Helldorado by Peter Brandvold

Author:Peter Brandvold
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2010-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

Lou Prophet wasn’t all that taken with the idea of heading over to the Golden Slipper hotel to diddle like proverbial minks with Sivvy Hallenbach, aka Miss Gleneanne O’Shay, because Louisa was holed up over there. His comely partner, or former partner, was well versed in Prophet’s roguish behavior and seemed to have acquired a philosophical attitude about it, but he was just enough embarrassed by it himself that he didn’t want her to actually see him at it.

On the other hand, he wasn’t strong enough to deny a pretty girl’s request for carnal pleasure, especially one standing right in front of him clothed in a dark silk wrap so insignificant that he could have stuffed the entire garment inside his right cheek and still had room in his mouth to chew a full meal.

And he couldn’t very well expect Miss Gleneanne O’Shay to follow him over to the Muleskinner’s when she had her own private suite at the Golden Slipper.

So it was to the latter, better-appointed flophouse that he followed Sivvy. The girl—Prophet still considered her a girl though she had to be twenty-six or so—was dressed in a sparkling gold gown, pearls, and mink stole fit for a queen, all of which set off her dark red hair to stupefying effect. It also showed a goodly portion of her pillowy, pale cleavage, nearly causing more than a few heads to swing her way on the route between the opera house and the hotel.

As Prophet followed her across the lobby and up the broad, carpeted stairs, he felt humbled by his own wash-worn though relatively clean trail garb in sharp contrast to Sivvy’s queenlike elegance. She said she had to soak in a hot tub before any horsing around.

“I’d invite you to join me, you handsome ape,” she whispered as two men dressed like wealthy cattle buyers passed them in the hall, giving the actress a cordial nod before glancing at Prophet and looking vaguely befuddled. “But the tub isn’t big enough, and you’d likely crush the daylights out of me. I have to be careful not to damage my lungs.”

“And that’s a right fine set you got there, too, Miss O’Shay,” Prophet quipped as they stopped outside her door, marked by the gilded number 9.

“Oh, Lou,” she squealed, giving him her key and rubbing her shoulder coquettishly against his arm. “I don’t think you’re talking about my lungs!”

Prophet unlocked the door and threw it open, stepping aside to let her pass ahead of him, grinning. “I don’t think I am, either.”

She rubbed against him alluringly as she strode into the cavern-like room with a massive canopied bed and four tall windows bedecked in pleated red-and-gold drapes with bloodred roses stitched into them. There was a thick gold carpet on the floor, several beveled mirrors on the walls, and big chests and marble-topped washstands. Clothes of every shape, color, and size were strewn everywhere.

Sivvy stepped behind a massive privacy screen adorned with more roses, denying Prophet’s request to watch

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