Warning: This is a vintage hard-boiled full length, post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even hive a proper description. Check out the free sample if you can.Excerpt: The Old Man's life was a simple one, and well-ordered, his one indulgence being his dog, Rex, the fifth in a long line of canine companions he had brought into his tiny home over the years. Three of the dogs lay buried under neat unpainted crosses behind the wooden shack, the fourth had simply vanished during a hunt and was probably, the Old Man had guessed, killed by a marauding black bear in search of food himself. He called the handsome beast Rex because he wanted the dog to be "king of the mountains", and he often told the animal always to be proud of his name and of himself, as he was a pureblooded German shepherd, or Alsatian, as the Old Man preferred to call his breed. This was in deference to his Prussian childhood, the lean years in Central Europe before he emigrated with his parents at the end of the last century.
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