It's 1:16pm on one of the hottest days of the year here in New York City, and I'm flummoxed. Not from the heat, which could incite violent, screaming riots in Franciscan monasteries. No it's from trying to figure out the best way to say, that I'm going to post a story, in pieces, about a detective who's toothy greed, overcame his good and common sense, and gets into more trouble, than a bootlegger at a Teetotaller's picnic.But only if the teetotallers carried Magnums and thirty-eighty, and had a mad on that lasts for weeks.
I did not want to unceremoniously, post snippets of this decidedly pulp noir tale of greed, lust, deceit, and murder. The thing is, I've no idea if anyone other than my family (hi ya'll) will read this, so as with anything you love to do, do it for yourself, do the best you can, and let 'er rip!
So, without any adieu, the first installment of "A Fancy Piece of Homicide" by E.D. Bass.
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