By Neil Russell
"It used to be simply after dead night whilst the lady within the blue diamond necklace fell out of the sky."
In Hollywood, an ex-con motion picture manufacturer, clean out of San Quentin, is fortunate if he can get a valet to take his automobile on the Ivy. Teddy Chessman acquired his personal studio.
Why? simply because Teddy controls crucial movie estate to hit city seeing that brokers have been invented. And hooked up to this anticipated serious and monetary bonanza is the largest woman motion celebrity on the earth, Valentine Jones.
But solid plans die terrible deaths, and foolproof ones, worse. And now, the man who loaned Teddy the cash to shop for the joint--Rail Black, a former Delta strength operator with a personal fortune--is pressured to take ownership of Teddy's dream. And the undesirable information is simply starting.
Exploding from 90 years within the past--when gangsters and picture tycoons roamed Hollywood and scratched every one other's wallets--Rail is sucked right into a quicksand of unsettled ratings, duplicity and dying, the place a few billion funds in boxoffice appears like small change.
From Southern California to long island, Venice, Havana, Mexico and Cyprus, Rail needs to disentangle the prior from the current and are available to phrases together with his emotions for Barrie Fontaine, an extended lifeless woman--and terribly courageous pilot--he hasn't ever met.
And someplace, in the market, is Matty Aspirins, a hitman on a venture all his own.
Welcome to Beverly Hills is Burning.
There could be no intermission.
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Additional info for Beverly Hills is Burning (Rail Black, Book 3)
It was clear that Gustl had reason to think we might click, so I readily agreed. I thought Gustl's gesture was so nice, that I told him not to be afraid to come and see me if things didn't go better with him. We met a few days later in a little park, not far off from where I lived. It had a children's bathing pool, and swings and other playtime devices. I found it a delightful place, ringing with children's carefree voices, and the splash of their small bodies as they threw themselves into the water.
One or two of us were pursuing choristers or telegraph boys (in imagination), others young beauties of our own generation (with varying success), and only one, as far as I can remember, liked older men and had yielded to the importunities of a famous writer who used to visit Cambridge fairly frequently. A friend who had grown to be very close to me, interested in literary experiments as I was, a non-Etonian, told me that he had agreed to go to bed with a young man who languished for him, quite clinically described the episode to me as if it had not been more than an interesting experiment, and admitted that the physical side had slightly disgusted him.
I was, however, not entirely right in this advance judgement. One of the younger men, a few years older than myself, invited me to an evening party at his house a month or two after I had joined. I had the impression that he had been keeping a careful eye on me. As soon as I turned up at his house, he showed me almost excessive friendliness, far more than I expected. The party was mixed, and very crowded in the comparatively small rooms. He introduced me to a large number of people, both male and female, whose names I immediately forgot, and then suggested I sit down on the floor beside a young man who greeted me with especial sympathy just as if he had wanted to meet me for a long time while my host went to get me a drink.