About This Book
INTRODUCTION When I eased my black '65 Lincoln Continental up to the curb outside James Ward Kirk's House of Horrors I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I mean, this was the man behind the Indiana Horror and Indiana Science Fiction anthologies, with a pretty solid reputation for scaring the hell out of readers. Nevertheless, I rolled down the window and asked him if he'd like to go on a little road trip for some literary larceny. He stared at me with hard eyes, piled in next to me, and said, "Drive it like you stole it." Thus, we set out across the Hoosier state in search of authors with compelling crime stories from the heart of the Midwest. From the beginning, we were confident there was a huge cache of untapped talent out there. All we had to do was find it. Well, we slammed our pick-axe deep into the Indiana hard-pack and uprooted a huge clump of them. Along the way, we encountered a dealer of antiquities, a claw hammer killer, a soap factory with a secret formula, a pair of not-so-happily married newlyweds and a human smorgasbord of shooters, dealers and squealers. We were even propositioned by a hooker named Wiggles. A few times, we had to stand on the Lincoln's skinny loud pedal and head for the hills. More often than not, we hit the brakes, kicked open the suicide door, gave ‘em the old chin nod, and beckoned them to join the party. At the heart of any good story is its creator. Our line-up includes a talented group of authors who provided an eclectic mix of crime fiction sure to please even the most discerning of readers. Some of the names you will recognize; many you won't but will soon enough. Still, each story speaks for itself and these stories speak loudly. I invite you to take a tour with us through the Hoosier state presented in Indiana Crime. While there, cruise down a peaceful stretch of two-lane, get out, stretch your legs and get a lung full of fresh, country air. But if you get a whiff of anhydrous and bleach, spot a pair of blood-soaked underwear dangling from a fence post, or spot some strange lights in the northern sky, pile back in your car, fire that mother up and drive. Drive far, drive fast, but drive. Murphy Edwards
