Joe Pitt casebook
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Joe Pitt's life sucks. He hasn't had a case or a job in God knows how long and his stashes are running on empty. What stashes? The only ones that count to a guy like Joe: blood and money. The money he uses to buy blood; the blood he drinks. Hey, buddy, it's that or your neck--you want to choose? The only way to lay his hands on both is to take a gig with the local Vampyre Clan. See, something new is on the streets, a new high, a high so strong...
"One of the most remarkable prose stylists to emerge from the noir tradition in this century."
"Hard-boiled horror, pulp noir vampires, decaying urban souls-- you're gonna need a shower after this one. . . . [Huston] kicks down the door of horror."
--Fangoria, on Already Dead
There's only so much room on the Island, only so much blood, and Manhattan's Vampyre Clans aren't interested in sharing. So when the Vyrus-infected
"[Charlie Huston's] action scenes are unparalleled in crime fiction and his dialogue is so hip and dead-on that Elmore Leonard should be getting nervous."
--Publishers Weekly (starred review), on Half the Blood of Brooklyn
It's like this: a series of bullet-riddled bad breaks has seen rogue Vampyre and terminal tough guy Joe Pitt go from PI for hire to Clan-connected enforcer to dead man walking in a New York minute. And after burning