Posts Tagged ‘Eliot Ness and the Mad Butcher’

Wolfs and Cats, Living Together, Sunday Fun, and a 5-Day Script

Tuesday, October 6th, 2020
Too Many Tomcats, Wolfpack Cover
Ebook: Amazon Purchase Link

All of the copies in last week’s book giveaway of Murderlized and Murder – His and Hers have been shipped. I unexpectedly received more copies of Murderlized that allowed me to send ten copies out, not just five.

Now we have another Wolfpack release, thus far only available on Kindle, but a physical book will be along soon. It’s Barb’s Too Many Tomcats, an anthology of her stories for the various Cat Crimes collections; I wrote the intro and co-wrote a couple of stories.

Do not be dissuaded by the title and subject – these are dark tales, very much in the Roald Dahl/Alfred Hitchcock Presents vein. While Barb does not (exactly) dislike cats, she is fact allergic to them. The cats in these stories, among other things, tend to be evil, murder victims, and/or dead. It’s a wonderful collection, reflecting many of the tales having been chosen for the Year’s 25 Finest Crime and Mystery Stories anthologies edited by Ed Gorman and Martin H. Greenberg, two great men both sadly gone.

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I am pleased to announce that the project that SCTV’s Dave Thomas and I are in the process of writing has found a home.

Much more about that later.

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For those of you not sick to death of me (which does not include my wife) (or myself for that matter), I did a ZOOM interview with S-F/Fantasy & Mystery author Russ Colchamiro. Russ is a fine, fun interviewer and we talked about things that haven’t made it into my zillion other interviews.

Russ is one of the Crazy 8 Press group of genre writers, which includes (among other excellent scribes) my old pals Peter David, Glenn Hauman, Robert Greenberger and Paul Kupperberg.

Check out the talk between Russ and me right here:

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Although this update/blog appears on Tuesday morning, I often write them the Sunday night before. That’s the case this week.

You may recall I’ve written about a handful of very carefully orchestrated outings that Barb and I have undertaken (an unfortunate word in a pandemic), getting carry out meals to eat in the car or at a park, and slipping into a bookstore or some other retails outlet at an off-time when few if any other customers can be spied. And, of course, only stores where you have to wear a mask to enter, even if you aren’t robbing the joint.

Doesn’t sound like a lot of fun, but the three times we’ve gone out on such outings have been lovely – it felt like the old days, way-way-way back in February of this year, when only our president and Bob Woodward knew the truth about Covad-19.

We had our day planned – another Quad Cities trip. We would again go Portillo’s, a wonderful drive-in restaurant, and then Barb would slip into the Van Maur department store at North Park Mall in Davenport while I would do the same at the Barnes & Noble, for perhaps half an hour. We timed it to arrive at Portillo’s around 10:45 a.m. and the mall at 11:30 (when it opened). We planned it with a precision that Nolan and Jon (if you’re reading this you really should know who that is) would envy.

Then we got up this morning and read the Quad City Times Sunday edition. It told of the 500 cases of Covid logged in the QC’s this week, mostly Iowa side of the river. It also mentioned that Iowa is number four among Covid hot spots in the nation.

And we stayed home.

And you know what? It wasn’t bad. We spent some time together in the morning (none of your business), I got us breakfast at Hardee’s (Mickey Spillane ate their biscuits every day), prepared the living room for carpet cleaning early this coming week (I will be upstairs and the cleaners will be downstairs) (in masks), and I finished up cleaning my office to prepare for beginning a new project tomorrow. Barb and I spent the evening watching three episodes of the British crime show New Tricks, which we have been bingeing. We ate hot dogs that were damn near Portillo’s-worthy.

Of course we also had to watch the president of the United States take a motorcade to nowhere to wave at his fans. Your tax dollars at work.

No, I’m not going to get political, because I have too many friends and business associates who are not just Republicans but support the president. Their privilege, and I don’t want to alienate any of my readers, either.

But just between us, the inside of my head is exploding, twenty-four hours a day.

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I had a wild week, reminiscent of my pre-heart surgery younger days. With another deadline looming, I nonetheless agreed to write a first-draft screenplay for a movie based on “A Bullet for Satisfaction,” a non-Mike Hammer crime novella written by Mickey Spillane and yours truly. (It appeared as a sort of short subject before the main attraction in The Last Stand, the 100th anniversary Spillane novel.)

Basically I had to turn out twenty pages of finished script a day (“first draft” merely means the first version of a script, not something loose or sloppy or haphazard). The novella is a gloriously crazed collection of noir tropes, which attracted an established, Hard Case Crime-loving indie filmmaker to the material. My job was to assemble a bunch of short, fun, off-the-wall scenes into a more coherent whole, combining them, and making them play believably, mining a plot out of the mineral content, without losing what attracted the filmmaker in the first place.

I had a wonderful time. I just loved doing it.

Will it go anywhere? You never know. We have not signed a deal yet, but I had a window in which to work, so I grabbed it – if the project falls through, I’ll wind up with a screenplay, so no harm, no foul. If it goes forward, I am not carrying the ball – I am not the director, who will be doing a second draft from my first. Doesn’t bother me – he’s the director, and it’s his movie. Having talked to him at length, I liked what I heard, and we seem to be on the same page.

But this is the movies, and you never know. My version of The Last Lullaby – my script was faithfully novelized by me into The Last Quarry – was used by a young director to raise the money. I was the Road to Perdition guy, remember? Then a producer came aboard with his own writer and my screenplay was rewritten by someone I’ve never met. After that, I was able to do a polish, but I still wish my initial version had been shot.

On the other hand, despite certain problems with it, The Last Lullaby is still a damn good crime movie and probably a more accurate rendition of Quarry than the Cinemax series (though technically the main character is not Quarry – he’s “Price,” a name I think was appropriate).

Anyway, it’s the movies. I love the damn things, and I love my excursions into screenwriting.

But there’s a reason why you write novels.

They are yours.

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A reminder that this coming Thursday, Oct. 8, 2020, A. Brad Schwartz and I will be appearing via ZOOM at the Mob Museum in Las Vegas to talk about Eliot Ness and the Mad Butcher. You don’t have to go to Vegas to participate, either.

And here’s a great review of the paperback edition of The Big Bang, only the second of the Spillane/Collins collaborative Mike Hammer novels.

M.A.C.

Bang, Zoom – You’re the Greatest! Also 99-Cent Nate Heller

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2020

Till the end of the month, the latest Nate Heller novel, Do No Harm, is available for $2.99 as an eBook.

And starting September 22, all of the following Nate Heller novels are available for a mere 99-cents each on Kindle. This sale last only till September 28, so act fast!

These are the titles (in no particular order):

Damned in Paradise
Carnal Hours
Stolen Away
Chicago Confidential
Majic Man
True Detective
The Million-Dollar Wound
True Crime
Neon Mirage
Flying Blind
Blood and Thunder
Triple Play
Chicago Lightning

and this non-Heller title:

The Lusitania Murders

The promotion is here:
https://www.amazon.com/b?node=13819722011

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Suddenly I’m ZOOMing.

Not long ago I did a panel promoting a book not by me, but by Susanna Lee, Detectives in the Shadows, on the impact of hardboiled private eyes on our popular culture. It’s an interesting book, with some observations I agree with (and some I don’t), focusing on a limited number of literary (and television) P.I.s. My participation came out of Ms. Lee doing a solid chapter on Mike Hammer and Mickey Spillane.

The panel was moderated by my pal Kevin Burton Smith, whose Thrilling Detective web site is a place any fan of private eye fiction can (and should) spend a lot of quality time. Other panelists, besides Ms. Lee, were Ace Atkins (Spenser being a topic of a Detectives in Shadows chapter), Alex Segura, comics writer and P.I. novelist (the well-regarded Pete Fernandez series).

It’s a pretty good discussion, although I talk too much (big surprise). Alex got a bit short-changed, but Ace had smart things to say, particularly when he was agreeing with me. Anyway, don’t take my word for it. Here it is.

This afternoon (Sunday September 20, 2020), A. Brad Schwartz and I were interviewed about our non-fiction book, Eliot Ness and the Mad Butcher. We were interviewed by Scott Sroka, a recognized Ness expert, and the grandson of one of the real Untouchables (Joe Leeson), and himself a former federal prosecutor. We were hosted by Quail Ridge Books (thank you, Rebecca!).

It’s a decent discussion, I think, and since Brad and I will not be doing any bookstore signings or appearances, this is a somewhat rare opportunity to hear us talk about the second Ness book.

Brad and I will be doing one more of these appearances, this time at the Mob Museum in Las Vegas (where we appeared in person for Scarface and the Untouchable): THE SECOND ACT OF ELIOT NESS: BATTLING THE MOB IN CLEVELAND, October 8, 2020, 7 to 8 p.m.

Information on how to attend at the museum or online is here.

And that’s just the start of my ZOOMing adventures. This coming Wednesday I will be interviewed by Eddie Muller for his TCM series, Noir Alley (always a must watch, even when I’m not on it) (or, depending on your point of view, even when I am on it). I will be interviewed for two separate episodes on a pair of my favorite films, Kiss Me Deadly and Born to Kill. They should both air yet this year, and when I have air times (and permission to share them) I will post them on this update/blog.

I was scheduled to be on Noir Alley in March but the Pandemic decided I shouldn’t travel; and I was thrilled to be asked anyway, thanks to viewers getting used to seeing Zoom and Skype transmissions on bigtime TV.

Getting ready for Noir Alley has meant upgrading my computer set-up, and Turner Classic Movies has sent some higher-end stuff including a microphone that looks like it belongs on Johnny Carson’s desk and an HD camera that is far too realistically able to show the world what a 72-year-old version of a boy wonder looks like.

My son Nate has been vital in getting these technological upgrades installed and tweaked for a parent who doesn’t text and fears Apps the way Kevin McCarthy does his fellow citizens in Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

And tomorrow – the day before this first appears – I have to do a dry run with TCM to make sure we’ve correctly installed this stuff, though I’m pretty sure their techs have little if anything on Nathan Allan Collins.

* * *

I am happy to report that the first batches of the Wolfpack trade paperbacks have arrived, and they are beauties. These folks do a great job. I don’t have enough on hand to start mounting book giveaways, though that will happen very soon.

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This is the second time I’ve titled one of these updates with a variation on Ralph Kramden’s toothless threat to send his wife Alice to the moon, and I suppose that’s risky in this climate. Will the day come – perhaps it already has – that a generation arrives who find The Honeymooners an offensive assault on their tender sensibilities?

Already, for decades, the all-African-American cast of gifted performers who made the Amos ‘n’ Andy TV show one of the funniest sitcoms in history have been consigned to the scrap heap of history. The creator of Harry Potter has a man in a dress killing women, I hear, and a whole lot of people who haven’t read the book want it boycotted.

As I have said many times: the place where the far right and the far left meet is a book burning…they’re just bringing different books.

I am always astounded at the things people complain about in my books. Quarry is viewed as having sexist views which they find just terrible (but nobody complains that he’s murdering people). Nate Heller also sizes up the attractive young women he counters, cataloguing their hair color and figures and facial features; but no one ever mentions that he often just flat-out kills people at the end of the books. I get attacked for writing sex scenes, mostly by priggish males, but don’t recall any complaints about gore.

Nothing new about that. That pre-dates political correctness, and just indicates how uncomfortable Americans have always been about sex and how comfortable they are with violence.

And now the Academy Awards are defining what elements a Best Picture nominee has to have, from the content of the screenplay to the ethnicity and sexual identification of the cast and crew. These are creative people who’ve banded together to promulgate this offensive nonsense, trivializing real problems and concerns into feeling smugly good about themselves.

It used to be Nero fiddled while Rome burned. Now the fiddlers burn other fiddlers while Nero and his boys sack Rome.

M.A.C.

R.I.P. Emma Peel…and a Wolfpack Spy Revealed

Tuesday, September 15th, 2020

I am, obviously, at that age when the icons of my youth are going on ahead of me into whatever lies ahead. Emma Peel is gone. Not at all forgotten.

Still, losing Diana Rigg at 82 sounds much too soon – she was still displaying her considerable acting skills and powers of personality in Victoria and the forthcoming Black Narcissus.

The British Invasion was the Big Thing when I was in high school, and that of course immediately brings to mind the Beatles and their fellow rock ‘n’ roll invaders. But the British Invasion was also James Bond, and the Spy Craze – even The Man from U.N.C.L.E. was an Ian Fleming brainchild (thought that fact has been lost in the shuffle a bit). Sometimes the rock aspect collided with the spy craze, as when Johnny Rivers did the theme song for Secret Agent (as the Brit Danger Man was retitled for USA consumption). And would Michael Caine’s career have gotten its jump start if Harry Palmer hadn’t brought John Lennon to mind in The Ipcress File (1965)?

From the UK came the greatest of Spy Craze TV series, The Avengers (well, let’s call it a tie with The Prisoner). Emma Peel’s predecessor – as the black catsuit-clad partner of bowler-and-bumbershoot-sporting John Steed, portrayed by urbane Patrick Macnee – was Cathy Gale. The original distaff martial-arts Avenger (to “boys” my age, those Marvel Avengers should be called the Pretenders) was Honor Blackman, whose final curtain call preceded Diana Rigg’s by just a few months.

The Bond connections are many. Honor Blackman was (could anyone reading this really not know) Pussy Galore in Goldfinger (1964); and Patrick Macnee was James Bond’s Lordly sidekick in the Roger Moore entry, View to a Kill (1985). Macnee was not, as some would have, the cousin of (sort of) James Bond, David Niven (Casino Royale, 1965), though the two actors did appear together in The Elusive Pimpernel (1950).

Most significantly, Diana Rigg portrayed Contessa Teresa di Vicenzo in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969), and became not just the love of Bond’s life but his wife, albeit briefly. The former Emma Peel was, not surprisingly, appealing in the role and her presence shored up the place-holder presence of George Lazenby as Bond in what was the greatest James Bond movie Sean Connery never made.

Diana Rigg was an accomplished and much-lauded screen actress, and I won’t go into all of her remarkable list of credits here. I’ll mention only my favorite performance by her, after Emma Peel and Tracy di Vicenzo, which is Arlena Stuart Marshall in Evil Under the Sun (1982), the best of the big screen Poirot movies (feel free to disagree, but do so knowing I’m not listening).

What is significant about Diana Rigg, it seems to me, is how she managed to be an actress of incredible sex appeal and at the same time convey an undeniable, even intimidating intelligence, at a time (the first Bond era, remember) when “birds” were mostly mini-skirts, eye make-up, and lots of teased hair. She could even smirk with intelligence, and the way she and The Avengers spoofed the inherently absurd spy fad gave the series its special zing. Her range as an actress is astonishing. I always had a sense that she wanted to give the audience her best, but if they didn’t like it, that was their problem.

So it is with a bittersweet smile, and a gathering sense of my own mortality, that I blow a kiss goodbye to Emma Peel, knowing that she and Diana Rigg will live forever.

Now, hoping it’s not a display of bad taste, I will segue into finally announcing the series that Matt Clemens and I are doing for Wolfpack. You’ll see the connection in a moment, or perhaps as soon as you hear the title of the first novel: Come Spy With Me.

Matt and I created the lead characters and developed the premise for the series twenty years ago in a couple of little seen short stories. John Sand is a recently retired British secret agent whose cover was blown world-wide when a famous series of novels by an ex-spy colleague of his became best sellers. The stories – at least the trilogy we have agreed to produce – take place in the, shall we say, Swinging Sixties.

John Sand has married a wealthy young woman named Stacey and, in Come Spy With Me, we join them on their honeymoon, where if we had any sense of propriety we wouldn’t witness their carnal conduct. I’ll leave it to you to decide how much propriety Matt Clemens and I have.

But not to worry. The mushy stuff is temporary – carnal gives way to carnage soon enough, and John Sand is as hard-edged a man of action as, well, the famous fictional spy that was based on him.

The name “Sand,” by the way, is a very much conscious tip of the jaunty ‘60s cap to the mono-named lead of Ennis Willie’s series of novels written in that era, which influenced me almost as much as Mickey Spillane, Richard Stark, and Ian Fleming.

You will hear more about this series as the weeks progress – the first book will, as I’ve indicated, be out well before the end of the year. We’ll have a cover to show you before too very long.

When Matt and I discussed getting an advance blurb from an appropriate author, only one name came to mind: Raymond Benson, author of officially licensed James Bond novels (and short stories and video games) and the landmark The James Bond Bedside Companion. Raymond is also the author of the Black Stiletto novels and Hotel Destiny – A Ghost Noir.

Raymond was gracious enough to look at Come Spy With Me in manuscript, and this is what he says:

Come Spy With Me is a heck of a ride! The characters are smooth, the real-world cameos are fun, the action is electric, and the sex is rightly retro. This homage to Mr. Fleming, Mr. Bond, and all the other pulp spy thrillers of the 1960s will leave you craving for the next installment!”

* * *

This is a lovely review of the forthcoming second Ms. Tree collection from Titan – Skeleton in the Closet.

Here is a compendium of reviews of Eliot Ness and the Mad Butcher, mostly very good.

My co-author, A. Brad Schwartz and I, will be discussing Eliot Ness and the Mad Butcher next Sunday, September 20, at 1 pm Central. Join us with your own questions.

M.A.C.

“Real” Books Now Available from Wolfpack!

Tuesday, September 8th, 2020

This will be a brief update because my office is shutting down for my son Nate to install a new computer with various new programs.

But I will take the time to announce the following: print versions of both Mommy and Mommy’s Day are available for $9.99. Be sure to click on PAPERBACK at the listing to get the right price (and cover). [Note from Nate: The links in this update go directly to Amazon.]

Also available as “real” books from Wolfpack are Murderlized – the collected short stories of Matt Clemens and me (10.99); all four Eliot Ness books, The Dark City, Butcher’s Dozen, Bullet Proof, and Murder by the Numbers ($10.99 each); and Murder His and Hers, stories by Barb and me ($9.99).

Your support of these titles will be much appreciated. Their success paves the way for new original books (and further reprints) by me, me and Matt, and me and Barb.

Yeah, I know – that’s an obnoxious amount of “me” – and “I” know it.

* * *

Here’s a great Kiss Her Goodbye review, reprinted from a long-ago post.

This is a rather tepid endorsement of Eliot Ness & the Mad Butcher.

Finally, here’s a list putting a story by Mickey Spillane and me on the “must-read” list.

M.A.C.