Okay, first, apologies for the lack of posts recently. Living in Italy (as detailed on my Italy blog) lately has included lots of jolly visitors, which leaves little time for blogging (but lots of time for wine, amaros, art, and eating, if you were feeling sad for me). So, if you’ve been crying over a lack of Spiked Punch, forgive me. At least you weren’t shot in the back by one of your own posse while finishing up the war, then (after surprisingly living with no-one knowing) having to go on a Treasure Trip tour around the west to track down said war posse to find out who and why. Which is what happens to the main character in Richard Powell’s Say It With Bullets, another of the rad reprints from Hard Case Crime (the book was originally published 50 plus years ago). Touring around with vengeance in your heart does make you thirsty, however, and vengeance needs refilling—what better drink for both than the reliable Tom Collins. Read on:
The town of Winnemucca was about six gas stations long by four taprooms wide. But the place had quite a hotel. It was sleek and modern and had a tiled patio decked with gay umbrellas around a swimming pool. He relaxed in his air-conditioned bedroom and studied the play of light on the swimming pool below his window and on the Tom Collins glass in his hand. Things were going to look brighter as soon as he got outside the Tom Collins and inside the swimming pool.
—Say It With Bullets, Richard Powell