old Jules de Grandin and John Thunstone pulps. I’m not a big fan of horror, but I had
side.
here anymore.”
I decided to try a different approach. “Can I get your name? Maybe he’ll phone me
witches to be hanged. Cute.
teenagers in black lipstick – boys and girls – or chainmail jewelry on middle-aged men who
with broken furniture or the building struck by a lightning bolt.
impulse to finish off the last of the drugstore champagne and hide in the stockroom.
in fact, he looked like the male half of the illustration on a historical romance: unruly raven
rhinestones in his teeth? Certainly something shone in his right earlobe. He wore leather
“But this is charming,” Gabriel assured me, as Friedlander navigated his star in my
Enthusiastic applause from the waiting audience echoed off the dark beams.
understand you write also.”
“A little.” Not enough, thank God, that anyone wanted to send me out on the road.
“You’re too modest. I’ve read Murder Will Out. Very witty.”
Either this guy did his homework like nobody I’d ever met before, or he was gay. My
books don’t attract many mainstream readers.