Dive into a romantic Hollywood mystery for Valentine’s: “Did they know about The Buccaneers?” “It’s a sex club, Ms. Brown.” “You said it was an after-hours club.” “Good, you’re paying attention.” He made a pyramid of his hands, tapped his fingertips against his lips, thought for a moment, then pushed…
Tag: #abookatbedtime
Feel like dancing? James Johnson loved Manhattan. He loved Juilliard. Most of all he loved shedding all the tiresome, uncool parental pressure, but not his monthly allowance, which he supplemented with a hefty income dealing pot and coke to his like-minded artistic classmates. His best customers tended to be kids…
“Just take a breath,” said Shamari, dipping a hand into her Prada bag, her entire arm like a dowser’s wand dragged toward a source of water. There appeared an expression of almost religious fervor as she found what she sought in its capacious depths. After a moment she withdrew her…
Friends and family to the east, stay warm, stay safe, and let us entertain you with a Hollywood novel, served up weird, witty, and with a twist…
“Is what a big deal?” he countered, chewing on his pipe stem. “An agent being on set.” “Let’s just say there’s always a natural antagonism between management types and creative types. Your father would call it something else, but we’ll call it a natural antagonism.”
If you want to know the truth, just about every novel written — on some level — is a roman à clef. You may think you’re writing noir fiction, or something picaresque, but in the end everything you type is informed by your perception of the world. In the broadest…
“Regarding his dilated pupils, and distraught expression with apprehension, she realized he had asked ‘Why?’ in tones so deeply afflicted, so heart-torn, so wounded, she couldn’t, at first, discern the meaning.” “Above it all, she is, a veritable hermit now, up in the canyons. Never goes out. Won’t speak to…
Grieving Jean Harlow at the funeral of Paul Bern, her husband, 1932. Things take a turn for the sad in chapter 3, You Only Live Once…