I'm doing this with the writers at The Nut House Scribblers - check out their sight to link to other authors of all genres doing the same thing - posting sexy snippets!
So my snippets are for the book I have coming out today!!! Storyville is a gay noir set in New Orleans of 1916. Max is an Irish cop walking the beat and Tommy is a piano player in a whorehouse. Both know their attraction is dangerous, but there's another danger lurking - someone might want Tommy dead.
This is part of the Noir PAX group this month - a clutch of five novellas on the theme of Noir. Just think a gay Sam Spade, or Chinatown, or The Maltese Falcon - books showing the underbelly of a city.
And for New Orleans, my home town, there was no other area that fit that bill like Storyville. Sitting outside
the French Quarter it was home to the city's whores - from the poorest to the finest.
I'm posting a couple - this one because I think it really sets the atmosphere. and New Orleans has plenty of that - seeping into the city, the music, and the food. What do you think?
As the sun set, both horse drawn wagons and those new pickup trucks jostled for positions in front of the rows of houses lining each side of Basin. Deliverymen and houseboys of all colors carried barrels of beer and crates of hooch into the houses. Negro maids, dressed in black uniforms with white aprons and little white lace caps, stood on the stoops, and ordered them about, pointing and shouting. Old gray-haired Negro men with push brooms and buckets of soapy water cleaned the banquettes in front of the houses of the filth from the previous night and day.In just a few hours, Basin Street and the rest of Storyville would come to life. Carriages and automobiles carrying New Orleans’ finest gentlemen, dressed in black tuxedos and white gloves, would arrive.
But here's my sexy snippet....
I have no idea what time it was when my door opened, but I came out of the bed like I’d heard the clanging of a fire wagon.
“What the fuck?” I staggered, unsteady on my feet.
Tommy stood in the doorway. In the faint light of my gas lamp, I could just make him out. I fell back to sit on the bed and ran my hands through my hair, then over my eyes, trying to clear my head and settle my racing heart.
He didn’t say a word. I looked up. “What’s wrong?” My gut tightened at the thought Tommy needed me.“I’m not in your bed.”
Which one did you like? Which one made you want to read more? Leave a comment and let me know - once lucky commenter will win a copy of Storyville.
If you liked those snippets, check out the rest of the book.
Tell them Lynn sent you.