A Sebastien Hart Murder Mystery, No. 1398

He parted the beaded curtain carefully, but the rattle gave him away to his beautiful target, and instantly she turned her auburn head, ears pricked up to listen. Catching his breath, he drew back into the darkness and admired her perfect form, visible through the filmy lace of the negligee she wore – or rather, didn’t wear. A trickle of sweat rolled down his brow, and soundlessly he cursed. Had the air in the close room suddenly gone up a few degrees? Or was it something else…?

Ah, the multitudinous joys of pulp fiction. The ridiculous covers featuring scantily clad and pulchritudinous women, the silly copy … What could be more fun than a photoshoot with my friend Sapphire on the theme? After researching dozens of covers (see some here in the Scrapbook), we came up with two concepts, the first of which you see here, featuring the saucy and scantily clad temptress reclining on a suggestively rumpled bed, gun in hand. I love Sapphire’s come-hither look that is belied by the dangerous weapon in her hand ($2.99 from the closest two dollar shop).

Her vintage lingerie comes out of my closet: a flamingo pink slip with a pleated and ruffled hem, and a lacy negligee both c.1960s or 70s, and her curls courtesy of 45 minutes of patient curling by the hairstylist (me) with my iron. And what fun to sort through the photos, complete the artwork and write some suitably lurid copy.

Stay tuned for Sebastien Hart’s next title …