KISS TOMORROW GOOD-BYE - Horace McCoy - NOIR - CHAIN GANG ESCAPE & CRIME WAVE

Description: Excellent condition or better. Tight spine. AVON/V2127/75¢ TIME MAGAZINE: IF ONE OF THE DEAD-END KIDS WERE TO WRITE A NOVEL, WITH THE AID OF AN UN- ABRIDGED DICTIONARY, THE RESULT MIGHT BE SOMETHING LIKE KISS TOMORROW GOOD-BYE HORACE MCCOY ----------- 3 ----------- HORACE MCCOY is a tough writer as Humphrey Bogart was a tough actor. They both created characters of unusual intelligence, but lacking in usual moral These characters without qualities. scruples might as well shoot you as love you. In KISS TOMORROW GOOD- BYE Horace McCoy's haunted hero, a brilliant former college honor student, callously shoots his way through life until in a startling climax, his past catches up with him. McCoy's earlier novel, THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON'T THEY? is stirring up a new wave of excitement that has not stopped pounding at both sides of the At- lantic. Now, this new publication of his last work promises to beat up a tidal wave of interest in an important writer. ----------- 2 ----------- AVON: THE SIGN OF GOOD READING YOU ESCAPE A CHAIN GANG SHOOT YOUR WAY THROUGH ROBBERIES FALL IN WITH CROOKED COPS ARE LOVED BY A MILLIONAIRE'S DAUGHTER BUT CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR TWISTED PAST. YOU MIGHT AS WELL KISS TOMORROW GOOD-BYE. "THIS WILL PROBABLY BE QUARANTINED FROM LIBRARIES, BUT IN ACTION-ADVENTURE... THIS HAS A LITERATE NERVE-LACERATING, WHIP-LASHING EFFECTIVENESS. DOUBLECHECK IT." VIRGINIA KIRKUS Printed in U.S.A ----------- 5 ----------- AVON BOOKS A division of The Hearst Corporation 959 Eighth Avenue New York, New York 10019 Copyright, 1948, by Horace McCoy. All rights reserved. First Avon Printing July, 1965 Cover illustration by Frank Kalan Printed in the U.S.A. ----------- 5 ----------- PART ONE CHAPTER ONE Tins is how it is when you wake up in the morning of the morning you have waited a lifetime for: there is no waking state. You are all at once wide awake, so wide awake that it seems you have skipped all the opiatic degrees of waking, that you have had none of the sense-impressions as your soul again returns to your body from wherever it has been; you open your eyes and you are completely awake, as if you had not been asleep at all. That is how it was with me. This was the morning it was going to happen, and I lay there trem- bling with accumulated excitement and wishing it would happen now and be done with, this instant, consuming nervous energy that I should have been saving for the climax, knowing full well that it could not possibly happen for another hour, maybe another hour and a half, till around five-thirty. It was now only a little after four. It was still so dark I could not see anything distinctly, but I could tell by the little of the morning that I could smell that it was only a little after four. Not much of the morning could get into the place where I was, and the portions that did were always pretty well mauled and no wonder: they had to fight their way in through a single window at the same time a solid shaft of stink was going out. This was a prison barracks where seventy-two unwashed men slept chained to their bunks, and when the individual odours of seventy-two unwashed men finally gather into one pillar of stink you have got a pillar of stink the like of which you cannot conceive: majestic, nonpareil, transcendental, KatéSonip. But it never intimidated that early morning. Ever indomitable, it always came back, and always a little of it got through to me. I was always awake to greet these fragments, hungrily smelling what little freshness they had left by the time they got back to me, smelling them frugally, in careful precious sniffs, let- ting them dig in the vaults of my memory, letting them un-

Price: 20 USD

Location: Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin

End Time: 2024-12-02T11:50:08.000Z

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