Jake Lane

Joined June 2021

6 stories

Bio

I'm from Wichita, KS. I've published one novel, CLOSURE, and the SS collection TWISTED TALES. My second novel is coming soon, along with TWISTED TALES TWO.

Stories (6)

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The Whippoorwill
“The time is nine to nil,” Sings the whippoorwill Who sits at Doomsday’s door.
By Jake Laneabout a year ago in Poets
Last Man Standing
LAST MAN STANDING The flags that marked the greens of the Rattlesnake Hills country club hung dead still on the morning of June 20, 2064. A bloated, reddish-orange sun was just beginning to rise over the gorgeous and remote course, lighting up the trees and prairie grass like a wildfire. The nineteen participants of the “Last Man Standing” tournament had arrived and were beginning to warm up on the practice green and the range. There was much anxiety in the air, and you could almost cut through the tension with your putter blade.
By Jake Lane4 years ago in Fiction
THE PUZZLE BOX (condensed version)
Joe Mackey (“Mack” to close friends and associates), head city councilman and former city district attorney, was first into the spa, followed shortly thereafter by fellow councilman Allen Bernard. The two had just finished up a grueling tennis match, which Mackey won in two sets, and now it was time to recoup a bit before heading back to the city building for a pair of afternoon meetings.
By Jake Lane4 years ago in Horror
UNCLE TOM
UNCLE TOM July fourth, 1999. I still remember that day like it was yesterday, and I will never forget it. I was twelve years old at the time. My little brother, Sam, was ten. The two of us had been out all day raisin' hell – blasting the neighbor kids with Roman Candles, shooting bottle rockets at old ladies as they were sittin' on their porches, and blowin' up bugs, toads, and stray cats with M80's we'd nabbed after discovering the old man's secret stash (which he thought was out of reach on the top shelf) in the garage.
By Jake Lane4 years ago in Fiction
THE RIDE
THE RIDE Tommy grabbed the backpack full of dope and headed out the door. His apartment was on the second floor, so he had to walk along a narrow landing before descending down the stairs. As he made his way across the landing, he noticed his cab had not arrived yet. With a sigh, he slowed his pace. Tonight's driver was running late, and that bugged him. Not that it was unusual for cab drivers to run late in this city. No, cab drivers were no different here than anywhere else. It bugged him because he was something of a frequent flier around here, a member of the Mega Miles Club. And he tipped big, because he always carried around fat stacks of cash. If that didn't make him a goddamned VIP, then what did?
By Jake Lane5 years ago in Fiction
DALTON'S LAST GIG
DALTON'S LAST GIG It was a seven block walk from Dalton's motel room to the hospital. Seven blocks standing between himself and the man he was going to kill. Seven blocks from $100,000 cash. A nice chunk of change, especially for a man fresh out of prison with nothing but the clothes on his back and an old debt to settle.
By Jake Lane5 years ago in Fiction

Jake Lane

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The Whippoorwill

Last Man Standing

THE PUZZLE BOX (condensed version)

UNCLE TOM

THE RIDE

DALTON'S LAST GIG

Stories (6)