Fight Card Romance: Ladies Night by Jill Tunney

Oct 26, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Saturday Spotlight, Writing

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FIGHT CARD ROMANCE: LADIES NIGHT

L.A. 1954 … gangsters, crime, young love and – murder.

Boxing hopeful, Jimmy Doherty’s in the fight of his life to save his bride, Lindy, from a murder rap before both of them wind up on a slab.

*~* 

MY FAVORITE EXCERPT FROM “LADIES NIGHT” IS:  when Lindy, the young bride of the boxing hopeful, Jimmy Doherty, arrested for the murder of another boxer, is placed in a jail cell where she meets two “pro-skirts” – prostitutes.

 

Lindy turned and strained to see into the shadows of the cells further away from hers, toward the laughter. She thought she was alone in the large depressing room.

The voice came again. “Keep you pants on, Bertha May. Don’t mean no harm.”

“Well, watch yourself,” Bertha May said, turning around to stalk back to her post. A moment later, she got up from her chair and left the cell block.

Lindy continued to stare in the direction the voice had come from. “Hello. Who’s there?”

“Hey, chicky, it’s me.”

Two cells across and down from Lindy’s, a woman’s hands appeared through the bars. “Saw you come in today. Guess they pinched you, too.”

“Pinched?” Lindy said confused.

“Yeah, you know. Got snatched up by the heat, put the screws to, given a vacation in the big-house.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You was arrested, right?”

“Yes,” Lindy said hanging her head until it banged against the hard steel bars.

“So whatcha do? They catch you wearing iron tryin’ to pop one of your johns.”

Another female voice chimed in, “No, Daisy. Miss Priss ain’t never been a night-lady like us.”

The first woman turned around to look behind her at someone else in her cell. “That right, Louella?”

The second woman, who must have been laying down on one of the cots, stood and glanced across the aisle at Lindy through the gloom. “Cain’t you see just by lookin’ at her she ain’t no pro-skirt. That’s a right fine dress she’s a wearing. Classy. Not like you and me. Ain’t that right, honey?”

“No. I’m not a …” Lindy waved her hands looking for the appropriate word.

“It’s all right, honey. We know who we are and what we do. It ain’t no crime.” She and her companion burst out laughing. “Well, I guess it is a crime.”

“That is unless the chief and the squad boys want some.” Both women guffawed.

“Done that one a time or two,” Louella said.

Lindy recognized the women now. They were the two pro-skirts, ladies-of-ill-repute, who were sitting in the waiting area.

Louella, a Negro woman, was dressed much like her companion – short, tight skirt, overly stretched-sweater pulled low exposing most of what the good lord blessed them with. They’d teased their hair up into the mile-high beehives – Daisy’s, fire engine red and Louella’s, an unnatural midnight black.

Even in the dark, Lindy could see their make-up hadn’t survived the day. Most of it had floated south on their faces like a slow-moving river making them look like sad circus clowns. Daisy especially. Or had she been crying?

“So, if you ain’t one of us, who’d you mug or rub out?” Daisy said.

“I was arrested for the murder of Rocko Russo, the fighter.”

“Ain’t no way,” Louella said. “You tellin’ the truth?”

“Yes. Rocko’s dead. But I didn’t kill him.”

“Of course not, honey,” Louella said. “A little thing like you couldn’a hurt a fly let alone that horrible monster. That big brute had some mean muscle on him, went all the way to the bone all right.”

“And a terrible mean fist,” Daisy said, sadness on her make-up smeared face.

Lindy was afraid to ask. She could only guess how they were acquainted with Rocko and she hurt for them.

“So, DeLuca, he’s the one that nabbed you?” Louella said, threading her arms through the bars. “He’s a looker, that one. Um-mmm. That’s right. Mighty fine.”

“You ever do him?” Daisy turned to Louella.

“Nah. He’s a saint. Waiting on Miss Right an all.”

“Say, chickie.” Daisy turned to Lindy. “You and DeLuca …” Daisy winked.

“What?” Lindy felt the blood drain from her head. “Absolutely not. I’m married.”

“That right?” Louella perked up. “Who’s the lucky man?”

Lindy smiled for the first time in many hours. “He’s a boxer and such a wonderful, handsome man.”

“You don’t say? What’s his name? Maybe I know him.” Her smile was sly.

Lindy hoped she was teasing. “Jimmy Doherty. Won his first bout last Friday night.”

Louella shook her head. “Remember, Daisy. We was with Rocko till nearly midnight after his fight before he ditched us and took off.”

There was a deep sorrow etched on Daisy’s face and for the first time, Lindy saw the remnants of what looked like a mouse under Daisy’s eye. “Oh, yeah. I remember.”

Louella broke the somber mood that fell over the cellblock. “So what now, honey? You just coolin’ your heels in stir with us here big-time mama’s?”

Louella shook her dark head and hooted a bawdy laugh. “That just don’t seem right, a pretty little thing like you accused of murderin’ that no good, dirty snake. Not right at all. DeLuca’ll find out the truth. Yes, sir. Ain’t right. At least that bugger ain’t goin’ hurt us no more.”

What had Rocko done to these two women? Lindy could only imagine and she didn’t like what she thought. She couldn’t understand how women like Daisy and Louella could shame themselves and take up the oldest profession. She wished she could help them, take away their troubles and removed them from the filthy, self-degrading way they had to make a living. But what could she do?

*~* 

AUTHOR BIO: 

Carol Malone successfully combines her three passions – writing, sports, and romance to become the very first woman to climb into the boxing ring of a male-dominated series called Fight Card. Think Rocky meets The Untouchables, Carol’s written a mash-up of happily ever after with kick-in-the-pants, fist-pounding action.

If not hammering out new tales to entice her readers to scramble into a front row seat for thrilling tales of physical endurance and tender passion, Carol’s reading, watching sports on TV, or hanging with her end-of-the-world author husband on the cool coast of California. To talk sports and amour, and learn about Carol’s latest book releases, visit Carol on her website: www.carolmalone.net.

Sarah

1 Comment

  1. L. Palmer

    I’m in a writing group with Carol and her husband, and had the pleasure of reading this scene on one of our critique nights. I am glad to see this scene features, because it is one of my favorites from the book as well. The whole story is a good, exciting yarn.

    Reply

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