Hey dollface (30s slang) - every page of my novel HOLLYWOOD SINNERS will grab you. Here's a sample page for your edification and enjoyment:
Carol is a 16 year old woman who left the sheep farm to be a star.
Mama Gravy is the dance hall (brothel) owner.
(This is from my original Word document (the novel is out in paperback) so if you see a typo just laugh at it real loud.)
Carol asked, "Where's everybody else from those good old days? I don't see any girls around here who look older than thirty - if that."
Mama Gravy explained, "Yep, you can't be here and be too old. Most of the gals just excuse themselves if they haven't already died off from gin, kooties, or dope. Or just getting themselves killed by an angry man who can't get his manhood stiff anymore. But not the girls I first worked with. All the girls from my time moved on together in one angry pack when they got too old to work it. The ones that survived now live in a camp in the Hollywood Hills, in the west, at Laurel Canyon, but out beyond where they haven't built anything yet. Houdini used to live in Laurel Canyon but that's where they have houses, all just on one side of Mount Olympus Street. These ladies went beyond all that - into the wild."
"It sounds frightening."
Mama Gravy nodded and continued in a tone of voice as if she was telling a ghost story. "The ladies sleep in a lean-tos and huts they built themselves and they eat what they can poach. I visited them after their first month up there and they were still like a gaggle of girl scouts trying to make their first pumpkin pie. Then I visited the camp about a year later, expecting them to all be gone, or worse, to all have leprosy. It seems to me that if you camp out too long on all that dirt you could get leprosy. But they were not only still up there but they were like a bunch of mean ole' Marines - as disciplined as any group of men in an army and at war. It was amusing to me."
"And no leprosy?"
"None. But then about five years ago I went up there, again. Those that were still there, about eight of them, were all running around naked and painting symbols on each other's bodies with mud, and praying to weeds and bushes, and really just giving themselves up to the devil. It was chilling. I only thought city folks went crazy over religion, but this was nothing like that, come to think of it. There was nobody on the radio trying to get them to send in money for their soul. It was like religion with no money involved at all. I'd never seen anything like it, I tell you. Is that Communism?"
"They'd gone mad?"
Mama Gravy added, "Actually, other than being naked, mud painted, and weed praying, they looked well fed and happy. They were doing something right. I wonder if that could last. I should go up there again someday and see if there's still anybody up there. One thing's for sure - there's not going to be any spring chickens up there. It's been ten years now. Oh, I'm a fainting daisy! Ten years! No spring chickens!"
Carol said, "Chickens eating bugs."
"What? Who said anything about poaching bugs? No, there's bigger game up there in the hills. But still, what a hard way to live for all those old gals. When you get old there's really nothing much you can do but get out of town. Even the camps in the hills aren't for the old people. The living is too hard. I wonder where old people go? This town is especially supposed to just be for the young people - young and beautiful and full of fashion and dreams. But sometimes you see a few zombies on Vine Street that used to be a working girl. If you ever catch her eyes all you see is a sudden flash of hate and anger. Never look a person in the eyes like that - especially somebody just standing around like that on Vine Street. It'll freeze your soul. Never look into the eyes of a zombie if you ever want to have peaceful dreams from then on out." Mama Gravy sucked on her reefer again. "God this stuff makes me talk too much."
Ha ha - read some reviews at the publisher at http://stonegarden.net/ - HOLLYWOOD SINNERS is there in general fiction. And read the reviews at Amazon, too !!!



Comments: 50
Up to his death, her second cousin, my grandfather, lived with his money (quite literally) in his mattress. The man didn't have a bank account in 1987 when he passed away.
Or get it at Amazon.
Or ask your favorite bookstore to order it for you.
This has to be made into a movie just so it will have a costume designer !!! Woot !!!
ha ha
(awful in a fabulous way)
NOW !!!