out of the Gutter remains the perfect companion when you’re on the go and looking for a fast, cheap thrill.”

Edited by Matthew Louis, Joe Clifford, and Court Merrigan, the issue also contains stories by: Nicola Murphy, David Corbett, Les Edgerton, Matthew C Funk, Jen Conley,  Ryan TheWalnuts Sayles, Isaac Kirkman, Mike Monson, and David James Keaton. The book is also available for Kindle.

Check out this excerpt from my story:

To Mistress
I did this for you because you would have made me do it.
      On December 5, you were found dead in your home. It was on the news, a picture of you smiling over a birthday cake. “Mom of 3 Bludgeoned to Death.” I recognized your face. “Donna Hornak.” That was your name. A pretty name, almost musical.
      Don’t worry — I will never say it out loud.
      Someone broke in and beat your skull open. Nothing was stolen. You were divorced. The police suspected your ex-husband. But he was two states away with your kids. So far there are no other suspects.
      In the kitchen last night, my wife said to me, “Manuel, you still haven’t told me where you want to go for the holidays. My mother’s on my back.”
      “Yes,” I said. “What’s wrong with you? We have to tell her soon.”
      I went to the basement, and Mayra called after me, “And we have to finish the Christmas list.”
      I locked the door, turned on the computer, and looked at pictures you took of me. Gagged. Hooded. Tied. You weren’t in any of the photographs but you held the camera.
      I waited until the wife turned the TV on before taking down my pants.