Another Look: “Dead Men’s Plans”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



Left: Dead Men’s Plans, by Mignon G. Eberhart (Dell, 1954); cover illustration by Richard M. Powers. Right: Dead Men’s Plans, by Mignon G. Eberhart (Popular Library, 1963); with a truly disconcerting cover painting by William Teason.

Nebraska-born author Eberhart (1899-1996) is said to have had one of the longest—and most profitable—careers of any American crime-fictionist. Her debut novel, The Patient in Room 18 (1929), was selected last year as one of Time magazine’s “100 Best Mystery and Thriller Books of All Time.” It was also the first of seven medical mystery novels starring nurse Sarah Keate. Eberhart wrote many more standout standalones, among them The House on the Roof (1935), Danger in the Dark (1937), With This Ring (1941), and Five Passengers from Lisbon (1946). Dead Men’s Plans, about the inheritance of a shipping empire gone dangerously awry, saw print originally in 1952. Eberhart received the Mystery Writers of America’s Grand Master Award in 1971. Her final book, Three Days for Emeralds, appeared in 1988.

I am embarrassed to say I’ve never read Eberhart’s work, but intend to remedy that situation soon by picking up her fifth Keate tale, Murder of an Aristocrat, which was reissued in 2019 as part of Otto Penzler’s American Mystery Classics series. The write-up on Aristocrat calls it “a thrilling mystery set in the rarified world of a wealthy Midwestern family … [that] renders its pulse-pounding suspense and puzzling crimes with eloquent prose, exemplifying why Eberhart was widely known, in her day, as ‘the atmosphere queen.”

READ MORE: “Your Guide to Mignon Eberhart: America's Agatha Christie,” by Harry Pearson (Murder & Mayhem).

“Danger for Breakfast,” by John McPartland

Danger for Breakfast, by John McPartland (Gold Medal, 1956).

According to Wikipedia, John Donald McPartland was born in Chicago, Illinois, back in 1911, and later went on to train as an engineer. However, after serving with the U.S. Army in World War II, McPartland transformed himself into a journalist and author. His controversial but fairly successful non-fiction work, Sex in Our Changing World (1947), was described by The New York Times as “essentially a sermon” about how, since the war ended, “America has changed drastically from a sex-shy, inhibited people to a hedonistic, cynical people, openly in search of pleasure.” He followed up that debut in 1952 with Love Me Now, his first work of hard-boiled fiction.

McPartland subsequently composed Tokyo Doll (1953) and Affair in Tokyo (1954)—both influenced by the time he spent in the South Pacific as an Army reservist during the Korean War—as well as The Face of Evil (1954) and The Kingdom of Johnny Cool (1959), the latter of which was adapted into the 1963 film Johnny Cool starring Elizabeth Montgomery and Henry Silva. The novel that gained him the greatest attention, though, was No Down Payment, a tale of suburban sex, alcohol, and marriage troubles that reached print in 1957 and was soon transformed into a movie of that same title starring Joanne Woodward, Sheree North, and Tony Randall.

Danger for Breakfast, featuring paperback cover art by Barye Phillips, has been all but forgotten over the decades. Yet its back-cover plot précis shows the author’s taste for international intrigue:

She was half naked and sobbing when MacBride saw her first, in the fourth-floor corridor of a Tokyo hotel.

Pooled out around her were four men—one dying, one dead, and one ferociously hurt. MacBride had broken the throat of one and blinded another.

Her name was Dorrie Eden. She had copper-red hair and a wonderful body, and the secret she knew made her a living time bomb—the most dangerous woman alive in the East.

They assigned MacBride to Dorrie Eden. They told him to kill her and make it look like an accident.

It was a hell of a way to protect his country—because by then MacBride had fallen in love with her.

In all, McPartland published 11 novels, several of which remain in print (including a Stark House Press combo of Big Red’s Daughter and Tokyo Doll, and Centipede Press’ reprint of 1956’s I'll See You in Hell), and saw half a dozen of his screenplays produced. Unfortunately, his career was cut short by a heart attack in 1958, when he was 47 years old and living in Monterey, California.

Not until the settlement of his estate was it learned that the author had—as Time magazine put it—“lived as harum-scarum a life as any of his characters, had a legal wife and son at Mill Valley, Calif., [plus] a mistress at Monterey who bore him five children and who, as Mrs. Eleanor McPartland, was named the city’s 1956 ‘Mother of the Year.’ Later, McPartland’s legal widow submitted the daughter of an unnamed third woman as one of the novelist’s rightful heirs.”

“Hot Lips,” by Jack Hanley

Hot Lips, by Jack Hanley (Intimate, 1952).

I don't own this long-forgotten paperback novel, but in its 2019 write-up about Hot Lips, Pulp International said its story is

about an ‘all-girl’ orchestra called the Musical Queens and the things they do when boys aren’t around. Which we can understand. Just look at the male figure [on the cover], whose name is Pete. What exactly does he bring to this party? A sense of brooding entitlement? A vague homophobic hostility? The latter, for sure, since he lost his wife to another woman and is dismayed to find himself in sexual competition with the band’s man-hating sax player. Why does saxy Mona hate men? Because her husband turned out to be a drag queen. But all Pete has to do is wait a bit, because while the wholesome, virginal object of desire in this, Althea, may be tempted by wild musical lesbians, such assignations are never permanent in mid-century genre fiction. It’s heteronormativity or death—literally, sometimes. Put Hot Lips in the lesbians-are-bad bin with a pile of other novels from the period.

The party responsible for this tantalizing tale, Jack Hanley (1905-1963), has been described as “a novelist and television writer of no special talent, [who] specialized in racy material:” Among Hanley’s other works of fiction were Star Lust (1951), Very Private Secretary (1952), and New York Model (1953). He also penned non-fiction books, including Let's Make Mary: Being a Gentleman's Guide to Scientific Seduction in Eight Easy Lessons (1937).

As to the cover of Hot Lips, it was painted by Warren King (1916-1968). In addition to creating magazine illustrations and book covers, King was a longtime editorial cartoonist for the New York Daily News and a comic-book artist.

“Above Suspicion,” by Helen MacInness

Above Suspicion, by Helen MacInness (Fawcett Crest, 1981). Cover illustration by Ron Lesser. This same artwork was also used to front the 1983 Leisure Books mass-market paperback edition of The Microwave Factor, by Aaron Fletcher.

(Hat tip to Tim Hewitt.)

Another Look: “Striptease”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



Left: Striptease, by Georges Simenon (Hamish Hamilton UK, 1958); with an altogether spectacular cover illustration by an unidentified artist. Right: Striptease, by Georges Simenon (Penguin, 1963); cover painting by Romek Marber.​

“Close-Up,” by Len Deighton

A plot synopsis for this eighth novel by British pastry chef-turned-editor-turned-author Len Deighton reads:

Ageing Hollywood star Marshall Stone is scared. Scared that the parts are drying up. Scared of being forgotten. So when he hears an eminent author is writing his biography, Stone seizes the chance of immortality. But painful memories and suppressed scandals soon threaten to destroy the carefully-constructed fiction of his life. Inspired by Len Deighton's own experiences of the film industry, Close-Up is a brilliant exposé of the sleaze, venality and betrayals of the studio machine.

The Cover-Up wrapper showcased above and below comes from a softcover edition published in 1973 by Signet Books. I like the artwork a great deal, but the identity of its painter seems lost to history. Even Tim Hewitt, the South Carolina former tech writer and paperback collector to whom I often turn for such answers, is stumped.

“I really wish I had a definitive answer on this one,” he wrote to me recently, “but no such luck. I’ve always been inclined to think it’s Elaine Duillo. It’s easily within her style and reminds me of her covers for the Ron Goulart ‘Johnny Easy’ books. But there’s some other quality about it that I can’t quite put my finger on that makes me think it could possibly be Sanjulián. (The shading on the woman’s body; the hard line separating her from the camera in the background; something intangible?)

“Unfortunately, I don’t have anything to go on except feeling and impression. It’s too bad, because Close-Up is easily the best cover Len Deighton ever got, at least in the U.S.”

I guess we’ll just have to be content with the credit for this illustration being a mystery—at least for now.

When “Dolls” Come Out to Play

South Florida resident Robert Deis, with whom I worked on last year’s The Art of Ron Lesser Volume 1: Deadly Dames and Sexy Sirens, alerts me to this month’s release of its sequel, The Art of Ron Lesser Volume 2: Dangerous Dames and Cover Dolls, co-edited by Deis, Bill Cunningham, and Daniel Zimmer. I haven’t yet laid my hands on a copy, but here’s Amazon’s skinny on its intents and contents:

In the late 1950s, while studying with the legendary art teacher Frank J. Reilly at the Art Students League in New York City, Ron Lesser embarked on a long career as one of America’s top illustration artists. Over the next four decades, his artwork was used for thousands of paperback book covers, movie posters, magazines, and advertisements. Many great artists once made a good living doing such illustration artwork and Ron Lesser is among the greatest. He’s also one of the few who are still alive and still painting.

Like a number of other top 20th-century illustrators, Lesser went on to do paintings for galleries as the market for illustration art faded away in the 1990s. His gallery artwork includes Civil War and Western scenes, sports, celebrity portraits, and new versions of the types of subjects he once did for paperback covers. The Art of Ron Lesser Vol. 1 is the first in the series covering Ron's paperback, movie and advertising art. The Art of Ron Lesser Vol. 2 covers Ron's transition out of paperback illustration and into advertising, movie, and gallery illustration which he continues to this day.

In his Men’s Pulp Mags blog, Deis explains that Dangerous Dames and Cover Dolls “showcases scores of the paintings of sexy women Lesser has done in recent decades for galleries. Some are modern versions of the ‘dangerous dame’-style cover art he did for paperbacks in the 1960s and 1970s. Others are paintings of sexy celebrities such as Marilyn Monroe, Bettie Page, Brigitte Bardot, and Pam Anderson, and pop-culture characters like Vampirella, Red Sonja, and Harley Quinn.”

Like its predecessor, this book is said to include “commentary by Ron about his artwork and career.”

It sounds like a beautiful, fun follow-up to our previous work!

“The Tritonian Ring,” by L. Sprague de Camp

And what a lovely book front this is! It comes from the 1971 Paperback Library edition of The Tritonian Ring, by American science-fiction and fantasy writer Lyon Sprague de Camp (1907-2000), part of his Pusadian “sword and sorcery” series. Sadly, I don’t own this novel, so cannot judge it on any basis other than its cover. But a plot summary from Wikipedia reads:

When the gods resolve to destroy Lorsk, principal kingdom of the sinking continent of Pusad, because Prince Vakar, heir to its throne, is thought to be a threat to them, the king sends the prince on a quest to save the realm from destruction. Vakar is tasked with traveling the known world in search of what the gods most fear, accompanied only by his servant, Fual. He finds himself hampered by ignorance of just what that might be and continual attempts to murder him by parties unknown; meanwhile, his treasonous brother Kuros is plotting with the pirates of the Gorgon Isles, Lorsk's enemies, to overthrow their father. On his quest Vakar encounters Amazons, a seductive queen who is under a spell, an amorous centauress, sorcerers who command legions of headless warriors, and the dangerous Gorgonians themselves, masters of the medusas with their paralyzing glares.

I thought the willowy young woman shown above might be the “amorous centauress” in question; she’s clearly an essential character in de Camp’s yarn, being also represented on other versions of this book (such as this one). However, while said filly sports a tail, she lacks the horse’s aft end that I normally associate with such a mythical creature. Perhaps Midwestern artist David McCall Johnston decided that feature might not be universally appealing.

Johnston, born in South Bend, Indiana, back in 1940, painted a small number of SF covers. During the years he spent as a book-cover artist, he came to be known much better for his contributions to the fantasy-fiction field. You can enjoy more of his work here.

Another Look: “The Mad Hatter Mystery”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



Left: The Mad Hatter Mystery, by John Dickson Carr (Dell, 1953). This cover illustration is by Denver Gillen, perhaps best remembered for helping to create the image of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Right: The Mad Hatter Mystery, by John Dickson Carr (Berkley, 1958); cover art by Lu Kimmel. This was the second installment in Carr’s series starring Dr. Gideon Fell.

This Is How Human Kindness Works

Here’s a happy follow-up to a story we brought you in mid-July. A GoFundMe campaign launched to pay the housing and medical bills of renowned 95-year-old artist, art instructor, and author Jack Faragasso has exceeded its goal. His niece, Denise Acerra, was hoping to raise $10,000 for Faragasso’s care. When I went to look for an update yesterday, I discovered that $10,551 has been pledged, and GoFundMe now says, “This fundraiser is no longer accepting donations.”

Faragasso posted a note of appreciation on Facebook last week:

As I reflect today on my life, it is truly overwhelming to see how many beautiful fans and friends, including my students, have shown me so much kindness, generosity and support. I am honored and so humbled. Thank you Thank you Thank you all for purchasing my artwork, books and prints through the years. You all have truly blessed my life.

We wish Faragasso only the best for the future.

Behind an Overlooked McGinnis

(Above) Robert McGinnis’ “forgotten” Florinda front.

When Randal S. Brandt, a librarian at the University of California, Berkeley, went looking for background on Dana Wilson, the author of a peculiarly titled 1946 novel, Make with the Brains, Pierre, that he had acquired for the library’s California Detective Fiction Collection, he discovered there was more mystery in the writer’s identity than there was in Wilson’s “grim tale of psychological suspense.” As he explained recently for The Rap Sheet:

The book itself, including the original dust jacket, was no help at all. There is no author’s biography, photograph, or blurb on this edition. I didn’t even know if Dana was a man or a woman ..., or whether the name was real or a pseudonym. The Library of Congress, usually the authority on matters of book authorship, was no help whatsoever here. In its catalogue, the novel was entered under the simple heading of “Wilson, Dana,” which was linked to a composer and professor of music born in 1946. Nope, definitely not the author of this 1946 novel. The database contained entries for several other similarly named writers, but none were the one I was looking for. Disambiguating authors from one another and identifying them with the works that they produce is called, in library parlance, “authority control” and is a critical component of cataloguing, so I was determined to do something to distinguish Dana Wilson the mystery writer from the other Dana Wilsons.

Eventually, thanks to help from the genealogical database Ancestry, a vague dedication in the novel’s opening pages, and a soupçon of good fortune, Brandt succeeding in finding his answers. Wilson, it turns out, was a New York-born Hollywood actress who, following her divorce from Lewis Wilson—the first man ever to play Batman on film—went on to marry Albert R. “Cubby” Broccoli, one of two partners (Harry Saltzman being the other) now famous for bringing Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels to life on the silver screen.

Despite her modest success with Make with the Brains, Pierre (republished in paperback during the late 1940s as Scenario for Murder and Uneasy Virtue), Dana Broccoli produced only one more book: the 1977 hardcover release Florinda. Brandt describes it as “a historical novel set in 8th-century Spain, which was apparently inspired while [she and Cubby were] scouting locations for the Bond series.” The story’s protagonist is Florinda la Cava, or simply La Cava, said by Wikipedia to have “played a central role in the downfall of the Visigothic kingdom in Spain in 711. Although she was treated as historical in Spain for centuries, there is no evidence for her existence whatsoever and her name is certainly a later concoction.”

(Right) Dana Broccoli’s author portrait from the historical yarn Florinda.

Mere legend Florinda may be—the lover (or else the rape victim) of the last Visigothic king, Roderic, whose powerful father sought to avenge that dishonor by siding with Muslim conquerors against Roderic—but she appears every inch the callipygous seductress in the cover illustration for Broccoli’s Florinda shown atop this post, painted by renowned paperback and movie poster artist Robert McGinnis. How McGinnis came to be hired by Broccoli’s small publisher, Two Continents, to create that book front is a story now lost to time. The artwork itself has been largely forgotten, as well.

“Wow, Jeff! That’s an impressive piece,” replied Tim Hewitt, a former tech writer and paperback collector in South Carolina, after I asked him to confirm the identity of Florinda’s cover creator. “Yes, it’s McGinnis! After some close examination, I’m confident that’s McGinnis’ signature (what you can see of it) just below Dana Broccoli’s name on the cover. And honestly, if this isn’t McGinnis I’ll eat my hat, as the old saying goes.”

Art Scott, the co-author (with the painter himself) of 2014’s The Art of Robert E. McGinnis, concurs. “[A]s a self-made McGinnis authority,” he wrote me in a recent e-mail note, “I’ll sign off on this one as being genuine McGinnis. I also checked through my file of photos of the paintings held by Bob when we were working on the book, but didn’t expect to find Florinda—and didn't. I imagine it’s in the hand of the Broccoli heirs.”

Available copies of Broccoli’s novel are few and far between, and vary in price. Checking today, for instance, I see two to be had on the AbeBooks Web site—one going for a modest $33.75, the other valued at $150, both described as being in “fine” (or “as new”) condition. For a committed McGinnis fan, though, one to whom this art was previously unknown, cost may be of little significance.

Savage Attractions

With this year’s Pulpfest set to begin on August 1 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Michael Stradford—one of the foremost authorities on the paperback book cover modeling career of Steve Holland—notes that convention organizers have “posted a great video compilation of legendary illustrator Bob Larkin’s many Doc Savage covers for Bantam Books,” all featuring Holland. You can watch that here.

Every Little Bit Helps

As was recently noted on Facebook, a new GoFundMe campaign has been established to help 95-year-old artist, art instructor, and author Jack Faragasso. As you probably know already, Faragasso taught for a long while at the Art Students League of New York and is well-remembered for painting many paperback covers. (He even introduced “pin-up girl” Bettie Page as a paperback cover model!) But now he’s residing in an assisted living facility and confronting both health and financial difficulties.

As his niece, Denise Acerra, explains on GoFundMe:

He lived his entire life in a 4-story walk-up, rent-controlled apartment in NYC, until 4 years ago when he fell on the city street and broke his hip. After surgery, he needed extensive rehab in an attempt to make him able to walk up steps again to go home. Unfortunately, insurance ran out and he had to leave rehab. He needed care to dress and shower, plus more PT so we had no choice but to bring him to Assisted Living. We thought he would get stronger with more PT there, but the day he got there, Covid broke out and they were in lockdown. No PT was allowed in for a very long time and at that point, he had gotten so weak we knew he would never be able to go up or down steps again so we had to give up his rent-controlled NYC apartment. My uncle was very depressed and lonely, missing the only home he knew and in quarantine in a strange place with nothing familiar and no art supplies. We have since then set him up so he can once again paint and draw but financially it’s a great struggle. We have been selling his art in hopes of being able to pay this extraordinary rent but it’s just not enough. It’s so difficult when an elderly person needs care because the care is extremely expensive.

The goal is to raise $10,000 to cover Faragasso’s monthly rent and medical care. So far, only $3,930 has come in, from 55 people. If you can spare a few more dollars, go here to contribute.

Robert Deis, who with Bill Cunningham produces The Men’s Adventure Quarterly (and was my editor on The Art of Ron Lesser Volume 1: Deadly Dames and Sexy Sirens) notes that “Another way to help Jack Faragasso is to buy his books and prints of his artwork. Thanks to Paul Burke at Asylum Publications, you can get copies [of] Jack's classic art instruction books, books showcasing his photos of models like Bettie Page, and prints of his cover paintings and photos. Kudos to Paul and Asylum for helping Jack and for keeping his legacy alive. Jack's books and prints are available on Amazon (https://amzn.to/3S5Tit4) and on the Asylum website (asylumpublications.com/shop).”

Angel on the Lam

Sorry, everyone, for the long silence on this page. My last post went up at the end of March, and the one before that promised the imminent unrolling of a new series. Since then, I’ve experienced computer issues and the death of one of my closest friends. If you’re a reader of my other blog, The Rap Sheet, you will have noticed a drop-off in activity there as well, though not quite as serious.

My absence became persistent enough, that I received an anonymous comment here earlier this week, asking, “Where have you been?”

With any luck, this post marks my return. Yes, it will likely take some while to resume my normal blogging pace, but a start must be made. Therefore, I am bringing you today the latest Hard Case Crime paperback cover from artist Paul Mann, about whom I have written before. The Get Off—shown above—is due out in March 2025, and is the third hard-boiled novel from Christa Faust to feature her ex-porn star protagonist, Angel Dare. (The previous installments in that series were 2008’s Money Shot and 2011’s Choke Hold).

Hard Case Crime’s synopsis of the book’s plot reads:

Tagged as a cop killer when a mission of vengeance goes wrong, Angel Dare finds herself on the run, with an unexpected burden: she’s pregnant. Her desperate flight takes Angel across the rugged American west, where cattle barons lock horns with rodeo bullfighters and life can end suddenly and brutally. A renegade couple living off the grid near the border might offer a chance of escape—but can Angel reach them in time ...?

It’s hard to believe that almost a decade and a half has passed since Choke Hold reached stores. And that, according to Hard Case, The Get Off will conclude Angel Dare’s story.

You can read a sample chapter of Faust’s latest yarn here.

Another Look: “The D.A. Breaks an Egg”

Warning: Artistic inspiration drawn from book titles may vary.



An egg-cellent pairing for Easter. Left: The D.A. Breaks an Egg, by Erle Stanley Gardner (Cardinal, 1958); photo front. Right: The D.A. Breaks an Egg (Great Pan, 1959), with a cover illustration by Sam “Peff” Peffer. This was the ninth and final entry in Gardner’s series starring Douglas Selby, the scrappy district attorney for fictional Madison County, California.

Getting a Jump on Things

Happy Leap Day, gentle readers. This 1956 Ace Books cover of Leap in the Dark, by former actress and editor Rona Randall (aka Rona Shambrook), isn’t being highlighted today simply because of its title. It also hints at a project I have upcoming on this page, which will begin soon and likely run through most of March.

Meanwhile, a few words about the paperback novel at hand.

My Love-Haunted Heart, Sara Boyle’s terrific (but, sadly, no longer updated) blog about vintage Gothic romance novels, describes Leap in the Dark as “an interesting take on the mistaken identity plot twist.” She then synopsizes its plot thusly:

Jeanne Cleary is on her way to nursing college in London and on a whim hops off the train in a remote village in France. The station’s deserted so she follows a dusty path through the countryside leading her to the local chateau.

By a strange (very strange) coincidence, nurse-to-be Jeanne finds herself mistaken as an actual nurse (due to arrive that very day) who had recently been hired to look after the lady of the manor, Comtesse de Clementeaux.

Just as Jeanne decides to find a convenient time to break the news to her new found granny, another girl turns up—declaring herself to be Jeanne Cleary, the Comtesse’s granddaughter! The real Jeanne knows this new interloper is just a gold-digging impostor, but how can she reveal her true identity without breaking her own cover? So a sticky situation turns into a quagmire of confusion as our heroine battles to assert her rightful position within her newfound family and win the heart of the handsome Dr Paul Antoine.

The handsome painting that fronts Leap in the Dark was created by Italian-born artist Lou Marchetti (1920-1992), whose work has appeared on this page many times over the years. Boyle quips that “extra points [should be] given for this cover, as it’s refreshing to see a heroine dressed in something other than a floaty nightie.”

If you’re thinking this portends a similar demureness in the cover series I have planned for next month, fear not. There will be plenty of diaphanous attire and bared skin to admire. Stay tuned.

Happy Valentine’s Day to You, Too!

A Time to Love, by Noel O’Hara (Chariot, 1960), which seems like an ideal cover to showcase this week, when both Valentine’s Day and Mardi Gras are being celebrated. Cover painting by Basil Gogos. Enjoy Gogos’ original art for the book here.