The first time Britt saw the girl in the tight, thin dress he knew damn well he was going to have her, or go to hell trying. But he hadn’t reckoned then on the girl’s husband, a sadistic runt of a guy who’d smash in a man’s skull as happily as blink at him. He hadn’t reckoned on Newt, the lecherous, broken man who couldn’t bear to see other men whole. Worst of all he hadn’t reckoned on Ruby, the two-bit floozy who knew every conniving trick of her trade.
By the time he discovered the trap these people were building for themselves – and for him – it was too late, way too late, to get out…
Copyright 1951 by Jack Sheridan. Third Printing, November 1959.
In celebration of the glorious British summer we’ve been having this year, here’s my Gold Medal contribution. I love this cover – as dramatic and storm-tossed as any I’ve seen.