Author. Anachronism. Deviant
Logan Black is all these things and more. But you don’t need to know the “more.” All you need to know is that he writes about sex and crime and all the base emotions that happen in between — greed, jealousy, wrath, lust. Always lust.
His writing is a throwback to the Noir ’40s, only no one in the ’40s ever wrote sex scenes like this. If you’re looking for a “happily ever after,” you won’t find it here. The “HEA” is a myth. But passion? Desire? Depravity? These are real. They are the flame in the dark, the promise of salvation and the herald of disaster all at once.
Logan Black doesn’t do erotic romance. He does erotica with a side of murder.
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When your partner is murdered, you’re supposed to do something about it–even if he is a useless drunk. But for private detective Danny Diamond, it’s a little more complicated than that. He’s been sleeping with his partner’s wife.
The womanizing detective is a ready-made fall guy for the murder. To make matters worse, the new widow thinks they’re an item now. His secretary is full of “I told you so’s,” the police are knocking on his door, and a vicious pornographer is convinced Diamond has a set of negatives he’s never even heard of.
The key to unraveling the mystery and saving his own neck lies with his newest client, the beautiful heiress Patricia Carlyle. Patricia is dark and mysterious, the attraction between them electric. She knows far more about sex than any upstanding rich girl should, but is it just a smokescreen hiding an even more disturbing secret, or is she the genuine article?
The detective who swore he’d never be tied down to one woman finds himself ensnared by the heiress’s many talents. But if he lets his libido do the thinking for him, he may not make it out of this one alive. As he digs past the glitzy veneer of post-WWII Los Angeles, he uncovers a sordid world of sex, lies and greed–and with it, a “money shot” worth killing for.