In the heart of New Orleans lies a dilapidated old building. It used to be a printing press. It will be made into more.
Melanie Ann-Marie Moore is sick and tired, and glad she got fired from Hermann’s Burlesque. The “Living Doll” routine got old. Besides, the fat bastard wanted her to undress for men because “that’s what girls do these days.” To hell with him. Melanie Ann-Marie Moore don’t take her clothes off for nobody. Rich white men or not, she is a lady and a lady she will act. A lady with bills to pay and a killer that remains at large and unmasked.
The Quarter Killer, they’re calling him. A bandaged man that kills only within the French Quarter.
If only she had more of a clue, enough of an idea to know what the hell she was looking for she could blow this case wide open. She does that, and she’ll enough money to throw in Bertrand Lautrec’s extortionist face. Then she can buy The Owler and maybe, just maybe, become a real reporter. Instead of an underpaid secretary to a rich southerner with a snub nose and mean eyes.
A letter from a Chicago lawyer may be the answer to her prayers.
Mickey O’Harr is on the top of his game. The Shifter Fights are everything he needs to pay off his old man’s debts. A little gin running from some boys up in Chicago on the side doesn’t hurt, either. Earns him brownie points with Capone’s boys. Maybe he’ll be a made man, then the real money will roll in.
A bandaged man nearly puts an end to his plans.
Something cracked within Jacob Lautrec that morning. That night she promised she would marry him. The next morning she lie in the Ponchartrain, floating face down in its inky black waters.
First his sister and then his father. Two deaths. Two tragic circumstances, one mortuary that needs a new doctor. George Reddington just wants to bury his family and leave the past to rest.
Bertrand Lautrec has to find it. That damnable little book Thomas kept. Everything is in that book. His ruin is in that little book.
Thomas Reddington has something to tell the world. Something Melanie is going to have to journey to Chicago to find out. A run in with Al Capone and his gang leaves a scar, a woman dogging her every footstep has her running, a black train that leads to nowhere is her coffin.
Four lives hang in the balance, and someone is going to great lengths to see that she never makes it back to The Big Easy alive.
The year is 1925.
The place is New Orleans.
Prohibition is king. Scandal is ripe. Murder happens at midnight.
Book One of the Timepiece Tales