The best noir fiction books from Next Chapter [March 2023]
Noir fiction, also known as hardboiled fiction or noir crime fiction, is a subgenre of crime fiction that emerged in the United States in the 1920s and 1930s. It is characterized by its gritty, cynical, and often bleak tone, as well as its focus on the lives of criminals and those on the margins of society. Noir fiction typically features morally ambiguous characters who are often driven by greed, lust, or revenge, and who are willing to resort to violence to achieve their goals.
One of the most notable features of noir fiction is its use of language. It often employs a terse, hard-edged style, with spare dialogue and vivid, descriptive prose that emphasizes the grim and gritty nature of the world in which the characters operate. Another key element of noir fiction is its depiction of urban landscapes, particularly the seedy underbelly of cities, with their dark alleys, dimly lit bars, and shadowy backstreets.
While it has its roots in the early 20th century, noir fiction remains popular today, with many contemporary writers continuing to explore its themes and motifs. It has also been adapted into numerous films, particularly in the 1940s and 1950s, where it became a major influence on the emerging genre of film noir.
On this page, we’ve rounded up some of our best noir fiction as of March 2023. All of the books here are available in eBook, paperback, and some in audio as well.
If you enjoy one of the stories below, please don’t forget to leave the author a review! Don’t agree with our choices? Please leave a comment and let us know your favorite :)
Books featured on this page
Santa Monica (LA Series Book 1) by Bo Dodge
Angkor Away (The Angkor Series Book 1) by Steven W. Palmer
Santa Monica (LA Series Book 1) by Bo Dodge
Book excerpt
It was one of those nights when West Sunset was practically deserted. No cars in the street, no trash in the gutters, not a taste of smog in the air. Jack, leaning back against the door in his suit and tie, his shades over his eyes, the ear in his ear, hands clasped as if he was praying they might let him in. The way Jack saw it, a bouncer was a creature of the night, like Travis Bickle in that new DeNiro flick.
He’d been on the job for a couple days now, felt less and less like a bouncer. He was a guard dog, Jack, that was his mission. He stood there, hours on end, a shadow, keeping Fats Foley’s club safe from the riffraff, the junkies, the homeless, the hookers, the lowlifes. Jack kept them all out. He didn’t judge them — but the simple act of denying them entry told them what he thought of them. Jack Spark, a soldier at his post, aloof from the street, where violence lay in wait. He stood there, rain or shine, parked beneath the Studio 74 marquis, in the mist, in the fog, in the exhaust spat out by passing cars.
Some nights the gutters ran with blood, with puke, with piss. He had no idea where it all came from, didn’t let it bug him. He just stood there, like Cerberus at the gate to the underworld, while the denizens of the LA night flowed by, fast and furious. He didn’t care who they were or what they looked like, just did his job, separated the wheat from the chaff. He was like a shepherd, bringing his little lambs in from the fields, protecting them from danger.
Stray Bullets by Paul D. Brazill
Book excerpt
Nobby Noble sits at his usual table in The Cosy Café. He’s sipping a mug of milky tea and he’s got a copy of today’s Sunday Times spread out across the table in front of him. He’s staring at the cryptic crossword like it’s a magic eye picture. He’s licking and biting his lips. Furrowing his brow, as if he’s deep in concentration. Not that Nobby understands the crossword clues, mind you. It’s all gibberish to him, for sure. He’s as thick as pig shit, is Nobby. But he does have a mate who always texts him the answers to the crossword, so he can look clever to the café’s punters, who aren’t exactly the sharpest tools in the box either. His phone buzzes and he reads the message.
Nobby smirks.
‘I think the answer to twenty-one down is Remembrance of Things Past,’ he says loudly.
A couple of prune-faced old men nod approvingly, clearly impressed.
Nobby sucks the end of his betting shop biro and then carefully writes in the answer. Smirking, he sticks the biro into his earhole and cleans out a load of wax. It doesn’t seem to bother him when he sucks on the pen later. He’s a class act is our Nobby.
I’m sat at a table near his, but Nobby doesn’t notice me, even though we’ve met a couple of times before. He doesn’t register me at all. But then, that’s Nobby all over-he’s so far up his own arse he could give himself an enema. I’ve just been paid quite a lot of money to kill Nobby. It’s not personal, of course. Though, I really can’t stand the bloke and won’t exactly be riddled with guilt after I croak him. Good riddance to bad rubbish and all that.
Malibu Burns by Mark Richardson
Book excerpt
The next day, Malibu pulled on another oversized dress and went back to work at the Kit Kat Club. She was working the night shift, so the place was hopping. The small, round cocktail tables were filled with tipsy women, while frisky young waitresses wearing high heels and fishnet stockings glided around the tables like river water flowing past rocks.
After about an hour, Max from the previous night pushed through the front door. He stood out like a sore thumb. His very presence changed the character of the room, as if the universe itself had been tilted on its axis. Still, no one bothered him—he was just ignored. Max wore a nearly carbon copy outfit to the one he had donned the day before—a dark suit with a white shirt and white gloves—only this time he had on a bow tie. His lips were still pushed down into a frown.
He approached the back of the room where Malibu had set up shop. “Will you draw my picture?” he asked.
“It takes some time.”
“I have time.” He sat down as Malibu flipped to a blank sheet of paper. “I’m Max,” he said.
“Of course.”
Angkor Away (The Angkor Series Book 1) by Steven W. Palmer
Book excerpt
The next few weeks passed quickly. I felt like I had purpose again for the first time since I had left Chiang Mai. Aya knew something was going on; she was more than intelligent sometimes; it was like she had a sixth sense. But she was also the type that unless she felt it was something that could negatively affect our relationship, she would not ask questions.
I was spending a lot of time online, using various encrypted email programmes on the Tor network to speak to some old friends back in Europe. I’d also contacted one of my prodigy chemists back in Chiang Mai and asked them to request an audience with the general. If I had asked him directly for a meeting, it would have come across, to him, as presumptuous farang assumption of being equals. Requesting an audience acknowledged my recognition of his position, power, and superiority to me. It may sound crazy to most Westerners, but it’s part of how to do business successfully here in South East Asia.
Pieces of the jigsaw began to come together. My crazy chemist friend in Holland was enthusiastic on the safrole aspects of the deal. And, in the usual way of these things, he also had someone close to him who was distributing weed across Europe and who had been complaining recently that demand was vastly outstripping supply. And this new player had several employees at Port of Rotterdam on his payroll, from dockers right through to a couple of senior customs officials. From there he was sending his shipments to virtually every corner of Europe by truck and had told me that he would gladly welcome an extra five tons per month as long as quality and price were good. Then I got an email from Chalerm in Thailand. The general was willing to see me. He was available on two days the following week and had reserved two suites at the Shangri-La in my name, suites that of course I would be expected to pay for.
Mind Games by David McGlone
Book excerpt
Joe Stander went from hotelier to traveller in less than a week. He got a good price for the Ambassador, not too good, but enough to pack up and go. With the children grown up and gone, he took his wife, Maude, on the cruise of a lifetime. A long one. He had always promised her that they would do this, he had always lied, but now? Now, he had money and too much time. Now, he needed space between him and the new owners of the Ambassador, a hotel he loved too much to see in another’s arms.
Steele gave the permanent guests some time to consider their options. They could make plans to leave…or leave now. They were not there long. Now he could get his tech man Gorman in. There was much work to be done.
In every workplace and staff group, he had eyes planted, spies for anything and everything that may prove useful. Humans were, and are, fallible, and prone to loyalty issues, so they needed watching too. For that he had Gorman, his camera supremo and trusted technology guru. Every room, be it for guests or staff, was fitted with at least one camera, often many. Every corridor and storeroom had electronic eyes, every entrance and exit. It all linked into a control room with multiple screens capable of looking into anything at any time. In certain places, the cameras were clearly on show, a sign of reassurance or a warning to behave, but many, many of the devices were undetectable. This was Gorman’s forte.
There you have it - the best noir fiction books from Next Chapter in 03/2023. We hope you enjoy the stories - and if you do, please leave us a review in your favorite store, or a comment below. It would mean a lot!
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