Warning: This is a VERY taboo, vintage, hard-boiled full length (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even give a proper description.
*****
Lydia Phillips had called her husband, the manager of a large supermarket in East Orange, at work and told him to" get his ass home immediately. "She had just received a letter from Jerri.
They hadn't realized Jerri had disappeared until just the day before when a gossip column editor from one of the New York newspapers called to ask if they had heard from Jerri. They were shocked to find that their daughter was missing from the city. Where had she gone? What was she doing? Was she abducted? Hardly, Lydia figured, since her daughter had been able to sell all her things and buy a car.
In any case, Lydia and Ray were worried. They told their son Dave to go to New York and try his best to find out what happened to his sister and where she was. He was in the city when the letter arrived.
Ray Phillips, a slightly balding man of fifty-three, entered the front door of his house only to find his wife pacing the length of the living room. Lydia Phillips was a large woman, younger by five years than her husband, who was given either to yelling or crying in an upsetting situation.
"SHE'S IN NEW MEXICO!" Lydia screamed as Ray walked into the room. "She's a HIPPIE! My daughter, a HIPPIE!" And she burst into tears and sat in a chair.
*****
Lydia Phillips had called her husband, the manager of a large supermarket in East Orange, at work and told him to" get his ass home immediately. "She had just received a letter from Jerri.
They hadn't realized Jerri had disappeared until just the day before when a gossip column editor from one of the New York newspapers called to ask if they had heard from Jerri. They were shocked to find that their daughter was missing from the city. Where had she gone? What was she doing? Was she abducted? Hardly, Lydia figured, since her daughter had been able to sell all her things and buy a car.
In any case, Lydia and Ray were worried. They told their son Dave to go to New York and try his best to find out what happened to his sister and where she was. He was in the city when the letter arrived.
Ray Phillips, a slightly balding man of fifty-three, entered the front door of his house only to find his wife pacing the length of the living room. Lydia Phillips was a large woman, younger by five years than her husband, who was given either to yelling or crying in an upsetting situation.
"SHE'S IN NEW MEXICO!" Lydia screamed as Ray walked into the room. "She's a HIPPIE! My daughter, a HIPPIE!" And she burst into tears and sat in a chair.