I Should Have Stayed Home tells the story of two jobless roommates and movie extras. After Mona gains notoriety for cursing a judge during a friend?s trial, she and Ralph are introduces to Hollywood society. Ralph battles with his own corruption and loss of principle, while Mona serves as his conscience, warning him against himself and the temptations of success.

    But then he slips--he meets a young "model" and begins an affair. One night he arrives at his girlfriend's apartment and finds more than he bargained for. Two masked men have caught his misdemeanors on camera and now they want a cool hundred grand. But they've picked the wrong man, because Harry Mitchell doesn't get mad--he gets even.

    We sat shoulder to shoulder at a little bar in the east Fifties. We ate dinner together, saw a Broadway show together, shared a cab together.The bartender, the waiter, the usher, the cab driver—none of them remembers you. The police say I was home strangling my wife at the moment I met you.You are the only one who can prove my story—but I don't know your name, or where you live. And I can't search for you from a jail cell....

    The one book Black Lizard never published, it's the dream-like tale of a man after a jailbreak, who meets up with the woman of his dreams... and his nightmares. Phenomenal work of the period, ranking with the best efforts of Thompson, Woolrich, Goodis et al.

    If one of them can shoot like me... the odds are a damn sight better."In the course of his line of business, the man who calls himself Roy Martin has robbed a bank in Phoenix, killed three men, and caught a bullet in his arm. Safety--and one half of $178,000--awaits him on the other side of the country. All that separates "Martin" from his destination are two thousand treacherous miles and three lethal temptations: to trust the wrong friend, to love the right woman, and to start believing that a man like himself can ever be safe.The Name of the Game is Death combines a narrative as taut as a hangman's rope with chillingly authentic insights into the psychology of casual murder.

    All they really knew about her was that she possessed a terrifying beauty-and that each time she appeared, a man died horribly...

    No man could resist her charms—not even the hardboiled NYPD detective sent to find out who turned her into a faceless corpse. As this tough cop probes the mystery of Laura's death, he becomes obsessed with her strange power. Soon he realizes he's been seduced by a dead woman—or has he? Laura won lasting renown as an Academy Award-nominated 1944 film, the greatest noir romance of all time. Vera Caspary's equally haunting novel is remarkable for its stylish, hardboiled writing, its electrifying plot twists, and its darkly complex characters—including a woman who stands as the ultimate femme fatale.

    On the same day that Roy Cady is diagnosed with a terminal illness, he senses that his boss, a dangerous loan-sharking bar-owner, wants him dead. Known “without affection” to members of the boss’s crew as “Big Country” on account of his long hair, beard, and cowboy boots, Roy is alert to the possibility that a routine assignment could be a deathtrap. Which it is. Yet what the would-be killers do to Roy Cady is not the same as what he does to them, which is to say that after a smoking spasm of violence, they are mostly dead and he is mostly alive.Before Roy makes his getaway, he realizes there are two women in the apartment, one of them still breathing, and he sees something in her frightened, defiant eyes that causes a fateful decision. He takes her with him as he goes on the run from New Orleans to Galveston, Texas—an action as ill-advised as it is inescapable. The girl’s name is Rocky, and she is too young, too tough, too sexy—and far too much trouble. Roy, Rocky, and her sister hide in the battered seascape of Galveston’s country-western bars and fleabag hotels, a world of treacherous drifters, pickup trucks, and ashed-out hopes. Any chance that they will find safety there is soon lost. Rocky is a girl with quite a story to tell, one that will pursue and damage Roy for a very long time to come in this powerful and atmospheric thriller, impossible to put down. Constructed with maximum tension and haunting aftereffect, written in darkly beautiful prose, Galveston announces the arrival of a major new literary talent.

    "Red Harvest" is more than a superb crime novel: it is a classic exploration of corruption and violence in the American grain.The Op was in Personville, derogatory nickname aside, as the result of a letter to the Continental Detective Agency in San Francisco from Donald Willsson, publisher of the local paper, asking for an agent to visit. No other information. As soon as the OP arrives, the body count begins. It starts with his client!

    Notoriously cunning and ruthless, Gloria shows her eager young protégée the ropes, ushering her into a glittering demimonde of late-night casinos, racetracks, betting parlors, inside heists, and big, big money. Suddenly, the world is at her feet--as long as she doesn't take any chances, like falling for the wrong guy. As the roulette wheel turns, both mentor and protégée scramble to stay one step ahead of their bosses and each other.

    When Dick commits one crime and plans another, the police arrest him for a crime he actually did not commit. Dick attempts to reconcile with his family and find his way out of LA’s seedy underworld. You Play the Black and the Red Comes Up was a bestseller when originally published in 1938 and is a noir classic.

    Two delinquents and a girl encounter real trouble when professionals take over their planned robbery.The novel was adapted by Jean-Luc Godard for his film Bande à part (Band of Outsiders, 1964).

    She had nice straight shoulders. There was nothing wrong between them and her open-toed shoes, so I guess the trouble must have been somewhere behind those blue-gray eyes. They'd be trouble, of course. She looked up and called, 'Is your name, Corson?' " From the first paragraph, Max Phillips's pitch-pure ear sets the tone; we have entered a back-alley world where men are tough and women are easy; where dirty secrets clog the citadels of power. With its staccato dialogue and its strip-club fusion of sex and vengeance, Fade to Blonde ironically recalls a more innocent age.

    A COP HAD KILLED HIMSELF, AND EVERY CROOK IN TOWN KNEW THAT WOULD BE SURE TO BRING ON THE BIG HEAT. Why did they fear a dead man? Dave Bannion, homicide sergeant, fought for the answer to that question. The dead man was a police clerk who shot himself for no obvious reason. That was Bannion's first judgment, until a girl named Lucy presented a quite different picture of the dead man from the one he had shown to the world and to his fastidious, glacial wife. Bannion's chief, Lieutenant Wilks, wanted the case closed and speculation ended quickly and tightly. So did Max Stone and Lagana, who held the city in a sinister, underworld grip. But why? Why did they all fear a dead man . . . ?

    ...and two robbers hired by a local crime boss manage to heist half a million dollars from an armored car. But getting the money and getting away with it are two different things, especially with a blizzard coming down, the cops in hot pursuit, and a double-crossing gambler and a murderous park ranger threatening to turn this white Christmas blood red.