Um... let me call you back. I've got a really hairy situation I need to handle.
Bill Edwards, the king of comical facial expressions, strikes again on this cover for Love's Final Act, written by Mark Daniels, 1964, for Saber Books. Daniels wrote a few other sleazers, including Wake Up with a Stranger and Lust of a Wanton. The latter cover is in our wanton soup collection, which you can see here.
Her situation is already bad, but as it unfolds it gets even worse.
A woman in a dire situation stars on this cover for Jack Leech's 1963 sleaze novel Satan's Daughters (interestingly, while Leech is credited as author on the outside, John Trimble gets credit inside, so take your pick). The artist here is Bill Edwards, and this is another foldout effort he painted for Europa Books. We love these things, but we wish there were more. As we mentioned previously, there are probably only five.
It's not me. And it's certainly not you. So then who is this alleged virgin everyone is so jazzed about?
Above, random sleaze from Tropic Books and Allan Horn, A Virgin in Their Midst, published in 1966 with cover art from Bill Edwards. We've seen a lot of Horn over the years, from A Taste of H to The Teaser. We haven't yet been tempted to buy one of his books, but don't be surprised if we get Horny eventually. If we do we'll report back.
30 minutes or less? Great— Uh, actually cancel that. I'll pick it up. I just realized I have to head that direction anyway.
Above, the cover of Sin Mill, by Robert M. Duffy, for Vega Books, copyright 1967. The art, which is by Bill Edwards, suggests far more than what happens in the story. While the main character Lucy does go into the Three Nickels brothel to use the phone—wearing a full winter outfit, not a coat over a nightie—and is mistaken by a naked customer for a prostitute before sprinting from the place, Sin Mill isn't really the sleaze novel it appears to be. Duffy wrote this with serious intent, a mostly uninspired examination of a poor country girl's attempt to get through college and into a better life. If there's one thing we hate it's false billing. When you sign up for a sleaze novel you should get a sleaze novel.
I'm glad you boys are so eager. To start off, I'm going to watch you do it with each other for an hour or so.
Above, a cover for The Wide Bed by Brenda Porter, a sleaze novel about a girl who loves her father as both as a provider and as someone central to her nascent sexual desires, and who, when daddy dies, finds she needs two men to take his place. We just... what can you say about these sleaze authors, other than that any idea would suffice? This one caught our eye thanks to the Bill Edwards art, identifiable both by style and by the beauty mark on his female figure. 1965, from Saber Tropic. See more Bill here.
Don't let him get away girls! He's handsome, he's got money, and his digital history is squeaky clean!
This is a rather funny cover for A.J. Davis's sleazer Man in Demand. These days, only a digital history that can't come back to cause major embarrassment could get women this hot. We're talking no porn memberships, zero Facebook pix in problematic Halloween costumes, and no late night Twitter gaffes. Good thing we already have girlfriends, because the crazy searches we do for Pulp Intl. alone would be enough to sink us. Some of the movie and book titles are astonishing. Top five all-time searches in Pulp Intl. history that have garnered crazy results:
1: Humiliated Nun
2: Teenage Sex Report
4: Prostitute Torture Hell
5: Cannibal Holocaust
Just do an image search on any of those terms with your filters off and you may need therapy—and a new computer. A.J. Davis obviously had something more mundane in mind in 1967, when he published Man in Demand, but even that title brings up some very interesting stuff. Davis was a pseudonym for James Burgin Dockery, Jr., and as usual, the art on this Saber-Tropic paperback is uncredited, but the trademark mole on pursuer no. 1's face indicates that the cover is by good old Bill Edwards. See more from him here. And here. And what the hell, here too.
That stained old sofa, as you call it, is an authentic Hollywood casting couch.
As always, the mole on the female figure's cheek serves as the signature of artist Bill Edwards. Here he handles the cover work on They Paid with Flesh by Tony Marcus. This tale is, shall we say, Weinsteinian in nature, as a middle aged producer beds aspiring actresses, while a young studio fixer tries to locate a missing starlet. Their paths intersect when the producer beds the fixer's ex, who he still may have feelings for. That's a perfectly workable set-up for a story, but instead the increasingly convoluted plot first veers off into a scheme to steal four million dollars from a deposed dictator who's planning a counterrevolution, and later focuses on the starlet's plan to change her identity through cosmetic surgery, though the doctor she's chosen is a serial killer. Did we say convoluted? We meant labyrinthine. But ultimately They Paid with Flesh is sleaze, so the plot pivots are mere lead-ins for explicit sex, in all its typical variations, and a couple that aren't typical—or even legal. We'd like the time we spent on this returned to us, but we'd also like a riad in Marrakech, and we aren't getting that either.
A constant clicking noise? I don't hear anything. Anyway, state your full legal name then let's get into some compromising positions.
The cover for Arnold Marmor's Ruthless Fraternity features possibly the least hidden camera in paperback history, but you have to love the art anyway. We've seen several blackmail covers, and they're tricky in that the artists are constrained by having to show both the camera and the intended victim of the set-up. It always turns out ridiculous in terms of believability, but they're always fun covers. The fraternity of the title is not literal. It refers to the proverbial journalistic boys club, and the story deals with the ins and outs, double-dealing, and machinations of a scandal magazine called Tell. We've featured Arnold Marmor books twice before, but had no idea how prolific the guy was. He wrote such sleazers as Bed Bait, Lust Lodge, and Boudoir Treachery, but also dabbled in spy novels and short stories. We'll probably run into him at a later date. This effort was 1960 and the art is by Bill Edwards.
What the hell are you doing? Casual Friday starts next week.
It's another humorous Bill Edwards cover for Saber Books, this time fronting Jack Moore's 1965 sleazer Party Girl. Wanna know what it's about? No need to be coy. We read them so you don't have to. Twenty year-old Sally Logan applies for an executive secretary position and is immediately made into a sex object, starting from the interview when the company president quizzes her about her bedroom habits, and the personnel manager makes her strip so he can check out her body. It's ridiculous, of course, especially in 2017's cultural landscape, but this being sleaze Sally is willing to do anything—just anything—to please her boss. And after all, the reason she decided to seek work in the first place was to meet a man. Mission accomplished. And accomplished again. And again. A good book? Of course not, but at least everyone gets a happy ending. And as a side note, we'd be remiss if we didn't thank Bill Edwards for being so good to us over years—his are by far the easiest covers to caption. Check here, here, here, and here to see what we mean.
Cuban program to clone Fidel Castro goes horribly wrong. Multiple Castros result—but all are rampaging capitalists.
The lead character in Dave Patrick's 1965 novel Patterns of Sin is a college professor and ex-CIA operative named Thomas Keith who happens to be a millionaire. Only in sleaze fiction, right? When his latest girlfriend is almost kidnapped by rogue Cubans, he suspects there's more to her than meets the eye, and there is—she fled to the U.S. after some particularly sticky island dealings involving a long lost twin brother/incestuous lover who was a famed counter-revolutionary. Sadly, there are no clones, but who needs 'em? The incest angle is weird enough: “Tom had so reminded her of her brother that she'd almost called him by her brother's name as they made love.” She actually tells Thomas about her brother, and he's fine with it.
“Are you sure, Tom?” she whispered.
“Do the other women I've had bother you?”
“No, but men are supposed to be different. They're supposed to want virgins.”
“Every girl's a virgin to me, until I've made love to her.”
The government is interested in Tom's girlfriend and her Cuban connection, so he's brought back into the CIA, given a hot partner and—this being a sleaze novel—the partner is a woman with whom he has a steamy history. But they don't get together—the partner is gay now, prefers the Cuban girlfriend, and gets her. Thomas's reaction? “It's a waste of a beautiful woman as far as I'm concerned, but it's your life.” You may be wondering if there's any actual plot here. Not enough to matter. The anti-commie aspect is a mere placeholder between love scenes. The book was bad. We knew it would be bad. But we had to find out what it was about. It wasn't about clones the way the cover art might make you think, but maybe it should have been. That art, by the way, is by Bill Edwards—the mole on his female figures always gives it away.
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1960—Woodward Gets First Star on Walk of Fame
Actress Joanne Woodward receives the first star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the Los Angeles sidewalk at Hollywood Boulevard and Vine Street that serves as an outdoor entertainment museum. Woodward was one of 1,558 honorees chosen by the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce in 1958, when the proposal to build the sidewalk was approved. Today the sidewalk contains more than 2,300 stars.
1971—Paige Enters Baseball Hall of Fame
Satchel Paige becomes the first player from America's Negro Baseball League to be voted into the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York. Paige, who was a pitcher, played for numerous Negro League teams, had brief stints in Cuba, Mexico, Puerto Rico, and the Major Leagues, before finally retiring in his mid-fifties.
1969—Allende Meteorite Falls in Mexico
The Allende Meteorite, the largest object of its type ever found, falls in the Mexican state of Chihuahua. The original stone, traveling at more than ten miles per second and leaving a brilliant streak across the sky, is believed to have been approximately the size of an automobile. But by the time it hit the Earth it had broken into hundreds of fragments.
1985—Matt Munro Dies
English singer Matt Munro, who was one of the most popular entertainers on the international music scene during the 1960s and sang numerous hits, including the James Bond theme "From Russia with Love," dies from liver cancer at Cromwell Hospital, Kensington, London.
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