Brothers of the Zodiac: Virgo

By Maxwell Thomas

In 1930’s Chicago, gangsters rule the streets. You’re either with them or you’re dead.

Joey has just lost his brother, and goes to get flowers for the funeral. The florist pays the Outfit, so he’s safe to do business with. But when the Outfit wants to collect more money from this humble florist, Joey finds out that the florist is not as kind and gentle as he first seems.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zarra Knightley Publishing
• Release date: Jun 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781946907301

Maxwell Thomas

A lifetime resident of Rhode Island, Maxwell Thomas has been writing fiction for over 30 years, focusing on gay male fiction, such as romance, erotica, mystery, or urban fantasy.

Book preview

Brothers

of the Zodiac

Virgo

Maxwell Thomas

copyright © 2018 by Maxwell Thomas

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for the purpose of review and/or reference, without explicit permission in writing from the publisher.

Cover design © 2018 by Niki Lenhart

nikilen-designs.com

Published by Zarra Knightley Publishing

zarraknightleypublishing.com

ISBN 978-1-946907-30-1 (EPUB)

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FIRST EDITION

Virgo

Chicago, Illinois

May 13, 1930

1

Joey Needles Esposito had better things to do than to go to the flower shop. His brother had just died, and he needed to be home with his mother. But Big Al wanted to send flowers, and this florist didn’t have a phone.

Let me pay for your family’s flowers, said Big Al. It’s the least I can do.

So Needles parked the car outside of Irv’s Flowers on Division Street in Chicago. A Jew in the north side of Chicago, where Al Capone and the Outfit controlled the street? That was some serious balls — or he had something on everyone.

Needles walked into the place. A bell tinkled above the door daintily, not angrily like a butcher shop’s. He frowned, which made him look, and feel, more ticked off at this stupid errand. Why didn’t this guy have a phone?

Be right with you, came a voice from the back of the store.

Needles looked around. He smelled the pungent roses, the deep earth of the greens; saw tulips, lilies, and carnations everywhere. He saw other flowers that he couldn’t name.

Sorry about that, said the man’s voice, now near him.

Needles stood in front of a glass counter. The man who came out from a curtained area to stand behind the counter was small, black-haired, and looked more Italian than Jewish. His hair was cut short, over his ears, and he wore