D. A. Ratliff
Bio
A Southerner with saltwater in her veins, Deborah lives in the Florida sun and writes murder mysteries. She is published in several anthologies and her first novel, Crescent City Lies, is scheduled for release in 2024.
Stories (73/0)
Courier to Paris
Courier to Paris D. A. Ratliff I leaned against a storefront, its awning shielding me from the heavy snowfall, my eyes glued to the antique bookshop across the street. In the warmly lit interior, an older man stood behind a counter talking to a younger woman. The man slipped three books into a kraft paper shopping bag and handed it to her. She nodded and left the shop.
By D. A. Ratliff4 months ago in Fiction
Flowers for Her
Flowers for Her D. A. Ratliff A Detective Elijah Boone Mystery I came home to an unexpected vase of flowers, and my hands trembled as I opened the attached note. This wasn’t the first time that flowers had arrived at my door. Each time I received flowers, another young woman died.
By D. A. Ratliff4 months ago in Fiction
Danny Boy
Danny Boy D. A. Ratliff Westward Ho! I chuckled. As a boy, having watched American cowboy shows on television, I loved to go to the westernmost tip of England, look toward America, and yell those two words, convinced that someday I would go westward to America.
By D. A. Ratliff5 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - January 2024
The Dowager’s PearlsTop Story - January 2024
The Dowager’s Pearls D. A. Ratliff A Detective Elijah Boone Mystery She preferred everyone to call her Dowager Estelle Montmorency, a title befitting her status, at least in her mind, as New Orleans nobility. As of this morning, however, she would be known as the late Dowager Montmorency. A blow to the back of her skull changed her status rather quickly.
By D. A. Ratliff5 months ago in Fiction
The Tool
The Tool D. A. Ratliff “Twas the night before Christmas, my ass. More like the nightmare before Christmas,” Jason Bartow lamented softly to himself to not wake anyone. He sat cross-legged on the living room floor, bits and pieces of toys and an unassembled bicycle spread across the floor. Dropping his head in his hands, he sighed. “My kingdom for a screwdriver.”
By D. A. Ratliff5 months ago in Fiction
Flames in the Fire
The Fireplace D. A. Ratliff No one ever claimed that Burlington, Vermont, wasn’t cold in the winter. I can attest to that. Three days before Christmas, the temperature was downright frigid. Temptation almost got the better of me, but I resisted bolting onto the plane to return to Los Angeles. It was downright balmy there.
By D. A. Ratliff5 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - December 2023
The Wizard of the North
Wizard of the North D.A. Ratliff Wizard Nicolus took a deep draw of his long pipe, savoring the taste of the smokeweed packed into the bowl. He blew out a smoke ring and watched as it dissipated in the cool air, scattering the small group of Woodland Fairies flitting about the trees. One more puff on this pipe, and he turned to continue down the narrow path next to the flowing stream.
By D. A. Ratliff6 months ago in Fiction
T - Minus Zero
T – Minus Zero D. A. Ratliff A muffled rumble reached his ears as the deck beneath him trembled. Eric Chandler paused to take a shallow breath, then continued his task, as there was no time to worry about the increasing frequency of the strikes. The defense shield will have to do its job. There was much to do.
By D. A. Ratliff6 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - November 2023
Twas the Night Before ThanksgivingTop Story - November 2023
Twas the Night Before Thanksgiving D. A. Ratliff I came from a family of foodies. No, not those who loved a delicate soufflé, a creamy risotto, Beef Wellington, or a classic French pastry, but those who loved food—simple, well-cooked food. Any occasion in my grandmother’s Appalachian Mountain home involved food. My Granny Stella always kept a pot of beef stew, chicken and dumplings, or vegetable soup on the stove in case someone stopped by for a spell.
By D. A. Ratliff6 months ago in Families