“Good,” Gary replied. “Because our cab just left us here to die, otherwise.”
“And I thought Manhattan was frightening,” Julian murmured as he crossed the street to face a large black steel door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked.
An eye-level panel slid open. “Yeah?” came a gruff voice from inside.
Julian glanced back down to the paper. “Um…Urethra Dejeuner sent me,” he read.
The massive door unlocked with a clang and swung open. Inside the vestibule, it looked even more like a warehouse, except for a neon sign over a door that led off to the right and read Genny’s Place. Julian straightened his tie as he and Gary headed inside.
He was stunned when he saw the inside of the club itself, with lots of mission-style dark wood, steel, and stained glass. The light fixtures appeared to be beautiful obsidian works of art, and the bar was long and S-shaped, with people shoulder to shoulder around it.
“Wow,” Gary said above the sound of jazz that the pianist played in the corner.
Julian continued to weave through the crowd. “It’s packed.”
“Julian!”
He turned to see Violet coming toward him through the celebrating throng. “Vi!”
When she reached them, she hugged them both and gave them each a kiss. “I was worried you two wouldn’t make it before midnight.”
“Vi, this place is beautiful,” Gary said. “When I heard you owned a club, I pictured a little hole in the wall under a bridge somewhere.”
“Guarded by a troll?” she asked with a grin.
Gary chuckled. “Perhaps.”
“That’s a very New York City perspective, I’m afraid. We don’t have trolls in LA.”
Julian looked around at the festive, very queer clientele. “Though clearly you have your share of fairies.”
“It’s that damned silent partner of mine, Peter Pan. He keeps bringing them,” Violet said. “Come on into the back room, fellas, to Wil’s table.”
Julian was stunned that there was even more to the club. “I naturally assumed Wil had a standing table here.”
Violet slowly led them through the wall of people. “Only because we don’t yet have a safe place reserved for her to pass out.”
Gary laughed. “That would save so much time and effort.”
The back room Violet had referred to was another space nearly as big as the front room, though it had a palpably different feel. Out front, the atmosphere was lively, like a beating heart. But back here, it was darker, bluer, and somehow more intimate. Onstage Moxie, looking glamorous, was singing a sultry version of the Gershwin ballad “’S Wonderful.”
Violet paused appreciatively before she snapped out of it and directed Julian and Gary to a large round table up front, near the wall. “Gentlemen, allow me to do the introductions for the new faces, and for those of us who may have been too drunk the last time we were together to remember who we all are.” Already sitting at the table were Wil, Irene, Lady Dulce La Boeuf, and three unfamiliar men. “Julian and Gary, this is Peter Easton, screenwriter, and Charles Fitzhugh, chauffeur extraordinaire. And this gentleman is Irene’s fiancé Joe Kilkenney, a screenwriter much like Peter, only better. I believe you know everyone else.” She grabbed a chair for herself.
Wil rose and rounded the table to kiss Julian and Gary. “How was your trip, darlings?”
“The train was nice, but it rained for days,” Gary replied as he took a seat. “It was long, tiring, and wet.”
Wil returned to her chair and settled in. “Hmm, the last time I described an evening in those terms, I had spent thirty-six hours straight with a streetcar conductor, an Alsatian, and a freakishly phallic zucchini. It was fabulous.”
Julian sighed contentedly as a gangly young man arrived to take his drink order. “I’ve missed having someone of such questionable virtue to openly mock, Wil.” He nodded to the waiter. “I’ll have a gin rickey, please.”
Wil slid a Chesterfield into her cigarette holder. “And I’ve missed the way you frequently make me laugh so hard that I pee a little. Did you get checked into the Garden?”
Gary nodded, his brow furrowed. “We did, but the fella at the front desk—he didn’t seem quite right.”
“Was he wearing women’s undergarments?” Irene asked.
“And wearing them completely incorrectly?” Lady Dulce clarified.
“No,” Julian replied. “He seemed completely normal, until he turned around to get us the bungalow key and we noticed a live flower sticking out of his pants, like it was growing from his ass crack.”
“A bird of paradise,” Gary added helpfully.
“Well, those are very pretty,” Violet said weakly. “And the stems are quite firm.”
Irene nodded. “And they don’t have thorns.”
Julian winced. “So Vi, Genny’s Place? Who exactly is Genny?”
“It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Violet explained. “Though for you, Gary, and Peter, it would be an outside joke, if you follow me.”
Julian scowled. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
Wil leaned forward on the table. “As in, ‘I wish I could scratch my gennies, but people are looking.’”
“How classy,” Peter said, taking a sip of his martini.
“Good breeding pervades everything I do, Peter,” Violet said.
“That kind of thing can’t be learned,” Julian added. “Look at Wil, for example.”
“So, Lady Dulce, how long have you been in California?” Gary asked.
“About a month.”
“The West Coast seems to agree with you,” Julian said.
Lady Dulce beamed. “I have to say that working here is definitely a step up from the shit factory I was singing in back East. Though, for the record, you two bastards missed my set.”
“No doubt you were terrific,” Gary said in appeasement.
“You bet your ass I was,” Lady Dulce replied. “Just ask Ramon Novarro. He was sitting down front, and he loved every minute of it.”
Peter’s upper lip curled. “Well, we don’t need to know exactly how you know he loved it.”
“Speak for yourself, darling.” Wil exhaled the smoke from her cigarette before turning to Lady Dulce. “Did you make him come in his pants?”
Lady Dulce winked. “I sure as hell tried.”
“T. Z. is loaning me out to MGM studios next month to make a picture with him,” Wil said. “I’ll try too, and we’ll see who gets closer.”
Lady Dulce’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. “Deal.”
“Wil, explain to me why you haven’t been fired yet.” Julian lit a match for his Lucky Strike.
Wil laughed. “Believe me, darling, I’m just as shocked as you are. Who knew that September Moon would be such a hit? I mean, the character I played was so fucking sweet and pure. I found her utterly tedious, but somehow the public loved her.”
“Remarkable,” Julian said.
“Why don’t you tell Gary and Julian how you ended Sylvia King’s career, Wil?” Violet said, propping her chin on her fist.
“Oh, they don’t want to hear that boring old chestnut,” Wil mumbled.
“Sylvia King, the dope fiend?” Gary asked excitedly.
“That’s the one,” Violet said. “Go ahead, Wil, Peter.”
“It was easy, really,” Peter explained with less visible compunction than Wil showed. “It seems that when you are a wretched cunt to everyone, it’s very easy to find people who take great glee in getting revenge.” He polished off his drink. “In fact, Rex Kelly took it upon himself to make up the part about Sylvia having syphilis. He got a little carried away, apparently.”
Wil pointed at Violet. “You know we—”
“Did it all for me. Yes, so you say,” Violet remarked. “I’d like to say it’s the thought that counts, but the thought was actually rather dark and vicious.”
“You’re welcome,” Peter said sarcastically.
Violet sighed. “Next time, just get me a card.”
; “Would anyone like another drink?” the waiter asked.
Peter nodded. “I would.”
“No, thanks,” Wil said.
Julian was stunned. “Did you just refuse a refill?”
“I did, yes. I have to be at the studio tomorrow for some costume fittings, and Cotton will kill me if I’m late.”
“Your new agent is Cotton ?” Julian sputtered.
“Yeah,” Irene said, clearly amused. “Ain’t that a shocker?”
“How did that happen?” Gary asked.
“Well,” Wil said, “Cotton’s main client was Moxie, and when she decided to stop acting, he realized he needed something I could give him.”
“An ulcer?” Violet suggested.
“Suicidal thoughts?” Peter said.
“Gonorrhea?” Julian offered.
Everyone paused for a moment, before Wil responded. “That round goes to Julian.”
“Thanks,” Julian replied, his mustache curving upward slightly. “I’d like to thank all the little people, whose constant drinking, carousing, and exceedingly poor judgment have provided endless inspiration.”
Violet chuckled and shook her head slowly, not realizing until that moment just how much she loved her friends. She rose and straightened her dress. “I’ll be right back, everyone. Make sure you order at least two bottles of champagne. We’ll need to toast at midnight.”
She walked up the steps and stood in the wings to watch Moxie finish her last number. She loved the way Moxie’s fingers slid provocatively up the length of the microphone as she sang. Who was she kidding? She loved the way anything of Moxie’s moved against any object of choice.
As the song ended, the applause commenced and Moxie took her bows. As she exited the stage, she smiled seductively when she saw Violet waiting for her. “How’d I do?”
Violet was speechless. “You were—”
“All right?” Moxie suggested.
“I was going to say mouthwateringly delicious.”
The corners of Moxie’s mouth rose slightly, and her hands went around Violet’s waist. “You’re sweet.”
“Sweet wasn’t exactly what I was going for,” Violet said breathily.
Moxie gently pushed Violet so that her back was pressed against the wall, then kissed her hungrily. “Don’t underestimate the power of being sweet, Vi,” she said softly, as she shifted to nibble Violet’s neck. “Odds are good that it will get me into bed.”
Violet’s pulse was racing from the feel of Moxie’s mouth as it made its way to her earlobe. “Mmm, they do say that whatever you do on New Year’s Eve, you’ll be doing all year long.”
“Well, I don’t know who they are,” Moxie whispered before snaking her tongue into Violet’s ear, “but I’d hate to disappoint them.”
“God bless them.”
“Speaking of them,” Moxie said, “did I see Gary and Julian arrive?” Her hands began to caress the small of Violet’s back.
“You did. The gang’s all here.”
“It’s going to be a hell of a night.”
“Yes. The perfect end to a hell of a year,” Violet said, trailing kisses along Moxie’s jawline. “Any regrets?”
Moxie pulled back to look into Violet’s gray eyes. “Are you kidding? Do you know what this is?”
“What?”
“I’m the water,” she said as her lips gently brushed the base of Violet’s throat. “And you’re the absinthe.” Her mouth slowly made its way up to Violet’s neck. “This is the louche.”
Violet smiled and reverently ran her fingers along Moxie’s collarbone. “That it is.”
Aperitif—Or the Appendix of Cocktails
Extensive research went into the creation of The Seduction of Moxie, and as such, it was necessary to mix many a classic cocktail. I spent countless hours in this endeavor and will never recount some of the resulting evenings because, frankly, their details now escape me.
I decided to include some of the drinks in this book as a sort of companion piece. A few old favorites have been transcribed, but also some unique creations— Seduction of Moxie originals—will hopefully inspire you to indulge in some debauchery of your own.
The Moxie
This subtle yet sweet concoction packs a wallop. Bar games involving the cherry stem are optional, though enthusiastically encouraged.
In a champagne flute, add the following:
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
½ tablespoon cherry brandy
1 maraschino cherry
Top with your favorite bubbly. I tend to like this drink on the sweeter side, so I usually use a Demi-Sec or Doux. But feel free to experiment until you get a blend you like.
The Violet London
Crème de Violette is a bit tricky to find in your neighborhood liquor establishment, but you may be able to find a few online stores that carry it.
In a cocktail shaker, add the following:
1 ounce gin
1 ounce vodka
4 ounces lemon-lime soda
¾ tablespoon Crème de Violette
ice
Give the ingredients a good shake and strain into a martini glass. Add a lemon twist or slice to garnish.
The Lady Dulce
While I didn’t intend to create a drink for the fabulous Lady Dulce La Boeuf, this concoction came about one experimental Sunday morning and I thought, “Yes, this would most certainly hit the spot after a night in the buffet flats.” Just be sure you’re not driving out to brunch (or anywhere, really) after having one of these.
To a mug of regular coffee, add the following:
1 tablespoon Kahlúa
1 tablespoon Frangelico
1 tablespoon Café Bohême
The Pompous Bastard
In a cocktail shaker, add the following:
2 ounces gin
½ tablespoon Galliano
½ tablespoon Cointreau
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
ice
Give the ingredients a good shake and strain into a martini glass. Add a lemon twist to garnish.
The Classic Gin Rickey
Finding a bartender who could properly craft Julian’s drink of choice was a bit challenging, but after giving the briefest of instructions, I was able to find a few establishments that produced a truly magnificent beverage. Let’s bring about a resurgence of this classic.
In an ice-filled highball glass, add the following:
2½ ounces gin
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
5 ounces club soda
Give the ingredients a brief stir and add a lime wedge for garnish. It’s also delicious if you add a little simple syrup.
The Bronx
One of Miss Skoog’s favorites, if she had to prioritize her liquid diet.
In a cocktail shaker ⅔ full of ice, add the following:
2 ounces gin
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
2 teaspoons dry vermouth
2 teaspoons sweet vermouth
Give the ingredients a good shake and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
The Floradora
In an ice-filled highball glass, add the following:
1 ½ ounces gin
½ ounce fresh lime juice
½ ounce framboise liqueur
Top with ginger ale and garnish with a lime wedge.
The Sidecar
In a cocktail shaker ⅔ full of ice, add the following:
1 ounce brandy
1 ounce Cointreau (or triple sec)
1 ounce fresh lemon juice
Shake vigorously and pour into a cocktail glass rimmed with sugar.
About the Author
Colette Moody is an avid fan of history and politics. When she isn’t doing research or crafting scenes for her next romp of a novel, she can be found doing one or more of the following: watching classic films; sequestering herself in the kitchen eagerly trying to prove that everything does taste better with bacon; meticulously recreating cocktails from the 19
30s and ’40s; or planning her next trip to Disneyland. By day, her alter ego toils at what she fondly refers to as her “crap job.” She lives in Virginia with her very naughty dog and her only slightly less naughty partner of ten years.
The Seduction of Moxie is Colette Moody’s second novel. Her first, also for Bold Strokes Books, was the rollicking pirate tale The Sublime and Spirited Voyage of Original Sin.
Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
The Seduction of Moxie by Colette Moody. When 1930s Broadway actress Violet London meets speakeasy singer Moxie Valette, she is instantly attracted and her Hollywood trip takes an unexpected turn.(978-1-60282-114-9)
Goldenseal by Gill McKnight. When Amy Fortune returns to her childhood home, she discovers something sinister in the air—but is former lover Leone Garoul stalking her or protecting her? (978-1-60282-115-6)
Romantic Interludes 2: Secrets edited by Radclyffe and Stacia Seaman. An anthology of sensual lesbian love stories: passion, surprises, and secret desires. (978-1-60282-116-3)
Femme Noir by Clara Nipper. Nora Delaney meets her match in Max Abbott, a sex-crazed dame who may or may not have the information Nora needs to solve a murder—but can she contain her lust for Max long enough to find out? (978-1-60282-117-0)
The Reluctant Daughter by Lesléa Newman. Heartwarming, heartbreaking, and ultimately triumphant—the story every daughter recognizes of the lifelong struggle for our mothers to really see us. (978-1-60282-118-7)
Seduction of Moxie Page 24