Los Angeles, 1954 ... Gangsters, crime, boxing – and romance ...
Jimmy Doherty, a hard-luck orphan from the south side of Chicago, was mentored in the sweet science of boxing by Father Tim Brophy, the Battling Priest of St. Vincent's Asylum for Boys. Jimmy’s fists were good enough to take him to LA where he has begun his rise up the local fight-cards. He has big plans to be a contender and even bigger plans for Lindy – his trainer’s only daughter, who's sweeter than apple pie and harder to resist.
But when Lindy is arrested for killing a boxer with ties to gangster Mickey Cohen, Jimmy is forced to join forces with the arresting detective – who would like to do much more with Lindy than put her in handcuffs – in a desperate search for the real killer.
Love can be murder – in the ring and out ...
Excerpt from Ladies Night:
I hope you’ll enjoy my favorite excerpt from “Ladies Night.” Lindy’s just been arrested for the murder of another boxer, a competitor of her husband Jimmy.
Even in the dark, Lindy could see their make-up hadn’t survived the day. Most of it had floated south on their faces like a slow-moving river making them look like sad circus clowns. Daisy especially. Or had she been crying?
“So, if you ain’t one of us, who’d you mug or rub out?” Daisy said.
“I was arrested for the murder of Rocko Russo, the fighter.”
“Ain’t no way,” Louella said. “You tellin’ the truth?”
“Yes. Rocko’s dead. But I didn’t kill him.”
“Of course not, honey,” Louella said. “A little thing like you couldn’a hurt a fly let alone that horrible monster. That big brute had some mean muscle on him, went all the way to the bone all right.”
“And a terrible mean fist,” Daisy said, sadness on her make-up smeared face.
Lindy was afraid to ask. She could only guess how they were acquainted with Rocko and she hurt for them.
“So, DeLuca, he’s the one that nabbed you?” Louella said, threading her arms through the bars. “He’s a looker, that one. Um-mmm. That’s right. Mighty fine.”
“You ever do him?” Daisy turned to Louella.
“Nah. He’s a saint. Waiting on Miss Right an all.”
“Say, chickie.” Daisy turned to Lindy. “You and DeLuca ...” Daisy winked.
“What?” Lindy felt the blood drain from her head. “Absolutely not. I’m married.”
“That right?” Louella perked up. “Who’s the lucky man?”
Lindy smiled for the first time in many hours. “He’s a boxer and such a wonderful, handsome man.”
“You don’t say? What’s his name? Maybe I know him.” Her smile was sly.
Lindy hoped she was teasing. “Jimmy Doherty. Won his first bout last Friday night.”
Louella shook her head. “Remember, Daisy. We was with Rocko till nearly midnight after his fight before he ditched us and took off.”
There was a deep sorrow etched on Daisy’s face and for the first time, Lindy saw the remnants of what looked like a mouse under Daisy’s eye. “Oh, yeah. I remember.”
Louella broke the somber mood that fell over the cellblock. “So what now, honey? You just coolin’ your heels in stir with us here big-time mama’s?”
Louella shook her dark head and hooted a bawdy laugh. “That just don’t seem right, a pretty little thing like you accused of murderin’ that no good, dirty snake. Not right at all. DeLuca’ll find out the truth. Yes, sir. Ain’t right. At least that bugger ain’t goin’ hurt us no more.”
What had Rocko done to these two women? Lindy could only imagine and she didn’t like what she thought. She couldn’t understand how women like Daisy and Louella could shame themselves and take up the oldest profession. She wished she could help them, take away their troubles and removed them from the filthy, self-degrading way they had to make a living. But what could she do?
About Carol Malone:
Carol Malone successfully combines her three passions – writing, sports, and romance, in nail-biting, page-turning historical sports stories. She's the very first woman to climb under the ropes of the boxing ring in the male dominated territory of Fight Card, and punched out a mash-up of happily ever after and kick-in-the-pants, fist-pounding action. If not hammering out new tales that entice her readers to scramble into a front row seat for thrilling tales of physical endurance and tender passion, Carol’s reading, watching sports on TV, or hanging with her "end-of-the-world” author husband on the cool coast of California. To talk sports and amour, and learn about Carol's latest book releases, visit Carol on her website: www.carolmalone.net.
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