I'VE GOT A SHORT STORY IN PAUL BRAZILL'S NEW EMAGAZINE, PUNK NOIR MAGAZINE

Hi folks,

CRIME FICTION, DOWN AND OUT BOOKS., FICTION, LES EDGERTON, NOIR, PUNK NOIR MAGAZINE

FICTION EXTRACT: LOVE TUNNEL BY LES EDGERTON

NOVEMBER 14, 2018

(From my novel, THE GENUINE, IMITATION, PLASTIC KIDNAPPING from Down & Out Books) 

An hour later, Tommy and me are sitting on the St. Charles streetcar, at the stop by the zoo down by Club 4141, watching people get on in the front. The last two on are a young tourist couple in matching yellow Bermuda shorts.

“Cool,” Tommy said. “Tourists. They’ll have cash.” He took a drag from his cigarette. He was sitting directly under the “No Smoking” sign, but held it outside the window.

I didn’t disagree. There were maybe fifteen people on board, not counting us and the motorman. This was looking better and better. Might get as much as a couple of thousand out of this crew.

“See that?” Tommy said. I followed his eyes which were locked on the buxom female member of the tourist couple. She was a looker.

“Yeah? So?”

“So this.” He brought his forearm up, pretending to take a bite out of it.

“You wish,” I said, grinning.

“Yeah, well I got something her boyfriend ain’t.”

I laughed out loud. “Right, Tommy. Ugliness. But I think she’s maybe one of those weirdos goes for brains and looks. At least one of those.”

Tommy turned and gave me a look. “I’m talking technique here,” he said. “I got this technique.”

“Technique?”

“Technique.”

“What… you got a cute way of gettin’ on and off?”

“Naw, man,” he said, shaking his head like he can’t believe how dumb I am. “That’s like a big dick. Everybody’s got that.”

I snickered. “I don’t recall you was so blessed in the big wang department, Tommy.”

“Yeah, well I was cold that time. We just got out of the lake, for crissake. See, Pete, being a champion at sex is like being good at basketball. You got to be able to go strong to the hole.”

There was a young gal behind us who I could see was trying to ignore what Tommy was saying. She squirmed in her seat and studied the scenery out the window, them mansions sliding by.

I was dying to know Tommy’s ‘technique’ and asked him.

For the rest of the story, go to Punk Noir Magazine. 

Blue skies,

Les