Excerpt & Giveaway – Ashes on the Wind by Brandy Purdy
Ashes on the Wind: The Love Story Behind The Crime of the Century
Genre: Historical Fiction, True-Crime Inspired
Setting – Chicago, Illinois 1920
Publisher : Independently published (April 15, 2024)
Paperback : 573 pages
Synopsis
Nathan “Babe” Leopold was a socially awkward genius who used arrogance as a shield. He cultivated a philosophy of absolute selfishness cherry-picked from his reading of Nietzsche and indulged himself with vivid sexual fantasies about kings and slaves.
Richard “Dickie” Loeb was the brightest of the bright young things, a social butterfly as fragile as glass inside, hiding his insecurities behind a dazzling smile and a mouthful of lies. He found escape in thrilling tales and fantasies of crime.
They were two brilliant and privileged boys, each harboring secrets it would have been social suicide to reveal in their 1920s world.
When Babe met Dickie, it was like his favorite fantasy had stepped out of his dreams into real life.
When Dickie met Babe, he thought he had found the accomplice who would help make his criminal dreams come true.
Dickie was willing to give Babe what he wanted, if Babe would give him what he wanted. Quid pro quo. Until Dickie wanted something more, leaving Babe desperate and willing to do anything to hold onto his dream. Even if it led down a dark path to the Crime of the Century and infamy as the thrill killers Leopold and Loeb.
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Excerpt
We were standing beside a big white Panhard-Levassor limousine. Dickie suddenly reached past me and opened the door and stepped up onto the running board.
“Drive me home, Babe?” he asked sweetly. “I don’t really feel like driving.”
“All right,” I agreed, sliding into the driver’s seat. I experienced a frisson of pleasure when my thigh briefly brushed against Dickie’s before he moved over to make room for me. “But, you know,” I added as the engine purred to life, “you really shouldn’t leave the key in the ignition, it’s terribly irresponsible…”
“And temptation is terribly hard to resist!” Dickie licked his lips and draped his arm across the back of the seat behind me. “Don’t you agree, Babe?”
I was thankful for the darkness that hid my blush…and my erection.
“Yes,” I gulped and slowly began inching that gigantic car out of the parking lot. “Gosh, this thing is enormous! It’s like trying to steer the Titanic around the iceberg! I hope I don’t hit anything!”
“I’m not worried about it at all!” Dickie assured me.
My heart swelled with pride. Knowing he had such confidence in me made me even more determined to successfully maneuver that great white whale of an automobile through the Chicago streets and bring it safely home without a dent or a scratch.
When we reached the Loebs’ Elizabethan style red brick mansion on Ellis Avenue I breathed a sigh of relief. I parked on the street outside the gate and sat staring at the most pretentious house in Kenwood. Sprawling across three entire lots, it boasted a private tennis court, greenhouse, gardens, and a goldfish pond. It even dwarfed the mansion of Mr. Loeb’s boss, Julius Rosenwald, the founder of Sears, Roebuck & Company.
“Friends?” Dickie offered me his hand.
“Friends!” I gladly shook it.
His mouth wasn’t that far from mine, but I lacked the courage to lean in and kiss him. There were moments when I was so sure he was flirting with me, but I always hung back and hesitated, afraid I was mistaken.
Dickie just sat there watching me, like he was waiting for me to say or do something. Finally, he took a pack of Dentyne gum from his pocket.
“Gum?” he offered.
“N-No thank you.”
And still he lingered, smacking his cinnamon gum with gusto and staring at me.
“Can I…Can I ask you something? S-Sometimes it seems like…Are you flirting with me?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it! Why? Would it bother you if I were?”
I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. “I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it!”
“Well, that’s maddeningly vague!” Dickie popped his gum.
“Yes, yes, it is,” I agreed.
Dickie laughed and opened the car door and climbed out.
I leaned out the window. “Should I leave your car here or…”
“It’s not my car; I don’t know whose it is! Good night, Babe, sweet dreams!” With a smile and a cheery wave Dickie disappeared behind the gate and bounded up the front steps, leaving me too stunned to speak.
About the Author
Brandy Purdy is the author of several historical novels including The Ripper’s Wife, The Secrets of Lizzie Borden, The Boleyn Wife, and The Tudor Throne.
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