Ed Lacy: 24 books

Another pulp novel by Ed Lacy involving lurid locations and loose women.

Three women can make a mess out of a man's life. The Right One—Michele, the dark-eyed French beauty who looked like she had just stepped out of a European movie. The Wrong One—Wilma, the red-headed temptress who came along at the wrong time with the right invitation. ...

She had to buy protection --- and her payment was her body. A hard-boiled crime novel by Ed Lacy.

3 women can make a mess out of a man's life. The Right One—Michele, the dark-eyed French beauty who looked like she had just stepped out of a European movie. The Wrong One—Wilma, the red-headed temptress who came along at the wrong time with the right invitation. The Dead One—Francine, whose...

Ed Lacy's lurid, sexy, suspenseful detective thriller.

A pulp detective thriller by Ed Lacy.

A lurid, sexy, pulp detective and mystery tale by Ed Lacy.  Not to be missed by hard-boiled detective fans.

Here was an opportunity he couldn't refuse. One of Lacy's best boxing novels.

They were grandstand observers, living the free and easy life: Charley Martins, ex-pug turned remittance man, whose apartment was wired against intruders; Pascale, 18, ash-blonde, better looking than Bardot, a sex-kitten who worked in her father’s café and played with Americans only; Gil...

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS MATT RANZINO Ex-fighter, ex-cop, ex-private detective. Home after fighting in Korea, he wanted quiet—but a killer had other plans for him. HARRY LOUGHLIN He and Matt had been partners before the war. Was now a professional blackmailer. FLO Sensual blonde Matt had gone with before...

Two seemingly unconnected men--one a recent winner of a contest and the other a police detective--are both gunned down on the same evening. The widow of one hires Barney Harris, an auto mechanic who does detective work on the side, to sniff out police corruption and find her husband's killer.

It was my first day in Paris but the feeling was still with me: like I was getting ready to explode, as if my guts were a lit fuse racing up to my brain. Being cooped up gets me that way, although I was camped in a big room in this swank hotel. Twelve bucks a night and it was the best hotel...

I sat there, waiting in this dull Bronx back yard, the gun in my right pocket, safety off. It was simple... wait till he was on top of me, one shot in the heart... then run across the lot to the car. Sid had an ordinary looking heap; nobody would notice it, or the license number. The license number—that...

Two crooked cops, a red-hot blonde, and a million in cold cash!