Pepper, it’s you and me now. Haven’t we been happy long as we stayed close?
Tag: Jersey City
After a few weeks the VW bug I drove, which I parked at night out by the gravel road a third of a mile from my house in the woods, was burgled.
In the 1950’s, I lived on The Barbary Coast—a five-block stretch that separated the “men only” taverns of Jersey City from the “women welcome” honkytonks of Union City . . .
To celebrate the release of his new novel South Haven, we’re pleased to feature author Hirsh Sawhney’s story from New Jersey Noir, edited by Joyce Carol Oates.
7:28 a.m. Geneva grabbed Roosevelt’s shoulder as he stood at his locker and turned him around. He rolled his eyes and went back to rummaging through his books. “We need to talk,” she said . . .
I had talked myself into a luxurious three-bedroom apartment in a classic Tudor building in Jersey City. It was 1969. Back then, a suit and a little grooming would suffice if accompanied by a few months’ rent . . .
The night before Christmas 1937, the taxi dancer calling herself DeLyria was murdered in the bath of a luxury, park-view apartment . . .
Featured: Black Interest
- Sale Amiri Baraka 3-for-1 Sale!
- The White House
- Trinidad Noir
- So Many Islands: Stories from the Caribbean, Mediterranean, Indian, and Pacific Oceans
- Gomer’s Song
- New-Generation African Poets: A Chapbook Box Set (Tano)
- The Freedom Artist
- Home Girl
- Pressure Makes Diamonds: Becoming the Woman I Pretended to Be
- Frederick Douglass in Brooklyn