I make no bones about the fact that my roots are in the pulps. I loved Doc Savage and the Shadow and the Spider when I was growing up. Tracked down every one I could find. I've told people all my life that I was simply born in the wrong time. I want to write EVERYTHING. Back then you could. Writers went from a science fiction pulp story in the morning to a Western range romance in the afternoon, and then finished off the evening with a story they hoped to sell to Weird Tales.
This is my first foray into writing about pulp writers. It's 1935 and a young, nameless pulp writer who churns out the Lincoln Landry, Space Ranger pulp tales for the science fiction pulps wants to develop a few stories for Black Mask Magazine, which was then home to Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett.
He pairs up with a tough New York police detective named Jim McLane and the action simply turns to pure pulp. Short chapters, action, and dialogue propel the story through to the end with a twist.
I'm putting it up on Kindle now, and it should be pubbed by the end of the week. I'm excited about this one.
Cover is by Keith Birdsong.