Object of Lust

Like a lot of working authors of the paperback original era, Charles Runyon (1928-2015) supplemented his income as a mystery and science-fiction writer by authoring titillating sleaze novels using a pseudonym. Black Gat Books, an imprint of Stark House Press, has unearthed a 1962 title Runyon wrote under the pen name Mark West for a contemporary reprint.

Marian, age 35, is a bored and lonely housewife and mom who is initially receptive to the flirtatious advances of 22 year-old Lewis Leland. Things escalate into hot-and-heavy make-out sessions for the pair in the woodsy confines of the lake resort town where Lewis works teaches high school girls how to water-ski.

After Lewis saves Marian from drowning in the lake, they get together on-the-sly for some thank-you-sex, the encounter ends abruptly when they are almost caught together in the woods by some local kids. Marian develops cold feet and loses the fire in her belly for young Lewis. The problem? Lewis doesn’t want this forbidden romance to end and goes into a full stalker mode.

Unlike most novels about creepy stalkers, this one is partially told from the creep’s perspective. This is a trick that Runyon also employed in his groundbreaking serial killer novel from 1965, The Prettiest Girl I Ever Killed. Runyon does a particularly good job of getting the reader into Lewis’ infatuated head, and the writing is particularly solid.

Unfortunately, the paperback isn’t a crime-suspense novel throughout. Instead, the plot swims in the histrionics of the daisy-chain of affairs and infidelities among the summer lovers in Marian’s orbit. It’s pretty standard fare for a 1960s sleaze paperback and nothing you haven’t read before if you’re familiar with the genre.

To be clear, the scenes with Lewis becoming increasingly unhinged were pure gold. For my money, I’d have preferred more creepy stalker stuff and way less relationship drama filler. Is this book worth your while? Runyon was definitely a unique talent, but this isn’t his best work. It’s not much better than a mediocre Orrie Hitt book covered in some light suspense shrink wrap.

Buy a copy of the book HERE.

Carnival Girl

Cutting Edge Books has performed a marvelous job preserving mid-20th century fiction. The publisher's new editions of classic titles by the likes of Howard Hunt, Ovid Demaris, Ralph Dennis, and March Hastings position these vintage, sometimes expensive literary works, into the spotlight for a whole new generation of crime-fiction and mystery fans. 

One of the authors that Cutting Edge has focused on is Stuart James, an underrated crime-noir author that also served as a staff writer and sports reporter for magazines and newspapers. James also became an editor for Midwood Books, a subsidiary of paperback powerhouse Tower Publications. I thoroughly enjoyed the Cutting Edge editions of James' novels Frisco Flat (1960) and Judge Not My Sins (1951). I was happy to discover another Cutting Edge title, Carnival Girl, authored by Max Gareth, a pseudonym employed by James. The novel was originally published in 1960 by a small, low-budget publishing house called Chariot Books, home of other underrated novelists like Arthur Adlon and John Burton Thompson. 

Norma is a gorgeous Midwestern girl raised by an alcoholic single mom. When she's nearly raped by her drunken stepfather, Norma runs away from home. In the book's opening pages, readers find Norma at an Indiana diner using her last dime for food and coffee. Thankfully, the waitress displays some pity, and arranges for her to catch a ride “west” with a truck-driving customer. However, Norma doesn't realize that the waitress earned an extra tip by selling her to the highest bidder. On a lonely stretch of blacktop, the trucker rapes Norma before she escapes to a nearby farm. After being sized-up by a farm laborer, she manages to escape what is perceived as an attempted rape by flagging down two people traveling with the carnival.

The carny duo (slang for employees of a carnival) convinces Norma that she can make it in the carnival as a stripper. Back then, a fan favorite at rural, small town carnivals is the peep show, where men and boys with enough coins could enter a tent to watch naked women dance. Norma learns a few tricks and before long she is the carnival's number one attraction. But, she draws the attention of three specific men.

Speed is the good guy daredevil that performs motorcycle tricks. He falls in love with Norma, but she doesn't have the same feelings for him. Instead, Norma is lusting after Lee, the bad boy carnival drummer. There's also a man named Frank, who pitches Norma a lot of cash to come to St. Louis to work his nightclub. But, she later learns that Frank is in deep with the Mob and if she takes his job, she'll be passed around as a prostitute making a meager living lying on her back for criminals. It's a twisty, hot triangle with innocent Norma caught in the middle. 

With Carnival Girl, Stuart James completes a vivid, often disturbing character study of this young, unfortunate woman and her abrupt, violent end of innocence. Like Judge Not My Sins proved, James was such a clever storyteller with an uncanny ability to make his characters lifelike. By using a common crime-noir trope, the traveling carnival, James is able to submerge this inexperienced character into a world of depravity. Norma is a living doll thrust into dangerous situations and guided by seedy men with below-the-belt motivations. 

Carnival Girl isn't the proverbial happily ever after story of love on the run, but instead a more provocative look at young men and women pursuing carnal desires no matter the cost. It is these types of stories that made Stuart James such a talented, organic storyteller. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Motel Trap

The book is called Motel Trap, with a blurb suggesting its contents are prostitutes, pimps, and sex elements. But, the whole “motel” thing happens on page 147 of 155 pages. You might ask what the first 147 pages of the book are about, right? Try this on for size – its about the pantyhose industry. 

Motel Trap is essentially an episode of Mad Men as protagonist Dave Shelton wheels and deals his company's silk pantyhose to retail chains hoping to reverse the company's downward spiral. The narrative focuses on marketing ideas, photo shoots, women's catalogs, etc. Not exactly provocative or riveting reading.

Western novelist Lee Floren, who authored Motel Trap under one of his many pseudonyms, Matt Harding, was well outside of his element to tackle softcore, sleazy romance titles. This novel was published by Beacon in 1962, a company that was notorious for hundreds of romance paperbacks, each with gaudy blurbs like, “Her office was a motel room!” 

Kudos to Floren for at least attempting to write a serious novel, like Beacon's own Charles Boeckman, who was writing the same type of books for the publisher as Alex Carter. But, unlike Boeckman, Floren's novel is predictable, penned in a pedestrian style that doesn't captivate the reader. 

While its not a Hall of Shame candidate, Motel Trap is certainly lodging in the vicinity. Unless you are collecting this stuff, with “artist unknown” cover art, then for God's sake just stay away. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Traded Wives

Celebrated jazz musician and author Charles Boeckman authored crime-fiction short stories and novels using his own name through the mid 20th century. However, using the pseudonym of Alex Carter, he authored racy, sexually-charged romance paperbacks for publishing houses like Beacon. I've enjoyed his writing, especially his Alex Carter novel Boy-Lover (1963). I recently purchased another Carter novel, Traded Wives. The book was published in both the US and Canada simultaneously in 1964. The American version was published through Beacon (8711X, cover artist unknown). The Canadian version by Softcover Library (S95157) recycled Clement Micarelli's painting from Orrie Hitt's 1962 novel Love Thief.

The novel presents three couples and a single woman living in a new housing community called Garden Acres. Each of the couples is struggling in various ways that revolve around intimacy. Boeckman depicts each marriage through revolving chapters that explain each character's backstory, the evolution into marriage, and the physical wants, desires, and jealous rage within this sexual suburbia. 

Debbie and Bobby have just moved into Garden Acres after graduating from high school and becoming pregnant. Their parents are wealthy, respectable contributors to the community that can't afford any negative influences. They immediately force the two kids to become married and quickly convert the couple into expecting, stereotypical middle-class suburbanites. The problem is that Bobby is still running around with the town's young hotties and Debbie isn't thrilled to be settling down after bedding down the senior class's male students. That's a real problem.

Charles is an alcohol distributor and sales rep that travels the back roads of America selling booze. He smokes cigars, drives a Cadillac, and has a loud-mouth that mostly spews dirty jokes. After meeting backwoods country girl (and virgin) Barbara Lee, he talks her into marriage and they quickly move into  the thriving sexual landscape of Garden Acres. Barbara Lee wants to pursue a college education and learn more about the modern world. After conquering Barbara Lee, Charles sets his eyes on his neighbor Cheryl. 

Tony is a white-collar guy living the American dream – playing golf on the weekends, mowing green grass, and relaxing in the shade with his newlywed wife Cheryl. The problem is that Cheryl isn't into sex, thus creating a physical barrier between the two. Tony is sexually frustrated with Cheryl and she is equally angered with his insistence on intimacy. 

Boeckman was just such a great storyteller of these noir novels. Despite the titles and covers, these novels aren't any different from a Nora Roberts novel today. There are no graphic sex scenes or much (if any) profanity. In cinematic ratings, these are probably PG-13. But, that doesn't make them any less intriguing or enjoyable. 

The story-lines are detailed with plot and character development that's simply superb. The narrative thrusts these unhappy couples into a wild mix of sex, fantasy, and appeasement. Debbie with Tony and Bobby, Cheryl with Tony, Charles with Cheryl, and Bobby with a divorced, sexually starved woman named April. It's a mingling of affairs and it's fantastic. I also enjoyed the “crime-noir” aspect of Tony, Charles, and Cheryl's love-triangle. It becomes violent and engaging and is probably the real highlight of the novel. The end result is that Traded Wives is highly, highly recommended. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Judge Not My Sins

As I documented in my Frisco Flat review, Stuart James was a staff writer for True and Popular Mechanics as well as a sports reporter for the Delaware Valley Advance. He authored original paperbacks for lowly publishing houses like Tower and Monarch. Thankfully, some of his novels have been dusted off and resurrected thanks to Cutting Edge Books. Enjoying their new edition of Frisco Flat, I chose to read Judge Not My Sins next. It was originally published in 1951 by Midwood.

What I enjoyed the most about James' narrative may be something he didn't intend for me to enjoy all that much – pulp story writing deadlines and publishing. David Markham, the book's protagonist, is a 34 year old pulp writer living in New York City. He wants to write the great American novel, but his agent encourages him to grow as a writer and take the necessary stepping stones to achieve greatness. He puts David through the paces, first with newspapers, then on to writing for the pulps, and then articles as he moves into a better market. But, readers are introduced to David as he navigates the world of pulp fiction, the middle rungs on the tall literary ladder. 

David's life is at a crossroads. He's become complacent with writing pulp fiction, a problem he analyzes by suggesting he has already “written the same damned story fifty times” and to write another will simply require changing the characters. His agent says the writing is very good, it isn't literary garbage, and that “blood 'n guts” sells. Money is the reason David clicks the typewriter keys. He's married, although separated. He has two kids, but he only sees them once a month. His paychecks mostly go to his wife and their mortgage. All of these headaches catapult David into the arms of a mentally deranged woman named Leslie.

Like a Gil Brewer or Orrie Hitt novel, Judge Not My Sins develops into a devilish relationship study. Leslie is gorgeous, lives with her dog, and meets David for a one-night stand at a bar. David becomes engrossed with the woman and finds himself hopelessly falling in love. But, Leslie doesn't like David's commitments to his wife and kids. She also doesn't understand his writing career and what he hopes to achieve. As she beckons chaos and confusion, David's agent and wife prove to be responsible and less pretentious. It's this storm of emotions that drive David to the brink of madness while competing to meet five writing assignments and a movie novelization, his so-called “big break.” 

Based on publishing houses and lack of a household name, it's so easy to write Stuart James off as a hack sleaze writer. But, his career deserved better. He's such a great author and injects a personal insight into this novel, what is essentially a book about the writing experience. I'm sure that the career turmoil and rejections riding David were all firsthand experiences James suffered throughout his journey. 

Judge Not My Sins is a powerful look at self-absorption, complacency, mental illness, and the complexities of marriage and divorce. It's a paper life, but its life. I'm not sure why James wasn't able to break into the middle echelon of paperback writing (at the very least), but based on this book alone, he deserved a better hand than he was dealt. Hopefully, this new shuffling of the deck by Cutting Edge Books will deal him a win. 

Buy a copy of the book HERE.

Nude in the Sand

The 1950s and 1960s publishing industry experienced a trend of authors and readers embracing swamp-noir, a concept that features the average man being tempted by a seductress in the backwoods of a rural southern town. Charles Williams and Harry Whittington both excelled in this type of storytelling, which led countless other low to mid-echelon authors to try their hand. Louisiana author and WW2 veteran John Burton Thompson (1911-1994) authored these types of novels. As expensive collectors items now, these vintage paperbacks demand a hefty dollar. 

Thankfully, Cutting Edge Books have gained the rights to Thompson's literary work and have made a number of his novels into new editions for an affordable price. After enjoying his 1962 novels Kiss or Kill and Swamp Nymph, I decided to take another swig with Nude in the Sand. It was originally published by Beacon in 1959. 

The most entertaining aspect of Nude in the Sand is that there isn't a main character. Instead, Thompson uses the novel to tell many different stories about the backwoods shenanigans of several different characters that have merely six degrees of separation. By the book's end it all wraps together cohesively in a satisfying conclusion that crosses these mini-stories over (and under) each other. 

Lecia is a 20 year old vixen living with her mother on a run-down farm. Hope and aspiration are shooting stars rarely glimpsed and never caught. In a bid for money, Lecia's mother sells her off to a wealthy man named Alex who takes the two to his sprawling estate. Lecia is destined to be the despondent, pregnant housewife pushing out babies to create Alex's dynasty. The problem is that Lecia despises Alex due to his violent sexual craving and his affairs with a black slave.

Across the fields is Abe, a retired wealthy man of nobility that has a young black lover named Charline. Readers learn Abe's history with Charline, how he funded her college education, cared for her needs, and is now secretly engaged in a relationship with her. Abe and Charline frequent a hunting cabin where the two intimately share their love. But, Abe understands the age difference and the fact that the town will be thrown in a violent upheaval if their interracial love affair were to be exposed. 

Abe's nephew Merrit is a college graduate and artist that hasn't quite found his footing yet. Abe allows Merrit to live on his estate and find himself. Instead, Merrit finds an imprint in the sand made by the nude Lecia. Over time, Merrit becomes obsessed with the imprints and starts to make a bronze statue of this unknown woman. Lecia doesn't realize that her daily visits to this jungle swimming hole are being captured by the imprints she makes in the sand. Eventually, Merrit and Lecia learn of one another and are connected through Abe. When Lecia's husband Alex begins making moves on Charline, the narrative becomes more complex and enticing – Abe vs Alex over Charline. Merrit lusting for Lecia despite her marriage to Alex. There's also another side story of a male slave that hates Alex for raping other slaves. 

With this many moving parts, it would be hard for any author to excel at all of these concepts and designs. But, Thompson is such a great writer and purposefully develops this plot into a burning bed of affairs, relationships, violence, and raging sex. The novel certainly possesses enough tropes to make it a swamp-noir, but at the same time it also works as a plantation novel, or what some refer to as a “slave gothic”. Alex's violent encounters with the strong, more domineering slave named Bruce makes for a humorous, albeit savage, thread in the story's web of self-pursuit and sexual gratification. Abe's relationship with Charline is nurturing, but is laced with strong dialogue that reflects the civil unrest of a country at war with itself in the mid 20th century. 

Nude in the Sand is a riveting, hot-blooded account of sexual affairs running rampant in the Deep South. With colorful characters and multi-faceted, interlocking storylines, John B. Thompson creates a whirlwind suspenseful romance novel ripe with violence and racial unrest. Fans of Charles Williams, Harry Whittington, and Erskine Caldwell should find plenty to like. Recommended. 

Buy a copy of the book HERE.

Untamed Lust

Orrie Hitt (1916-1975) was a family man living in upstate New York barely making a living while he cranked out 150 sleaze paperbacks between 1953 and 1970 — many of which had significant crime-fiction elements. Untamed Lust was a 1960 Beacon Books release by Hitt that remains available today from Prologue Press and as an audiobook.

Eddie Boyd is a 23 year-old down-and-out farm worker who arrives at Wildwood Acres looking for a job hunting and trapping vermin on the estate. The master of the manor is Frank Jennings, a wheelchair bound drunk with a contempt for the wildlife he’s hiring Eddie to kill. In any case, Eddie takes the job for $300 a month, plus room and board at the upstate New York plantation.

The maid at the estate is a busty babe named Joan, with whom Eddie used to consort. Now that they’re living under the same roof in the servant’s quarters, they could resume their strictly-physical relationship. Seems simple enough until we learn that sweet Joan has marriage on her mind.

Not so fast! Eddie meets the lady of the house, Mrs. Jennings (“Call me Kitty”), and she’s a sex-on-fire, hot-pants-wearing minx. Then there’s Carole, Mr. Jennings’ conniving daughter, an irresistible sexpot with impossibly big breasts and a small waist. For his part, Eddie finds himself with a set of burning attractions that could cost him his livelihood.

Eventually, Eddie finds himself in the middle of the rivalry between Carole and Kitty for eventual control of the plantation. Eddie is pressured on multiple fronts into taking action that would provide him financial independence and a substantially upgraded sex life — fueled by his ambition and untamed lust for a trio of pulp fiction femme fatales.

Hitt’s novels often contain interesting details about the protagonist’s careers, and this one is no exception. In addition to being titillated, you’ll also walk away with a master’s degree in the art of trapping wild animals. Hitt underscores the cruelty of the practice and uses this as a means to define the characters and their motivations. This is unusually smart writing for a sleaze paperback and the reason why Hitt was so much better than his contemporaries.

Despite being derivative of James M. Cain’s work, Untamed Lust remains one of Hitt’s best novels. The ending was a little tidy for me, but the ride along the way was pure melodrama for imperfect men. Recommended. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE. Get the eBook version HERE.

Killer

Before he was science-fiction royalty, Robert Silverberg was a cranking out cheap genre paperbacks to make ends meet. His output included sleaze novels like 1965’s Passion Killer — originally released under the pseudonym of Don Elliott when the author was 29. After discovering that the book is actually a tidy bit of crime noir fiction, Stark House Press imprint Black Gat books has re-released the paperback under the name Killer.

Lee Floyd has just arrived in Manhattan after being hired to kill Howard Gorman’s wife, Ethyl. You see, Howard has recently met a girl named Marie and has decided to upgrade. As such, he needs Hitman Lee’s help in disposing of this Ethyl situation.

For her part, Marie is happy to allow a wealthy sucker like Howard to cover her living expenses, but she finds her benefactor rather repugnant. Nevertheless, having one client paying her bills is easier than working full-time as a call girl. All things being equal, Marie enjoys lesbian sex and Silverberg pulls no 1965 punches in his erotic writing. This is definitely a sex book, and those graphic scenes comprise probably half the novel. You can decide if that’s good news or bad news.

There are some interesting crime noir manipulations and double-crosses among the sex scenes that made Killer a lot of fun to read. It’s not the top-tier hitman fiction we periodically receive from Max Allan Collins and Lawrence Block, but it’s light-years better than most 1960s sleaze fiction. Many authors aren’t proud of their output in this genre, but I’m glad Silverberg has made peace with his past because Killer is a winner. Not a masterpiece, but certainly worth your time. 

Get the book HERE

Boy-Lover

Charles Boeckman (1920-2015), a celebrated jazz musician, authored short stories for the pulps and digests through the mid 20^th century. He also wrote paperbacks including mystery, western and suspense. In his autobiography, Pulp Jazz: The Charles Boeckman Story, Boeckman elaborates on the name Alex Carter, a pseudonym that he used to author a number of racy romance novels. In the book, he says he didn't want readers to connect these novels directly to him. He learned of Robert Turner, an author for the publisher Beacon, spending a night in jail for writing “pornography.” He didn't want to experience the same fate. It's a real shame that readers couldn't connect Boy-Lover to Boeckman considering its quality. It was published by Beacon in 1963 with a painted cover by Clement Micarelli.

Babs is in her late 20s, has a ravenous sexual appetite, and is mired in the suburbs with her tired, complacent husband Art. Instead of providing Babs hours of ecstasy, Art's idea of a good time is hosting tame neighborhood parties, discussing mechanical issues concerning  the couple's car, or just sleeping like a log. Babs is craving the sins of the flesh and has horny housewife eyes on a young mechanic named Jack.

Jack recently graduated high school and is now working at the local garage. When he delivers Bab's repaired car to her house, he is shocked to find her sunbathing in the nude while Art is at work. Babs slaps the seduction on thick as the experience increases from lemonade to dancing to bedroom antics as Jack loses his virginity to this gorgeous married woman in grand style. But, as you can imagine, Babs and Jack aren't fulfilled with just one encounter. Soon, they are sneaking out to do the nasty in abandoned parking lots, the closed mechanic's shop, and eventually into an apartment outside of town. It's here that Babs and Jack are shocked when their affair is revealed.

Boy-Lover isn't explicit by any stretch of the imagination. It's all PG-13 if it was released today. Boeckman's novel works exceptionally well as a character study – Jack as the inexperienced youth experiencing an accelerated maturity and Babs as the frustrated housewife that feels no purpose. The two need something from each other, but it isn't an emotional connection. Their responses to changes in their lives is met by sex – simply sex, nothing more and nothing less.

Boeckman takes readers through the rocky relationship that Jack and Babs feel. We feel Jack's frustration as a mechanic in a new town - the low wages, the impending poverty, the scorching cement – and sympathize. In many ways, this 1963 glimpse at the lower-class hasn't changed. It's timeless as these problems are eternal for generations of Americans. Jack contemplates the money left over on payday and has to decide if his last savings should be spent on a movie and popcorn. Alternatively, the upper middle-class Babs realizes what blue-collar money is worth. She is used to expensive cars, fine dining, and the ability to shop for high-quality wine and clothes. She faces a new awakening under Jack's small, but hard-earned, salary.

Boy-Lover is way better than it ever has a right to be. The cover is gorgeous, but it doesn't do the author or the publisher any real justice. This is just a fantastic novel that makes you feel a responsibility to the characters. On the last page I felt the impact of these two lovers and the impromptu life they led. I felt their emotional connection, their financial struggle, and the challenges they faced in an unconventional relationship. In a way, this is Boeckman's take on youth, the end of innocence, and the daunting threat of impending adulthood. I really enjoyed it and I think you will too. Recommended! 

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Whip of Desire

March Hastings was one of a number of pseudonyms used by author Sally Singer (b. 1930). The New York native specialized in erotic fiction and wrote over 20 novels between 1958 to 1976. These vintage paperbacks have become collector's items and often fetch prices over $100. Thankfully, Cutting Edge has been reprinting Singer's work as affordable paperbacks and ebooks. I read her 1961 lesbian novel The Outcasts and found it enjoyable enough to warrant a revisit of the author's work. I chose the Cutting Edge reprint of Whip of Desire. It was originally published by Midwood in 1962.

The book stars Fred Boyer, a 28 year old man originally from Alaska. He now lives in New York, plays the piano and has a pregnant wife named Mindy. In the opening chapter, Fred is at an employment agency hoping to find work. He's provided instructions to a theater ran by a gorgeous woman named Eve. Instantly, Fred and Eve connect and in a matter of days they establish a business that's funded by Eve's wealthy father. Fred will compose and perform music and Eve will put together a stage act. 

Later, readers learn that Eve's father crashed the family plane years ago, an accident that killed Eve's sister and injured her. Eve feels she is somehow responsible for her sister's death and harms herself frequently – pain as her penance for surviving. As Fred soon realizes, Eve craves rough sex and demands to be dominated. Eventually, Fred's heated desires for Eve erupts in a frenzy of pleasure and pain. He's liberated from the financial stress of being a husband and an expectant father by forcefully taking Eve. She pleasurably gains the abuse she feels she deserves while he is freed from life's cumbersome shackles by becoming her lover. But, Fred learns there is another man in Eve's life, a man so abusive that he leaves Eve broken, bloody, and nearly dead.

As an intriguing romance novel of the 1960s, Whip of Desire introduces some surprising elements. Both Fred and Eve were dynamic characters and the story was serviceable enough. I think Singer is a terrific writer, but she really finds her element in the sex scenes. Her descriptions are never graphic, but really convey the emotions and physical collision between these lovers. Mindy's mistrust in Fred, Eve's backstory, the business venture, and Eve's domineering “other man” made for a propulsive, fully developed story that I found entertaining. 

If you enjoy heated, erotic mid-20th century romance novels, then Whip of Desire will surely be a real pleasure to read. Recommended. Buy a copy HERE.

Paperback Warrior Primer - Orrie Hitt

Orrie Hitt (1916-1975) was a suburban family man in upper New York who was quietly one of the most successful creators of sleaze paperbacks in the 1950s and 1960s. His plots were largely noir fiction with a heavy dash of non-graphic sexuality and bad decisions driven by greed and lust. During his life, he authored upwards of 150 novels before dying penniless. As a tribute to his life and literary work, Paperback Warrior offers an extensive look at author Orrie Hitt:

Hitt was born in Colchester, New York in 1916. When he was 11 years old, his father committed suicide. Hitt obtained a job at a hunting lodge in upstate New York to make ends meet while his mother worked as a hotel chambermaid. Meanwhile, Hitt was a high school student. As a sophomore, he advised his teacher that he wanted to be a writer, and his teacher did what all good teachers do – she shattered his dreams by telling him that he was never going to make it as a writer because his English language skills were unsatisfactory and that he was too much of a dreamer.

While working at the lodge, Hitt gained hunting and outdoors experience. Hitt sold his first articles about hunting as a high schooler to hobbyist magazines. When he became a senior, he and his former English teacher both submitted articles to an educational book company. Hitt's article about shooting was accepted, and his teacher’s submission was rejected. 

After Hitt's mother died, he became an orphan. Later, he joined the Army at age 24 and served in some capacity in WW2. After his military service, Hitt married Charlotte Tucker on Valentines Day, 1943, and together they eventually had four daughters. In the years following the war, Orrie worked as an insurance salesman, a radio disc jockey, a roofing and timing salesman, a frozen food salesman, and a handyman. He had about 16 jobs during that post-war period, and he wasn’t writing much because he needed the steady paycheck to feed his wife and growing family of daughters. During that period of time, he relocated to Iceland for a year to work at a hotel. This job afforded him a lot of downtime, so he used it to write his first novel, I'll Call Every Monday, published by Avon in 1953. 

It’s clear that Hitt was a fan of James M. Cain, and a lot of his books were re-workings of Cain’s Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice. The formula is that a drifter falls in love with a married woman. Together, they conspire to kill her heel of a husband so they can obtain the husband’s money. Of course, things go sideways, as they do anytime you fall for a murderous wife. That’s the template used by lots of writers in the 1950s, and Hitt went to that well many times in his own writing.

Hitt returned to upstate New York and became a full-time novelist. He set his manual Remington Royal typewriter up on the kitchen table and worked the entire day cranking out 90 words per minute. He lived on iced coffee and Winston cigarettes and he wrote book after book. He was a faithful husband and attentive father while all day, every day, he wrote about guys who were duplicitous heels who couldn’t keep it in their pants. In real life, Hitt was nothing like the characters he wrote about in his books. 

Early in his career, Hitt developed relationships with “adults only” publishers like Beacon and Midwood who bought and published his books. Hitt found a good niche for himself as a writer of sexy fiction – often sexy crime fiction – but his publishers played up the sex and down the noir. Hitt was trying to make a living, so he kept writing the books he knew how to write and receiving advances of $250 to $1,000 per book for his paperbacks. His sleaze publishers gave him a lot of freedom to write what he wanted because they knew that they were just going to slap a silly sleaze cover on his books. 

Between the years of 1953 and 1970, Hitt had about 150 original novels published under his own name and a variety of pseudonyms. There is a robust collector’s market for sleaze fiction, and his original paperbacks tend to get top dollar. The most affordable options are the reprint houses like Stark House Press, Prologue Press, and Automat Press. 

Here's a "buyer's guide" on some of Hitt's novels:

If you want a James M. Cain style novel about the protagonist falling for a young woman married to an older rich guy where they plot to murder the husband:

- The Cheaters (1960)
- Dial M for Man (1962)
- Two of a Kind (1960)

Novels starring a young woman trying to survive by using her body to pay the bills: 

- Campus Tramp (1962)
- Four Women (1961)
- Trapped (1954)

Novels that expose the behind the scenes world of prostitutes and their tragic origin stories:

- Trailer Tramp (1957)
- Nude Doll (1963)
- Naked Model (1962)
- Girl of the Streets (1959)
- Party Doll (1961)

Hitt also wrote under several pseudonyms including Kay Adams, Joe Black, Charles Verne, and Nicky Weaver. Between 1953 and 1960, Orrie Hitt was producing about 20 books per year. His productivity slowed down gradually thereafter. By 1964, he was down to about four books a year, then three, then one. He essentially just ran out of ideas. The book contracts disappeared and his money ran out. A lifetime of working 12 hour days at his kitchen table drinking iced coffee and smoking cigarettes caught up with him. In 1979, he died in debt in a veteran’s hospital at age 59. 

I'll Call Every Monday

Orrie Hitt (1916-1975) was a suburban family man in Upstate New York who was quietly one of the most successful creators of sleaze paperbacks in the 1950s and 1960s. His plots were largely noir fiction with a heavy dash of non-graphic sexuality and bad decisions driven by greed and lust. During his life, he authored upwards of 150 novels before dying penniless. His second published book, 1953’s I’ll Call Every Monday, remains in-print today.

In the 1950s, the life insurance and annuity business was a different animal. Policies were sold by door-to-door salesmen who were also responsible for collecting the regular - often weekly - premiums from the customer. That’s the setup in I’ll Call Every Monday, and our narrator, Nicky Weaver, is a door-to-door cold canvasser and a premium collector in a town called Devans with a population of 15,000. 

Early in the novel, Nicky meets two very different dames. The first is Sally. She’s a maid at the hotel Nicky occupies, but she wants to be a torch singer and nightclub hoochie-coochie girl. Anyway, Nicky is interested in her for all the normal reasons that guys get interested in cute babes. He eventually sets her up with a job at a cabin resort and a place to stay. It’s the beginning of a convenient sexual relationship, and Nicky really seems to like the arrangement. 

The second woman is Mrs. Irene Schofield, a busty sexpot from the nice side of town who Nicky meets when canvassing a neighborhood to sell some policies. She has a forty-inch bust, and you just know she’s gonna be trouble from the first time she appears on the page. Nicky tries to resist her charms the best he can. After all, he’s got Sally holed up in a cabin not far away, and Irene is a married woman. 

After relenting to his base instincts, Nicky quickly becomes a busy guy like any fella would juggling two dames. Mr. Schofield travels to New York every Monday, giving Nicky and Irene some alone time at her place. Meanwhile, he’s got pretty Sally waiting for him at the resort cabins. It’s a nice schedule until the idea of insuring and murdering Irene’s husband is raised. The plot then takes on similarities to James M. Cain’s Double Indemnity, but it’s still a lot of fun to read with a unique twist ending. 

The author gets into quite a bit of detail surrounding the ins-and-outs of the door-to-door insurance game. You can decide if you find that stuff compelling or if you want to just breeze past that stuff. The sex scenes are genuinely erotic without being graphic, and Nicky is just the horndog protagonist that a reader of these books can appreciate. Overall, the paperback was an above-average Orrie Hitt affair and a good place to start for readers unfamiliar with his work. Recommended. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Like Wild

Eric Allen (1916-1986) was a travel writer whose work appeared in magazines and newspapers - mostly in Oklahoma and Arkansas - during the 1960s. He also wrote upwards of 30 books - mostly westerns - and served as the president of the Western Writers of America in 1969 and 1970. His fourth novel was a Florida-based hardboiled swamp noir paperback called Like Wild originally published in 1963 by Monarch Books and currently available as a $3 ebook.

Quint is a soldier returning from overseas to resume his life in the Florida swamp town of Chadd City. His intention is to start a business selling wholesale lumber and marry Trudy, the sweetheart he left behind before his deployment. While on the bus ride home through the mangrove thickets and gator bogs, a sultry seatmate with swelling breasts is being super-flirtatious with Quint.

Before Quint joined the Army and left Chadd City, he was a pathetic cracker from the swamp, but Uncle Sam matured him into a man with ambition and a plan to make something of himself. His home is run by a powerful and corrupt town boss, and we quickly learn that the flirty dame on the bus is the boss’ wife returning from the beach. Quint has a particular axe to grind with the powerful local who was responsible for sending Quint’s father to prison where the old man eventually died.

However, the core drama here is about land. Quint owns many acres of cypress wilderness swampland that he wants to harvest for his lumber business. Meanwhile, the town boss has his eyes on that land for his own purposes, and his lusty wife is caught in the middle with her own agenda. The struggle between the men is a tense powder keg leading to an inevitable explosion of winner-take-all violence.

As if one femme fatale isn’t enough, Like Wild gives us a second: Trudy’s 17 year-old kid sister Lorrie, a saloon waitress who is hot to trot for Quint since his return. In the swamplands, 17 is practically an old maid, and Lorrie is not a woman who intends to let her best years go to waste.

Allen is an amazingly good writer, and I marvel that this compelling crime novel was once packaged as a low-end sleaze paperback. The author’s descriptions of hand-to-hand fistfights are among the best I’ve ever read, and the characters are vivid and fully-formed. Most swamp noir is pure dreck, but Like Wild is a definite winner.

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Meg

At the beginning of his writing career, Robert Silverberg wrote several sleaze paperbacks for Midwood using the pseudonym Loren Beauchamp. Stark House Press has reprinted two of these early classics in one volume including his 1960 paperback, Meg.

As the novel opens, teenage Meg Tandler is losing her virginity in the backseat of a car with a sexually unremarkable local boy who plied her with beer before going all the way. Meg is a bombshell with full breasts and sensuous hips - a Marilyn Monroe type - and she knows she wants more from life than Idaho could ever offer. So, it’s off to New York to find her fortune in show business.

On Broadway, Meg visits a low-end theatrical agent named Max Bonaventura seeking representation. Max talks a good game and Meg signs with him in exchange for 25% of her future earnings. You see exactly where this is headed when Max has Meg get stark naked at their first meeting, so he can inspect the merchandise. After seeing what she has to offer, Max lays it out like this:

"I'll tell you what to dress and how to look. I'll teach you to sing and act and dance. I’ll tell you when to take your clothes off and when to put them on. I'll tell you when to go to bed with people. You're going to have to do some sleeping around, get me? Nobody gets to the top without paying for it. But you don't let anybody touch you who can’t do you some good."

Driven by ambition, Meg makes peace with Max’s plan to leverage her sex appeal and sleep her way into show business and up the ladder of fame. Despite his cynical amorality, Max is a delightfully colorful character and the main reason I kept turning the pages in this unlikely compelling paperback. The novel’s plot pretty much follows the ups and downs (and ins and outs) of Meg’s career as a sexpot. Because it’s a 1960 paperback, the sex scenes aren’t graphic at all, but Silverberg treats the reader to pages and pages on the allures of Meg’s impossible-to-ignore rack. The writing is predictably solid and Silverberg really knows how to make breasts come alive as central characters of a novel.

Meg rises through the ranks of show business thanks to Max’s never ending supply of publicity stunts, and this makes for a fun and quick read. It’s a predictable cautionary tale about the cost of uninhibited ambition and a pleasant way to kill a couple hours in the summer sun.

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Machine (aka Do It to Me)

Fire/Machine is a new reprint from Stark House Press featuring two novels by Barry N. Malzberg. The two were first printed by Midwood under the pseudonym Mel Johnson. Along with Beacon, Midwood was one of the largest publishers of sleazy books and often featured prominent authors like Donald Westlake and Lawrence Block. Fire was originally known as Instant Sex (1968) and Machine as Do It to Me (1969). Since I love pinball machines, I decided to read Machine. Its premise of a lowly pinball arcade owner struggling with an impending crackdown spoke to me more than the invite to porn fiction.

Malzberg introduces Machine in a conversational fashion. Similar to Stephen King's Colorado Kid, the narrative is basically a guy named Mike Jennings sitting with you, the reader, over drinks. You're in the smoky bar buying drinks for Jennings as he explains his turbulent life over a three-day period in Syracuse, N.Y. While there are signs that Jennings has a criminal history, he advises that none of this is essential to his story. Just the 3 days.

Jennings borrows ten-thousand dollars and takes over the rights to a pinball arcade. Jennings rents the building and these machines, some of which are the smoothest and most difficult games east of Chicago. With a location near the University of Syracuse (Malzberg's alma-mater), the likelihood of students slipping nickels into the machines at a steady pace is fairly high. However, it is 1969 and arcade machines are still considered the work of the devil.

Prior to the mid-1970s, most cities had strict ordinances that denounced pinball machines as illegal gambling devices that corrupted the youth of America. Often illegal machines were seized by law-enforcement and destroyed. To protect himself from any grief, Jennings buys a low-level protection ring that provides some protection from the city. When two cops come in and threaten Jennings with the crackdown, he makes an appeal to his protection plan. They warn him that he is safe, but Jennings begins to suspect that his arcade empire is on the brink of collapse. 

Machine is laced with sex as Jennings is pleasured by a college co-ed named Sandra. As expected, there are graphic scenes that generally consume three to four pages. Jennings is struggling with his relationship with Sandra - she desires commitment. Hindering relations is the appearance of Jennings’ ex-wife Barbara, which obviously translates into more sex pages. Malzberg has a unique ability to compare passionate sex with pinball players fascinated by the sweet rhythm of the machine. While I skipped out on most of the sex, I enjoyed the comparison. 

By and large, Barry Malzberg's presentation is cumbersome. His signature is extremely long paragraphs with very little line breaks throughout. Stark House, and the author himself, agree that the machine is not the best portrayal of Malzberg's work. Many point to his sci-fi novels as real highlights while others suggest his action-adventure men's series Lone Wolf is the best. Machine wasn't particularly brilliant, but I enjoyed the elements of crime fiction enough for it to be worth it. You owe it to yourself to try out a novel by Malzberg. He's a truly unique voice. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE

The Outcasts

Author Sally Singer (b. 1930) utilized a number of pseudonyms to author lesbian pulp fiction in the mid-20th Century. The most popular of these pseudonyms was March Hastings, a name she used to author 11 novels from 1958 through 1969. My first experience with the author is her 1961 novel The Outcasts, written as March Hasting and originally published by Midwood. The novel has now been reprinted for modern audiences by Cutting Edge Books.

Jennie is a twenty-something New York woman married to an aspiring artist named Brian. They have had a rocky marriage stemming from a failed pregnancy but remain together to avoid an embarrassing divorce. Brian's sexual urges have led him to months of infidelity while Jennie struggles to control her personal desires and sexual frustrations with Brian. As the novel begins, Brian rapes Jennie before instructing her to accompany him to an art show where his work is being shown.

It's at the art show where Jennie is introduced to Brian's business advocate, a luscious, sexually-charged woman named Leigh. In forced conversation, Jennie learns from Leigh that she has had sex with Brian, thus the personal interest in his below-average painting talents. Leigh and her husband are extremely wealthy and they invite both Brian and Jennie to the couple's swanky seaside mansion for the weekend. Jennie, caving to her desire to learn more about Leigh, accepts the proposal despite her white-hot anger with Brian.

As the wet and wild weekend getaway unfolds, Jennie spirals further into her sexually repressed feelings. The first night at the mansion, Jennie witnesses Leigh and Brian engaged in sexual foreplay, a not-so-shocking discovery that leads Jennie to pleasure herself while watching Brian from a window. Jennie's instinct is that Leigh is toying with Brian, perhaps using him as some sort of bizarre and ritualistic way to attract Jennie. Needless to say, The Outcasts takes a turn into full-on lesbian affairs as Leigh and Jennie realize they are both sexually starving from frustrated heterosexual relationships.

The Outcasts, as a 1961 seedy paperback, isn't remotely graphic by today's standards, but Singer writes in a provocative way that is visually stimulating and somehow still timeless. Regardless of whether you like lesbian pulp-fiction (newsflash: this is my first foray into it), The Outcasts has this riveting subplot that involves Leigh's freakish husband. As the novel ascended from kinky foreplay into heightened arousal, Singer successfully incorporates an element that is mostly found in Gothic Romance – the beautiful young woman trapped in the mansion of doom. Leigh's odd basement combined with her equally odd husband added a sense of panic and fear to what would otherwise be a tame lesbian romance. I believe this additional element upsold me from liking to loving this book. Based on sheer reading pleasure, I'll be reading more of Sally Singer's literary work.

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Tokey Wedge #01 - Nympho Lodge

Jack Lynn was a pen name for a writer named Max Van DerVeer who authored 22 books starring a diminutive private eye named Tokey Wedge between the years 1959 and 1965. A new reprint house called Grizzly Pulp is reprinting the Tokey Wedge books as mass-market paperbacks printed on wood pulp paper beginning with the first installment, Nympho Lodge - originally published in 1959 by Novel Books.

The Tokey Wedge paperbacks are light-hearted - yet hardboiled - private detective stories that don’t take themselves too seriously. Tokey himself is 5’6” and 140 pounds. His narration and the plotting reminds me of Richard Prather’s Shell Scott books. In this case, Tokey is hired as a bodyguard for a wealthy woman named Janice going through an ugly divorce and receiving cryptic threatening letters. The splitting couple both live at a resort they co-own called The Wagon Wheel. Tokey moves into the resort, so he can be closer to his client and determine who, if anyone, is trying to kill her.

At the lodge, we quickly meet the Nymphos. To be fair, it not clear that any of them have been clinically diagnosed with nymphomania, but every woman Tokey encounters at the lodge is beautiful, stacked, and hot to trot. By 2020 standards, the novel has some retrograde attitudes toward women as sex objects. However, the book is pure escapist fiction from 1959, so no actual women were objectified in it’s creation. You should know by now if this is your thing or not. The paperback is sexier than most 1959 crime novels but nowhere close to graphic or explicit by today’s standards.

Amid the flirty hijinks and sexual innuendos, there is a decent mystery to be solved at Nympho Lodge, and Tokey proves himself to be a competent, funny, and tough private detective. At times, it felt like a dirty Agatha Christie book with a finite number of people in a lodge getting killed off one by one while our intrepid investigator gets laid and solves the mystery. For comparison purposes, I enjoyed spending 174 big-font pages with Tokey Wedge far more than I’ve ever liked a Shell Scott paperback. Nympho Lodge isn’t a mystery masterpiece, but it’s definitely a lot of sexy fun.

Grizzly Pulp did a marvelous job packaging the physical product of this paperback. The pulp paper is soft and readable. The novel comes with a removable black cover masking the lusty sleaze art, so you can read on a crowded city bus without inviting the side-eye from squares. My only criticism is that there were lots of line-break errors in the text and several other typos. It was nothing that stopped me from enjoying the story, but the Grizzly Pulp proofreader shouldn’t rely on optical character recognition programs to do all the work.

Mostly, I’m thrilled that an enterprising, grassroots publisher has brought Tokey Wedge back to life. This is a fun series that deserves a second chance at building a readership. Recommended.

Buy a copy HERE

The Captive

Between 1969 and 1973, John J. Flannery (1934-1987) served as the Chief Secretary to Massachusetts Governor Francis W. Sargent. Before that, he quietly wrote erotic thrillers for Midwood Books under the pseudonym of John Turner including the kinky 1963 abduction thriller, The Captive.

The paperback doesn’t waste any time getting into the action. It’s Friday evening in Suburban Boston, and Josephine is abducted by a strange man with a gun in a restaurant parking lot. He forces himself into her car and tells her to drive home. We quickly learn that his name is Arthur Dawson, and he escaped from a New Hampshire prison two days earlier.

The dynamic between Josephine and Arthur is interesting. She’s more concerned about her reputation in the community than she is for her own safety. As such, her initial plan is to comply with her captor in hopes that he doesn’t harm her, gets a meal, and moves onward without her. Of course, it doesn’t work out that way.

Because it’s a Midwood book, there’s lots of sexual tension that arises between Josephine and Arthur. She’s a virgin with a big rack. He hasn’t been with a woman in nine years. You get the picture. Eventually, he takes her on the road to evade the cops, and a romantic interest develops. In fact, The Captive is more of a well-written romance than a violent thriller or a sex-drenched sleaze paperback.

The Captive was compelling, but there wasn’t much meat on the bones. It’s a quick read and never dull - just insubstantial. If you can find it cheap, you may like it, but certainly don’t spend too much on this lightweight distraction of a novel. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Dial "M" for Man

Orrie Hitt is often dismissed as a sleaze fiction author, but I think that’s largely unfair. His paperbacks were certainly packaged as tawdry sex novels, but the first thing a horny reader will notice is the almost complete lack of graphic sex. You’ll also probably notice that he was often an outstanding writer whose plots veered heavily into the moral ambiguity of a femme fatale crime-noir story. Case in point: Dial “M” for Man. The 1962 release has been reprinted by Stark House as a double along with Hitt’s The Cheaters.

Hob Sampson is a TV repairman who is called out for a repair job. The lady of the house is named Doris, and she’s a real dish. Her way-older husband - Mr. Condon - is a crooked real estate developer who also serves on the board of directors at the bank that just rejected Sampson for a loan. He seems to be going out of his way to make Sampson’s life miserable. Upon arrival at the house, the seductive Doris is wearing a skimpy bathing suit, and her husband isn’t home. She’s super flirty, and Sampson is a man who knows what he likes.

You know and I know what eventually happens. Sampson isn’t immediately able to give her the tube she needs, so he agrees to come back to take care of her while Mr. Condon is out of town. There’s a lot of interpersonal stuff between Sampson and his virginal quasi-girlfriend and his deadbeat buddy that rounds the story out and gives Sampson the motivation to have Doris for himself.

If the story of a TV repairman plotting to kill a rich guy for his money and sexy wife sounds familiar, you’re not alone. It was also the plot to Gil Brewer’s paperback The Vengeful Virgin from four years earlier. In all fairness, Brewer’s novel was just a re-working of James M. Cain’s Double Indemnity, and the femme fatale story structure has been copied countless times since. While Hitt makes the story his own, he still probably should have made the narrator a plumber or a carpenter to make his borrowing of the plot structure more opaque.

As is often the case in Orrie Hitt novels, the reader learns a lot about the main character’s chosen profession. I find this stuff fascinating, and I now feel like I have a Masters Degree in TV retailing, reception and repair. In 1962, Hitt notably predicted that cable TV would be the future of America. (He did not, however, foresee Netflix Streaming.)

Dial “M” for Man was a total blast to read. The first-person narration from Sampson gave the reader a palpable sense of the lust and greed that leads an otherwise honorable man to make some deadly decisions. Hitt’s ending was also pitch perfect. With 148 books in his writing career, this is an author who should be viewed as a master of his lowbrow genre, and I’m happy that there are reprint houses like Stark House keeping his name alive.

Buy a copy of this book HERE

Swamp Nymph

Swamp noir was a popular American sub-genre of the 1950s and 1960s born from the idea that the rural backwoods was teeming with sexy, duplicitous babes seeking to take advantage of city slickers who crossed their paths. In 1962, sleaze-fiction maven John Burton Thompson (1911-1994) got into the act with Swamp Nymph, a short novel that has recently been reprinted by Cutting Edge Books. 

Charles Carraway III is a 30 year-old wealthy scion of a chemical company who just caught his wife showering with her tennis partner in his mansion filled with servants. He responds in kind by forming a sexual relationship with his Swedish maid - a coupling that, for various reasons, can never be more than a fling. To escape all the problems of the world, he heads south to Louisiana in his private plane for a much-needed vacation. 

The Swamp Nymph in question isn’t introduced until well into the paperback. Her name is Shayne, and she’s a 19 year-old beguiling beauty living near the Amite River in rural Louisiana. She was sexually assaulted at a young age and has avoided the company of men ever since despite a desire for love and intimacy. Thompson does a nice job of making Shayne sympathetic and attractive to male readers who will want to rescue this girl from her own past. 

For nearly the whole novel, the plot toggles between the Charles story and the Shayne story. The book is really not about their romance because they don’t even meet until 85% into the novel. The entire plot is just a series of life events and romantic near-misses that eventually bring them to the same swamp community at the same time. 

It’s hard to tell from the cover of these swamp paperbacks if a particular book is a crime-noir novel in disguise (like Harry Whittington’s Backwoods Tramp) or just a standard soft-core sex story. Swamp Nymph is definitely not a crime novel, and the sex scenes are so tepid that they’d hardly raise an eyebrow today. It’s really the story of When Charles Met Shayne and it takes a pretty basic, rather lengthy and mostly unremarkable route to get there. 

Thompson was a better writer than his genre deserved, but his plotting in Swamp Nymph was a slow road to nowhere. I didn’t hate the book, but life is short. You deserve to be reading better books than this one.

Buy a copy of this book HERE