Martin M. Clark
Martin M. Clark is a freelance writer and occasional poet.
He is the author of supernatural noir novellas formally produced by Eggplant Literary Productions (now sadly defunct) and short stories in Third Flatiron anthologies. He also contributes to several online publications including Mythaxis.co.uk, Timelesstales.com and Kraxon.com. His range of subject matter includes science fiction, urban fantasy, romance and westerns. He puts this down to the somewhat eclectic mobile lending library where he grew up.
He works as a local government officer in south-west Scotland but still finds time to be an evil stepfather.
In the forest it was late Summer: the path a dancing dapple of sunlight amidst birdsong and the background rustle of leaves. In the forest it was always late Summer. Unvisited by other seasons, the great belt of the Greenswathe encircled Garth, last city of High Men within the Circle … Continue reading
I spotted all four members of the snatch squad before they made their move: the pseudo-couple by the door plus two supposed delivery drivers bellying up to the long counter in Stans Cafe (no apostrophe). I guess minimising civilian casualties was still a consideration, but they gave the game away … Continue reading
“I’m given to understand you’re a buttonhead, Mister Reynolds.” Ryan sat back and sipped his drink. “Show me. I believe I’ve paid for the privilege.” We were in the Adventure Capitalist, a bar dating back to when we still had an economy. The corner booth was a wood-panelled cocoon, designed … Continue reading
“Please, gentlemen, make yourself comfortable.” I polarised the windows against the glare of a SoCal summer as they took their seats. My two visitors were the proverbial ‘odd couple’: Air Force General Branning looked uncomfortable just being out of uniform while his aide, Major Cain, would probably have remained cool, … Continue reading
I tuned back in as Director Hobson came to the end of his welcome for the new interns. I’d heard his spiel numerous times before – he liked to have me there as an example of how agents could make multiple trips through the vortex and suffer no ill-effects. Yeah, … Continue reading
“You know they call us body-snatchers?” I flicked my gaze to the rear-view mirror then back to the street ahead. I hadn’t driven for Elaine Grey before but it was obvious she needed reassurance. “As long as they stick to just name-calling, Miss, then everything will be fine.” She twisted … Continue reading
“Be cool, man, everything is just… peachy.” Harry Hale sank back into a drug-and-booze torpor. Peachy? Not with a dead teenage girl lying on the floor of his hotel suite. Harry was the vocalist with Harry and The High, a psychotropic rock band. I don’t like working with musicians at … Continue reading
The doors closed with a whine of servos and that heavy clunk particular to armour plate. My visitor was a man of medium height with a friendly, open face, seemingly devoid of guile. He smiled. “Good evening Mister Ghent. My name is Peter Anders. I’m the designated hostage negotiator, and … Continue reading
“Are you by nature a religious man, Technician Brandt?” I looked up from my diagnostics pad at the anthropomorphic bust of Leon Hurst, former CEO of Temple Pharmaceuticals. “Religious, sir? Not really; not beyond a general belief in a higher power.” It smiled. “Quite the Masonic answer. Furthermore I cannot … Continue reading
“Please take a seat, McMaster.” I sat across the desk from Director Haining, unbuttoning my jacket so that the Glock didn’t snag on the lining. The only source of illumination in his office was the desk lamp. Haining obviously thought the down-lighter made him look serious and brooding, whereas all … Continue reading