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DEATH'S SWEET SONG What is it about the petite blonde? When Paula Sheldon and her husband Karl pull into Joe Hooper's rundown gas pump motel outside Creston, Hooper can't take his eyes off her. And he sure can't figure why a classy guy like Sheldon would check into his dump of a place. But that night he gets an earful when he overhears the Sheldons discussing a robbery with a local ex-con. Hooper is desperate to get away from Creston, even more desperate to spend time with Sheldon's wife. He takes a chance and convinces the Sheldons that he'd make a better partner. And everything goes smoothly until the old watchman tries to play hero. It's his own damn fault that Hooper has to shoot him. Paula likes a man who knows how to take charge, and she likes what she sees in Hooper. It's enough to make a guy go a little crazy--crazy enough to do anything... WHOM GODS DESTROY Roy Foley has hated Lola ever since she laughed at him in high school--the poor kid from across the Oklahoma tracks who was filled with ambition and dared to declare his love. Now he's back in town with some scores to settle. By chance he runs into Sid Gardner, another Burk Street kid, who's running alcohol in their dry state and making pretty good money at it. Roy quickly joins him. But Roy also has eyes for Sid's wife, Vida, with her long white-blonde hair and bewitching manner. Together, Roy figures that he and Vida can take over the booze sales from Barney Seaward, the top dog in Big Prairie, and maybe he can get back at Lola, who is now married to the local D.A., Seaward's kept man. Roy has it all figured out--once he's got Sid out of the way, Barney will be next. But hate is a poor substitute for ambition, and Roy has a long way to go to get ahead of Lola.

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9781933586649

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This may be the best crime fiction novel that Gold Medal published in the 50s. It's a story of how things can spiral out of control once you take that step--and you can't go back. -August West, Vintage Hardboiled Reads on Death's Sweet Song His bad guys have always struck me as real card-carrying members of the criminal class. They aren't mythic. They just want money or sex and power. -Ed Gorman's Blog The real thing. Uncluttered prose, smooth, and assured, with just the right amount of description to make things real and immediate. -Bill Crider, Mystery*File

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