Black Orchid Blues: A 1920s Historical Mystery (The Lanie Price Mystery Series Book 2)

I know what people say about Harlem after dark. They talk about the music, the liquor, the glitter. They talk about the thrill of slipping into someplace at night they'll deny visiting by morning.And they still talk about Queenie Lovetree — six feet three inches of sequined, razor-tongued glory. Queenie could stop a room cold with one look, then make it beg for more.You ever see Queenie perform? I did. Once. Then a gunman stormed the club, spilled blood across the floor, and carried Queenie off before my eyes.Hours later, a package appeared at my door. I should've left it alone. I didn't. There was a bloody handkerchief with a ring finger wrapped inside.That’s how it started. What came after took me through gay Harlem — to Jack-a-Lee's party palace on 125th Street and the Faggots' Ball at the Rockland Palace. That last was the grandest, most outlandish drag ball in New York City. That night, beauty and violence turned out to be wearing the same dress. And that night, back at a house on Strivers' Row, I saw enough blood and chaos to feed my nightmares for a lifetime.By then I knew the truth, of course. That this case wasn't about a missing singer. It never was.It was about public prestige and private sadism. A monster made in an elegant house built on hypocrisy. A rage born somewhere sacred — a child's bedroom, at the hands of those who were supposed to love him.This case was about what rage becomes when it has nowhere left to go. It’s violent, it's heartbreaking, and it's true in all the ways that matter.Some people survive cruelty by forgetting. Some by pretending. Some by going insane. Read more