KIERAN SHEA’s fiction has appeared in dozens of venues including Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Thuglit, Dogmatika, Word Riot, Plots with Guns, Beat to a Pulp, Crimefactory, and Needle: A Magazine of Noir well as in some beefy-looking anthologies most of which will make you question the tether of his shiny, red balloon. To his self-deprecating astonishment he's also been nominated for the Story South’s Million Writers Award twice without sending the judges so much as a thank you note. He co-edited the satiric transgressive fiction collection D*CKED: DARK FICTION INSPIRED BY DICK CHENEY and his debut novel KOKO TAKES A HOLIDAY is out now from Titan Books. Kieran divides his time between 38°58′22.6″N- 76°30′4.17″W and 39.2775° N, 74.5750° W.



Wow. Haven't posted since freakin' when? November? Really? Not that it matters much, my shouting into the void. Became a bit droll to be honest and more than a little self-aggrandizing, but then again I'm my own worst critic. Put the brakes on back in the late Fall because I was trying to man-up and finish my second stab and fifth pass at a novel involving eye-gouging mercenaries, hijacked septic airships, and televised mass suicides. The whole process fried me plenty that's for sure. The manuscript will probably end up in the zero anyway, but I keep telling's all part of the process, it's all part of the process.... but damn it, sometimes I swear it feels like I'm adrift at sea. Then came the holidays, some travel, assorted dark-tinted obligations, illnesses, and then (no complaints) a trip to ol' Mexico. Take it from me, that Mayan 2012 stuff? People who believe that jive are certifiably crackers. Now I'm back. Plan on posting on this blog more often, I just lost the rhythm there for a bit and it's like warming up a temperamental engine. Have a Twist-of-Noir story here and the good conspiring minds over at NEEDLE MAGAZINE accepted a 5K-er from me about bad football bets. The staggering triple threat talent John Hornor Jacobs even jazzed me up a bit on the cover (thanks, squire...I owe you a basket of gravy fries and a Jack n' Coke). Yeah, it's a Charlie Byrne story and I know I swore off Charlie Byrne stories, but it's been over a year since I went cold turkey on that front so cut me a break. Drafting a Charlie story featuring his cat Chomsky, bad Italian food, and mister down and out going toe to toe with some nasty biz gone awry got some of the kinks out. Been reading tons of great stuff. Want names? Gorman, Blackmoore, McBride, Shaw, Banks, Inglsey, Currie, Brewer, Pollock, early Gischler doing his Kolchak the Night Stalker schtick, Duncan, Weddle, Leonard, Randisi, and even the Warrren Zevon biography that is simply beyond horrifying and should scare anyone into Thomas Merton-like sobriety. Lots more reading in the cue of course. Can't wait for Chris Holm's DEAD HARVEST that's for damn sure because his writing is just ridiculously good. As for my own stuff I'm beginning a political sort of yarn that I hope will run away from me and become a longer (dare I say it) novel. Who knows? I may change my mind tomorrow. Got to keep at it, right? Stranger things have happened, like the NY Giants actually making it to the Super Bowl. Onward.