CHICAGO, 1959: Meet Sharon Gardner (Real name? Sasha Garodnowicz, not that she'd ever tell you), more at home atop a cocktail lounge barstool than an office's steno chair. Still, what she really needs is a job. Any job. So, when she lands behind the reception desk at a one-man private detective firm, for double the money she's used to and working for a handsome charmer straight out of the lurid crime magazines she devours on the sly, it almost seems too good to be true. Because, of course, it is. Soon enough, vicious thugs with badges have her on the run in the south-side's dark alleys and bungalow rows, where Sharon's suddenly swept up in a deadly extortion scheme and widespread civic corruption. People have been murdered, and she just might be next. But it's tough to chase crooks and killers when you're running in heels. The Stiletto Gumshoe gives a nod to 1950's/1960's private eye series, swapping that era's many iconic hard-drinking, hard-fighting, hard-loving, hard-boiled P.I.'s for a memorable, streetwise twenty-two year old just struggling to get by in a mid-twentieth century man's world that may be right on the cusp of big social changes, but definitely isn't there yet!

CHICAGO, 1959: Big news a few months back when the press dubbed her "The Stiletto Gumshoe", Sharon Gardner (Real name? Sasha Garodnowicz, not that she'd ever tell you) struggles to get by on odd jobs for neighborhood insurance brokers. The ink's barely dry on her temporary P.I. license when Sharon lands her first real paying client, a missing person case that promptly leads her to a crew of out-of-work "fashion models" running a small time con. Till they tried to take down the wrong person, that is, and now the grifters are getting killed, the missing person doesn't want to be found, and Sharon's suddenly trapped between the cops, the mob and a dangerous old nemesis who'd love to see her dead. Sharon's never asked for much, just a comfy perch atop a cocktail lounge barstool, a tall cool highball and a twirl or two on a dance floor (or something, if the mood's right) with a real looker. After all, some people are just lovers. But some are killers. And Sharon's about to discover if maybe, she's a little of both. Lovers And Killers is the follow-up to Sharon Gardner's debut in The Stiletto Gumshoe, and once again gives a nod and a wink to 1950's/1960's private eye series, swapping that era's many iconic hard-boiled P.I.'s for a memorable, streetwise twenty-two year old just struggling to get by in Chicago's ethnic blue-collar bungalow rows. It's a mid-twentieth century man's world that may be right on the cusp of big social changes, but definitely isn't there yet!

Is it still a lie when it's whispered from luscious lips? NOIR QUARTET: Lipstick & Liars presents four tales of mystery and crime from the grim and gritty netherworld of 'Noir'. You'll amble down big city boulevards where danger lurks around every corner, then discover lurid secrets lurking beneath main street's wholesome veneer. There's love and lust, greed and murder, heroes and villains...but it's hard to tell what's what and who's who when everything may be just another lie coated in lipstick. Whodunits? Not so much. The Noir Quartet series of short story collections by C.J. Thomas are compact reads, each offering four dark tales of murder, mystery and more, set in the 'then' and the 'now', celebrating classic Noir tropes and then reimagining them in fresh settings.

Bobbie passes the one-time speakeasy on her way to and from an endless series of pointless job interviews that go nowhere. It's the mid-1960's, she's out of work and fellows seem to get all the 'real' jobs. Bobbie's degree doesn't count for much when all that's available is a waitress' uniform or carting a cocktail tray around a bar...a very peculiar bar. In a decaying old nightclub on a deserted block, the lights fade into deep purple shadows to hide decades of secrets. There's a whiff of something lavender in the smoky haze, glasses clinking at empty tables and a beautiful face staring back at her from the mirror behind the bar...with violet eyes. Figures emerge from the lilac fog: A man in black at a piano, a woman in orchid at a microphone, so real that Bobbie can almost hear them beckoning for her to join them. It's said that some have done just that. But some have vanished, some have even died...and Bobbie may be next. Welcome to Violet's.

Sleuthing duo Lillian Frost and Edith Head investigate a behind-the-scenes scandal in this delightful Golden Age of Hollywood mystery. 1939, Los Angeles. Lillian Frost is shocked when her friend, glamorous costume designer Edith Head, hands her the script to a new film that's about to start shooting. Streetlight Story is based on a true crime: the California Republic bank robbery of 1936. Lillian's beau, LAPD detective Gene Morrow, was one of the officers on the case; his partner, Teddy, was tragically shot dead. It seems the scriptwriter has put Gene at the centre of a scandal, twisting fact with fiction - or has he? With Gene reluctant to talk about the case, the movie quickly becoming the hottest ticket in town, a suspicious death on the Paramount studio lot and the police reopening the investigation into Teddy's death, Lillian is determined to find answers. Can Lillian and Edith uncover the truth of what happened that fateful day and clear Gene's name?

Those stories you hear? The ones about things that only come out at night? Things that feed on blood, feed on us? Got news for you: they’re true. Only it’s not like the movies or old man Stoker’s storybook. It’s worse. Especially if you happen to be one of them. Just ask Joe Pitt. There’s a shambler on the loose. Some fool who got himself infected with a flesh-eating bacteria is lurching around, trying to munch on folks’ brains. Joe hates shamblers, but he’s still the one who has to deal with them. That’s just the kind of life he has. Except afterlife might be better word. From the Battery to the Bronx, and from river to river, Manhattan is crawling with Vampyres. Joe is one of them, and he’s not happy about it. Yeah, he gets to be stronger and faster than you, and he’s tough as nails and hard to kill. But spending his nights trying to score a pint of blood to feed the Vyrus that’s eating at him isn’t his idea of a good time. And Joe doesn’t make it any easier on himself. Going his own way, refusing to ally with the Clans that run the undead underside of Manhattan–it ain’t easy. It’s worse once he gets mixed up with the Coalition–the city’s most powerful Clan–and finds himself searching for a poor little rich girl who’s gone missing in Alphabet City. Now the Coalition and the girl’s high-society parents are breathing down his neck, anarchist Vampyres are pushing him around, and a crazy Vampyre cult is stalking him. No time to complain, though. Got to find that girl and kill that shambler before the whip comes down . . . and before the sun comes up.

Private investigator August Riordan returns to San Francisco to avenge the death of his friend and one-time partner, Chris Duckworth. Duckworth has taken over Riordan’s old business, his old office and even his old apartment, and Riordan suspects Duckworth’s death is linked to the missing person case he was working when he died. An alluring young woman named Angelina hired Duckworth to look for her half-sister, but what Riordan finds instead is a murderous polyamorous family intent on claiming a previously unknown manuscript from dead Beat writer Jack Kerouac. Following clues from Duckworth and a trail of mutilated bodies left by the family, Riordan soon realizes that avenging his partner will first involve recovering the manuscript—and then saving Angelina and himself from kidnap, torture and death. As the bodies pile up, Riordan must work with old allies and enemies to untangle Duckworth’s last case before time runs out. Praise for THE DEAD BEAT SCROLL: “Slick, sardonic and suspenseful—everything a great thriller should be.” —Lee Child, bestselling author of the Jack Reacher novels “Fast-paced excursion into the remnants of San Francisco's lost bohemia…Alternately comic, sad, lurid, impossible, blasphemous, and just plain fun.” —Domenic Stansberry, Edgar Award-winning author of the North Beach Mystery Series

The first in a series of riveting behind-the-scenes mysteries, Renee Patrick's Design for Dying is a delightful romp through Hollywood's Golden Age. Los Angeles, 1937. Lillian Frost has traded dreams of stardom for security as a department store salesgirl . . . until she discovers she's a suspect in the murder of her former roommate, Ruby Carroll. Party girl Ruby died wearing a gown she stole from the wardrobe department at Paramount Pictures, domain of Edith Head. Edith has yet to win the first of her eight Academy Awards; right now she's barely hanging on to her job, and a scandal is the last thing she needs. To clear Lillian's name and save Edith's career, the two women join forces. Unraveling the mystery pits them against a Hungarian princess on the lam, a hotshot director on the make, and a private investigator who's not on the level. All they have going for them are dogged determination, assists from the likes of Bob Hope and Barbara Stanwyck, and a killer sense of style. In show business, that just might be enough. At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.