Year of publication: 1985
HOMICIDE SANITARIUM Fredric Brown in The Detective Pulps VOLUME 1 Introduction by Bill Pronzini The pulps, those gaudy-covered, cheap-paper, jack-of-all-fiction magazines that flourished during the first half of this century, provided a training ground for dozens of writers who eventually went on to bigger and better literary endeavors. William E. Barrett, Theodore Dreiser, Sinclair Lewis, Horace McCoy, and Tennessee Williams wrote for them. So did Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Max Brand, Edgar ...
Keywords: detective mystery noir pulps
Year of publication: 2009
Megan Abbott BURY ME DEEP For Josh, because words dont ever fit even what they are trying to say at Part One THRILL PARTIES EVERY NIGHT over on Hussel Street. That tiny house, why, its 600 square feet of percolating, Wurlitzering sin. Those girls with their young skin, tight and glamorous, their rimy lungs and scratchy voices, one cheek flush and cmon boys and the other, so accommodating, even with lil wrists and ankles stripped to pearly bone by sickness. They lay there on their daybed, men all ...
Year of publication: 2014
Adam Sternbergh SHOVEL READY To Julia May Jonas Every human being who has ever lived has died, except the living. FREDERICK SEIDEL, The Bush Administration I. 1. My name is Spademan. Im a garbageman. this fucker. I dont care. Dont you want Just a name. I have his address. Great. See this fucker I said dont. Okay. The less I know, etcetera. How much What I said. To the account I mentioned. And how will I You wont hear from me again. But how do I The dead guy. Thats how. I dont want to know your ...
Keywords: dystopia noir
Year of publication: 1990
Warren Adler THE WAR OF THE ROSES For Page and Clyde 1 A cold rain whipped across the clapboard facade of the old house, spattering against the panes. Like everyone else in the bone-damp parlor set up theater style with folding wooden-slat seats, the auctioneer raised his gloomy eyes toward the windows, perhaps hoping the gusty rain would shoot out the glass and abort the abysmal performance. Oliver Rose sat on an aisle seat, a few rows back from the podium, his long legs stretched out on the ...