Long Island Noir

By Kaylie Jones

“Plenty of mayhem for fans of dark fiction . . . Suburbia may be even meaner than the big city.” —The New York Times
 
Long Island may bring to mind quiet middle-class homes among leafy trees and lawns, or the glitzy enclaves of the Gold Coast and the Hamptons. But this gigantic stretch of land jutting out into the Atlantic Ocean, home to nearly eight million people, can also be home to schemes, scandals, and various criminal activities. This volume collects an assortment of noir short stories set in Nassau and Suffolk counties—among them “The Shiny Car in the Night” by Nick Mamatas, selected for inclusion in The Best American Mystery Stories 2013.
 
Original stories by: Jules Feiffer, Matthew McGevna, Nick Mamatas, Kaylie Jones, Qanta Ahmed, Charles Salzberg, Reed Farrel Coleman, Tim McLoughlin, Sarah Weinman, JZ Holden, Richie Narvaez, Sheila Kohler, Jane Ciabattari, Steven Wishnia, Kenneth Wishnia, Amani Scipio, and Tim Tomlinson.
 
“New stories as diverse as the massive island itself . . . even the Hamptons have a wrong side of town.” —Kirkus Reviews
 
“An eclectic and effective mix of seasoned pros and new voices.” —Publishers Weekly

• Language: English
• Publisher: Akashic Books
• Release date: Apr 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781617751158

Book preview

This collection is comprised of works of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by Akashic Books

©2012 Akashic Books

Series concept by Tim McLoughlin and Johnny Temple

Long Island map by Aaron Petrovich

Boob Noir ©2012 Jules Feiffer; Summer Love ©2012 JZ Holden

eISBN-13: 978-1-61775-115-8

ISBN-13: 978-1-61775-062-5

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011943446

All rights reserved

First printing

Akashic Books

PO Box 1456

New York, NY 10009

[e-mail]

www.akashicbooks.com

ALSO IN THE AKASHIC NOIR SERIES:

Baltimore Noir, edited by Laura Lippman

Barcelona Noir (Spain), edited by Adriana V. López & Carmen Ospina

Boston Noir, edited by Dennis Lehane

Bronx Noir, edited by S.J. Rozan

Brooklyn Noir, edited by Tim McLoughlin

Brooklyn Noir 2: The Classics, edited by Tim McLoughlin

Brooklyn Noir 3: Nothing but the Truth edited by Tim McLoughlin & Thomas Adcock

Cape Cod Noir, edited by David L. Ulin

Chicago Noir, edited by Neal Pollack

Copenhagen Noir (Denmark), edited by Bo Tao Michaëlis

D.C. Noir, edited by George Pelecanos

D.C. Noir 2: The Classics, edited by George Pelecanos

Delhi Noir (India), edited by Hirsh Sawhney

Detroit Noir, edited by E.J. Olsen & John C. Hocking

Dublin Noir (Ireland), edited by Ken Bruen

Haiti Noir, edited by Edwidge Danticat

Havana Noir (Cuba), edited by Achy Obejas

Indian Country Noir, edited by Sarah Cortez & Liz Martínez

Istanbul Noir (Turkey), edited by Mustafa Ziyalan & Amy Spangler

Las Vegas Noir, edited by Jarret Keene & Todd James Pierce

London Noir (England), edited by Cathi Unsworth

Lone Star Noir, edited by Bobby Byrd & Johnny Byrd

Los Angeles Noir, edited by Denise Hamilton

Los Angeles Noir 2: The Classics, edited by Denise Hamilton

Manhattan Noir, edited by Lawrence Block

Manhattan Noir 2: The Classics, edited by Lawrence Block

Mexico City Noir (Mexico), edited by Paco I. Taibo II

Miami Noir, edited by Les Standiford

Moscow Noir (Russia), edited by Natalia Smirnova & Julia Goumen

Mumbai Noir (India), edited by Altaf Tyrewala

New Jersey Noir, edited by Joyce Carol Oates

New Orleans Noir, edited by Julie Smith

Orange County Noir, edited by Gary Phillips

Paris Noir (France), edited by Aurélien Masson

Philadelphia Noir, edited by Carlin Romano

Phoenix Noir, edited by Patrick Millikin

Pittsburgh Noir, edited by Kathleen George

Portland Noir, edited by Kevin Sampsell

Queens Noir, edited by Robert Knightly

Richmond Noir, edited by Andrew Blossom, Brian Castleberry & Tom De Haven

Rome Noir (Italy), edited by Chiara Stangalino & Maxim Jakubowski

San Diego Noir, edited by Maryelizabeth Hart

San Francisco Noir, edited by Peter Maravelis

San Francisco Noir 2: The Classics, edited by Peter Maravelis

Seattle Noir, edited by Curt Colbert

Toronto Noir (Canada), edited by Janine Armin & Nathaniel G. Moore

Trinidad Noir, edited by Lisa Allen-Agostini & Jeanne Mason

Twin Cities Noir, edited by Julie Schaper & Steven Horwitz

Wall Street Noir, edited by Peter Spiegelman

FORTHCOMING:

Bogotá Noir (Colombia), edited by Andrea Montejo

Buffalo Noir, edited by Brigid Hughes & Ed Park

Jerusalem Noir, edited by Sayed Kashua

Kansas City Noir, edited by Steve Paul

Lagos Noir (Nigeria), edited by Chris Abani

Manila Noir (Philippines), edited by Jessica Hagedorn

St. Petersburg Noir (Russia), edited by Natalia Smirnova & Julia Goumen

Seoul Noir (Korea), edited by BS Publishing Co.

Staten Island Noir, edited by Patricia Smith

Venice Noir (Italy), edited by Maxim Jakubowski

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright Page

INTRODUCTION

A NEW KIND OF GREEDY TENSION

Summers in the Hamptons were always wild and crazy, even in the late ’70s when my family moved out east to Sagaponack. On the weekends in July and August the crowds would surge in from up the island and the city, and the bars, restaurants, and beaches were abuzz with an easygoing excitement rife with possibility. But as the Hamptons became more popular with a richer crowd—Hollywood stars, financial magnates, even politicians—a new kind of greedy tension filled the air, and even the locals were infected. Once, when I was out visiting my mother, I overheard a guy I’d known in high school, a builder, telling people at a bar that last year he’d put in a brand-new brick deck for this CEO prick’s wife, but this year the guy’s new girlfriend wanted to make a statement, so she told the builder to tear out the bricks and put in a cedar deck instead. I told her $150,000, he laughed. She didn’t blink an eye. Then he tried to sell us the bricks.

Pretty soon the fields in Sagaponack were gone, replaced by mansions, each one bigger than the last, as if it were some kind of pumpkin-growing contest. And still, no one seemed content; not on the beach, where mobile phones were constantly ringing; not in line at the supermarket or outside the nightclubs; and certainly not stopped dead in stultifying midday traffic. Well, it’s still traffic, whether you’re in a Mercedes-Benz or a Honda Civic. Now, the truly rich fly out in private planes, adding to the general racket.

It’s almost as if the whole world has caught Gatsbyitis. And what an amazing, prescient book that was. The Great Gatsby could be seen as the first noir novel of Long Island—a poor boy who doesn’t have two cents to rub together falls for a rich girl who would never marry him. So he makes himself a massive fortune the only way he can—illegally. And buys himself a mansion on Long Island. Despite his fortune he is never truly accepted, never truly safe, comfortable, or content. And of course, she leaves him because he’ll never be part of her set.

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s mansions of Great Neck and Little Neck are still there, lording imposingly over their lesser neighbors. The American dream of suburban bliss has never died, only grown more desperate, more materialistic, and less romantic as it has shoved its way further east, until now there is literally nowhere left to go. The Hamptons I knew and loved are gone forever.

The most die-hard fans of noir fiction may find a few of these stories a little gris. Not everyone here is literally down and out, though spiritually, they’ll give you a run for your money. A wealthy grandmother abandons her young grandson on a public beach in a moment of rage, putting his life in danger. A Northport hood is willing to murder his own brother for ratting out the local mob. An upper-class Pakistani woman almost dies in childbirth, a victim of severe marital abuse, yet she refuses to speak out. The president of a wealthy synagogue robs his donors blind in a ponzi scheme, including his staunchest supporter, a Holocaust survivor. They are all characters driven by some twisted notion of the American Dream, which they feel they must achieve at any cost. This is real-life noir. These people are our neighbors.

* * *

I heard this story at a dinner party once. Kurt Vonnegut, who lived on our street in Sagaponack and was a family friend I wish I’d known better, was invited to a summer cocktail party at the Hamptons home of some billionaire CEO. At the party, someone asked Kurt, How does it feel to know this guy makes more money in a day than you will ever make in your lifetime? After a moment, Kurt responded calmly that he didn’t mind at all, because he had something the CEO would never have.

What’s that? the person challenged.

Enough.

These are stories about people who will never feel they have enough, whether they have everything they ever dreamed of, or nothing at all.

Kaylie Jones

February 2012

PART I

FAMILY VALUES

GATE WAY TO THE STARS

BY MATTHEW MCGEVNA

Mastic Beach

Great with fear, Nick was deliberate about getting out of his car just as the policeman had told him. The order came after Nick was ordered to cut the engine because the noise from his broken muffler was waking up the neighbors. It was seven p.m. Late January. Nick was just about to cross over the Jessup Lane Bridge, which led to Dune Road in Westhampton Beach, a strip of wealthy homes built on a barrier island. Nick knew that the gravelly sound of his muffler roaring past Main Street would draw the attention of the village cops. He had no delusions. Even if he’d somehow gotten over the bridge, he’d still have the bay constable to deal with. It wasn’t that he picked his poison—his poison had picked him. He’d seen the reflector strips on the doors of the cop car just as he rounded the tall hedgerow and he knew he was caught—no time to debate whether he should try to make for the bridge, before the lights spun suddenly behind him. They illuminated the interior of his car. He could practically read the e-mail he’d printed out—between his sixteen-year-old brother Jeffrey and the lowlife who’d invited him to his beach house. In the dead of winter, it wouldn’t be hard to narrow down the few houses with the lights still on inside, and fortunately The Famous Mr. Ed provided the address and a description of his house (which he warned Jeffrey he’d never find—buried as it was behind all the ivy and scrub pine). A white, circular observation tower rising from the roof where I do all my meth and meditation, he’d written. Thank you, Facebook. Nick was lucky Jeffrey was somewhat readable—lucky that he’d paid attention one day to Jeffrey’s favorite song, Janis Joplin’s Summertime. Nick was only half-listening.

One of these mornings, Nick, you’re gonna rise up singing, he’d said.

By rise up, you mean OD and choke on my puke? Nick remembered joking.

But Jeffrey shot off, You don’t get it, before he could detect Nick’s humor. Trying to have one of those brotherly moments.

Earlier tonight, somehow Nick had remembered this, and with his mother sobbing in the other room, he went on Facebook and tried to hack into Jeffrey’s account, using any variation of Joplin’s song he could think of, before finally getting in with RISEUP. He’d gone straight to Jeffrey’s inbox and found two messages. One from their father. It had been awhile, but Nick recognized the shape of his own mouth in his father’s profile pic and shook his head in disbelief. Dad wasn’t on Jeffrey’s friends list, but there was a message waiting nonetheless, and the photo was an old one, from back when their father still lived with them. Back when he was a fairly quiet spectator, moving when Nick’s mother told him to move, remaining still when it seemed best to do so. It was taken before his father finally muttered to Nick in the middle of the night that he’d measured out his life in coffee spoons, and then got into his truck and pulled out of the driveway.

The note was brief but infuriating to Nick. How are you, where have you been, what’re you doing? For a moment Nick felt the urge to delete it. Instead, he rolled his eyes and moved on to the second message. Mr. Ed. Age: 16. Hometown: Oz.

Quote: Haytas only make me stronga. The message to Jeffrey was written in the voice of God.

Good and faithful servant Jeffrey. Thou willest visit the house of true Dionysian worship: the 1333rd house of Dune Road, and thou shalt participate in much celebration and mirth, and thou must see that it is good, when one ascends Jacob’s ladder to the observation tower, where I myself do all my meth and meditation …

Douche bag. Nick printed the message and Googled the address. A photo of the house popped up in the search. From one of the local newspapers. It was a photo of two old men and an old woman. The caption read: Donna and Leonard Katzenberg donated $5,000 to Edward Schiffer’s charity at his home reception at 1333 Dune Road this weekend. Nick printed the article and read it while he drove out of Mastic Beach.

Edward Shiffer, the Famous Mr. Ed, hadn’t seen sixteen since 1970. An investment broker who owned a string of hotels. Nick had no idea what he was going to do when he got there, but before he even found his keys and told his mother he was bringing Jeffrey home, he’d grabbed his old Ken Griffey Jr. Rawlings bat—thirty-two ounces, and cherry-stained, with dings in the barrel from hitting rocks when he was younger. As he read the article he began to form in his mind exactly what he wanted to do, but probably wouldn’t. At the very least, the bat just might scare Ed Shiffer enough into getting facedown and not moving until he and Jeffrey were gone.

It was never going to work, Nick thought, and getting pulled over just before he crossed the bridge didn’t come without a little bit of relief. Perhaps he’d get the cop to do something legal. A little less violent. Something that might get Jeffrey some help and nab a pervert at the same time.

But the conversation got off to a bad start. The moment Nick said good evening, the cop said, Stick your good evenings, give me your license and registration, which Nick had at the ready. The cop took them. Said nothing until a smile of disbelief washed across his face and he shook his head. How did I know you were from Mistake Beach? he said. Nick said nothing. I’m from there originally, the cop added.

Nick said, Oh yeah? and the cop looked at him suddenly.

Originally, he repeated. Pineway.

I’m on Mayfield, Nick said, though he knew the cop had his license and could read. The cop gave him another look, as if to close the gap of familiarity.

Are you bragging or complaining about that? Hope you’re complaining.

What?

All right, step out of the car, the cop said, backing away from his door. He tucked Nick’s information into his front pocket. Nick tried to ask him what he was stopped for, but the cop barked his order again and it startled him. Then he told him to cut the engine—that he was waking the neighbors— and, for the third time, to step out of the car.

I know it’s not the quietest muffler, Nick said when he got out, but the cop cut him off by nudging him back against the car.

It’s not just the muffler. You also got a broken taillight, and you got a sticker on your back window obstructing your view, and your insurance is a week expired.

I didn’t notice all that.

Of course you didn’t—just like every other kid from Mastic I stop out here. What are you doing here?

My brother—

You robbing houses?

No, my brother—

What about your brother?

My brother has been missing for the past two days, and I think he’s up in a house on Dune Road.

Why would he be there?

He’s got a drug problem.

Are you bragging or complaining about that?

Nick paused. I guess I’m complaining, he said.

Well, complain to your psychiatrist, not to me. Okay, what’s the rest of your bullshit story?

It’s not bullshit, there’s a guy on Dune Road who met him over the Internet and invited him to a drug party. Look, I’ll show you the e-mail. Without asking permission, he turned and ducked through the open window of the driver’s side door. He felt a sudden force yank him back, and he was instantly on the ground with a knee in his ribs.

You looking to get shot! the cop screamed. You never reach into your car like that—what are you reaching for? The cop jerked him up off the ground and slammed him on the trunk. Nick yelled that he was sorry, but the cop told him to stick his sorries; to keep his palms and his right cheek down on the trunk. Then he went around to the passenger’s side of Nick’s car and yanked the door open. He grabbed the papers, including the e-mail. Stuffing them into his back pocket, he ripped open the glove box and pulled everything out. He moved to the seat cushions, the door pockets, and ran his hands under the seat.

Where’s the weapon? he yelled. Nick said he didn’t have one, keeping his face on the trunk. Bullshit, everybody in your town’s got some weapon. Never stopped one that didn’t.

From then on Nick would only answer direct questions. His knees could hardly hold his weight. His chest ached. He wanted to vomit.

He was reminded of why he’d never tried to help his brother. The last time was in the sixth grade. Jeffrey was eight. It was the day after the Fourth of July, and Jeffrey had gone off with friends to collect fireworks that hadn’t exploded—either because they were duds, had bad fuses, or were dropped by someone in all the excitement. His friends kept beating him to the prize—grabbing the spare firecrackers, bottle rockets, and jumping jacks before Jeffrey could reach them.

He came home crying, holding out three broken firecrackers in his palm while he rubbed his eyes and told Nick his friends weren’t being fair. One of them even tackled him to the ground, punched his ribs, and snatched the jump rope Jeffrey had found fair and square.

Nick rode his bike down to the kid’s house and called him out, shaking his fists at the front window. But the kid stepped out with his three older brothers: thirteen, fourteen, and sixteen.

Nick limped back home. His bike had been thrown over the fence into a sump. And the only thing Jeffrey could think to do was get mad that Nick hadn’t recaptured his jumping jacks for him, and storm into the house, slamming the door. He didn’t even stick around to hear Nick’s side of things.

The front door of the car slammed, and the cop had opened the back door to continue his search. It took seconds for him to see the bat lying across the backseat and exclaim, Ah, I thought so! He showed Nick the bat with a satisfied smile.

I play baseball from time to time, Nick said, which was a lie.

And what were you planning to do with this tonight?

Nothing, Nick said, which was the truth.

We’ve had three smash-and-grabs this month on Dune Road. Think I got the guy who did ’em?

What’s a smash-and-grab? Nick asked.

The cop came around the car, grabbed Nick’s shoulder, and flipped him over so he was faceup. Then he waved the bat at him.

You’re in enough trouble as it is, you wanna be a fuckin’ wise-ass, I’ll jam this bat right down your throat. You’ve been smashing windows and stealing shit from cars.

I have not! Nick said.

Then why do you have this?

I told you, I was heading over to that guy’s house. He’s got my brother.

"So you were gonna do something with it—a minute ago you play baseball, now you’re gonna use it on someone?"

I don’t know why I took the bat, Nick said.

Just shut the fuck up before you make it worse on yourself. You got any drugs on you?

What? No!

I’m going into your pockets, if I stick myself on a needle you’re a dead piece of white, Mastic trash, you hear me? I’ll ask you once more.

I don’t do drugs, Nick said I’m a sophomore in college.

But the cop said that meant nothing, and after the lie about the bat he didn’t believe a word he said. He had probable cause to search him. He recited his legal cover all while clutching at the outside of Nick’s pockets. Nick could see the cop’s breath pulsing into the cold night past his shoulder, as the cop rifled through his pockets. He came out with a few dollars and put them on the trunk. The wind blew them onto the street. Nick reached to catch them, which earned him another face-plant onto the trunk.

Are you seriously on something? the cop asked. Nick thought it was rhetorical, until the man stepped back and told him to undress. Nick must have looked as if he’d never heard English before. The cop repeated it, and told him he needed to complete his search.

It’s January, Nick said.

You wanna cooperate and get undressed here, or in jail? It makes no difference to me—I still get a paycheck.

Nick pulled his jacket off, slowly, while shaking his head. The cop told him to throw the jacket on the ground toward him. He did. The cop picked it up. Same with the shirt. Then the pants. He collected them all. His dirty sneakers, his socks. He told Nick he could pull his underwear down below his balls, turn slowly around, and then pull them back up. It was then that Nick first felt the cold—when a solid wind coming in from the bay slid through his underarms.

Good—sit on the trunk of your car.

Nick asked for his clothes back, but the cop was already making a retreat to his squad car, with Nick’s clothes held in a heap in front of him, like evidence. The cop asked Nick if he had a record, and Nick shook his head.

Bullshit. You wanna tell me now, get your clothes back, or you gonna make me look it up?

Look it up! Nick yelled. I don’t have a record.

We’ll see, the cop said, and slid into his car with Nick’s clothes.

Seated on the ice-cold trunk, Nick stared across the bay at the scattered lights that rose above the shoreline—like white holes punched into black paper. He could only hear the bay, leaping

Reviews for Long Island Noir

[lehack · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was my third noir collection, having previously read Brooklyn Noir and New Orleans Noir. Brooklyn Noir was my favorite. This collection takes us on a tour of Long Island, but not always to the places we expect. We may think of sunny beaches, long summer days and warm evenings, vineyards, and wonderful dinners in the Hamptons. This tour takes us to the darker side of the Island where people do things out of desperation, greed, lust or just being stupid. I love collections of short stories. This was my "pack in the handbag" book the past few weeks. I was able to finish whole stories in those spare moments. Being familiar with NY and surrounding areas, I plan to pick up copies of Manhattan Noir, Brooklyn Noir 2/3 and possibly New Jersey Noir.

[olgalijo · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

For being a "noir" book I found it strangely reassuring. Most of the stories have enough to do with day to day life that I found myself wanting to read more. A tip of the hat to the editor.

[lauriebrown54 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This collection of short stories- one volume in a series of dark tales set in various locations- illustrates the dark side of Long Island. Usually thought of as boring suburbia, the area proves to be anything but in these tales of people in bad situations. Poverty, alcoholism, drugs, prejudice, spousal abuse, rape, revenge, murder; these are no pretty fantasy stories but grim reminders of what goes on all the time, most of it under the radar. Editor (and contributor) Jones has done a good job selecting the stories; they represent quite an assortment of ways people’s lives can go out of control. Not all the characters are on a downward slide because of their own actions; many are in their dark situations simply by bad luck. The variety of situations keeps the book interesting- none of the 17 stories is like the others despite being on the same theme. If you like your fiction down to earth and raw, this books for you.

[erin1_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Halfway through the short stories of Long Island Noir, I found that I had skimmed through each one and hadn't connected with a single character. In fact, I found the characters banal and irritating and had to stop reading because I was getting annoyed. I've read noir and truly enjoyed it. As an avid reader of just about anything and everything, I wanted to like this book so badly, and had hoped to come away with some new authors to add to my list, but I just couldn't get through these stories.

[abealy_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Brooklyn-based Akashic Press has covered the world with their classic “noir” series of short story collections. From Baltimore Noir to Wall Street Noir and over fifty cities in between the series defines the meaning of the seamier, darker side of life — often with a twist of the raw and a dash of humor.With Long Island Noir, editor Kaylie Jones, has gathered together stories by writers with personal connections to Long Island: Jules Feiffer, Matthew McGevna, Nick Mamatas, Kaylie Jones, Qanta Ahmed, Charles Salzberg, Reed Farrel Coleman, Tim McLoughlin, Sarah Weinman, JZ Holden, Richie Narvaez, Sheila Kohler, Jane Ciabattari, Steven Wishnia, Kenneth Wishnia, Amani Scipio, and Tim Tomlinson.In her introduction, Kaylie Jones says: “The most diehard fans of fiction may find a few of these stories a little gris. Not everyone here is literally down and out...They are all characters driven by some twisted notion of the American Dream, which they feel they must achieve at any cost. This is real-life noir.”Some of the better stories are truly dark gems. Matthew McGevna’s “Gateway to the Stars” is a murky tale of disaffected brotherly love.In “ Home Invasion” Kaylie Jones creates a young protagonist who grows up quickly after being taught to handle a gun.The depressing sadness of the arranged marriage and abused wife is masterfully told by Qanta Ahmed in “Anjali’s America” All the stories in this collection bring insight and a dose of the darker side of Nassau and Suffolk counties, including an illustrated story about Southampton by author and illustrator, Jules Feiffer, called “Boob Noir.”Head out to a beach in The Hamptons and bring along Long Island Noir for a great afternoon’s reading on the dark side.

[jjnaaucoin · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Like others have said, this is a book of short stories. Some better than others, none of any great horror. This book is a book to read here and there not a novel that keeps you reading late into the night. I guess I expected something else, but some of these stories I enjoyed.If you like Noir and something to read here and there this is a great book for you.

[blaircai · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is an ordinary locality (Long Island) noir book. On the whole, I found the stories to be well-written, but I had a hard time with how many of the stories reeked with Gatsby-style entitlement. Some of the stories fascinated me, but most left me feeling annoyed -- more a function of my tastes than anything about the book itself. Great, light read... if you're into that sort of thing.

[jamesbanzer · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is very interesting reading for the summertime. Considering the fact that there are 17 contributing writers, you are going to find something you like. These contributors write with feeling, and are going to keep you turning the page. My favorite among the lot is Anjali’s America, by Quanta Ahmed, MD. It is written with such realism that it is easy to forget you are reading fiction. If you get the book for no other reason than to read this short story, you will have invested wisely.She tells of a young Anjali Osmaan, who is rushed to the emergency room with a complete uterine rupture. There is a frantic fight among the medical staff to save the woman’s life. She hovers very close to death, and almost miraculously pulls through. Like so many who come to the United States from a culture where women are treated as something less than full human beings, Anjali struggles to cope. The story ends well, with Anjali finally discovering her America. You have to read the story to find out how.Other stories in the book contain very imaginative conceptual ideas. The stories are set in various Long Island communities. The tales are all based on totally different concepts. As a usual reader of non-fiction, this was off the beaten path for me. I believe that truth is usually little easier to swallow. But every one of these stories reflects what could just as easily be truth in its own way. It’s a great compilation.

[willymammoth · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Another solid entery into Akashic's "[Insert Locale Here] Noir" series. As with any short story anthology, some are better than others. And it's not "Noir" in the classical sense, but all of them are decent if not earth shattering. Except for the hastily-drawn comic (oops, I meant to say "graphic short story") in the middle, it was an enjoyable read.

[samsattler · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Long Island Noir, by my count the fiftieth offering in the Akashic Noir Series, is a nice collection of seventeen short stories devoted to Long Island’s dark side. Noir fiction, by definition, focuses on the darkness hidden within every human being and what happens when that dark side is allowed to express itself. These stories, consequently, are generally about losers and their victims. These are not “feel good” stories with happy endings and, with an exception or two, there are no nice guys to be found here unless you consider a few of the victims to fit into that category – but, even of that bunch, only a few will qualify. You have to love this stuff.As editor Kaylie Jones puts it in the book’s introduction, “They are all characters driven by some twisted notion of the American Dream, which they feel they must achieve at any cost. This is real-life noir. These people are our neighbors.” Most would hope this to be a bit of an exaggeration, but if not our neighbors, people like these are probably nearer than most of us care to admit.Short story collections, if they include enough stories or writers, tend to be a bit uneven, and this one is no exception. Included in this one are both excellent stories and a couple of dry clunkers that read more as obvious, almost characterless, indictments of spousal abuse and racism. There is even a graphic short story (my first experience with one of those) called “Boob Noir” that turns out to be one of the darkest and most disturbing tales of the bunch.Several of the stories are particularly memorable and fun to read, including the book’s opener, a story by Matthew McGevna called “Gateway to the Stars” in which a young man is kept from rescuing his younger brother from a sexual predator by a local cop who refuses him entrance to a wealthy neighborhood to search for the boy. “Home Invasion,” written by Kaylie Jones, is the striking story of a 16-year-old girl who unexpectedly turns the table on a friend of her father’s who has been taking advantage of her. My favorite, though, is Reed Farrel Coleman’s “Mastermind,” a story about a petty criminal who has finally planned the perfect score, one that will net him enough to live well on for a long time, only to have it all go wrong in a way that would have made the great Alfred Hitchcock smile. Readers of Long Island Noir are likely to have their image of Long Island forever changed – especially those who have not seen it with their own eyes. As these stories remind us, not everyone on Long Island lives in the Hamptons. It’s dark out there; watch yourself.Rated at: 4.0

[glendalea_2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I had not heard of this series of books, and I am now looking forward to reading more! I was glad that one did not have to be familiar with Long Island in order to appreciate the stories (however, local knowledge may have helped in a couple of instances). Overall, the first half of the book seemed to have more depth and drama to the narratives, as the latter stories seemed to fizzle out at times. It was a great "quick read," with some interesting glimpses into the human psyche.

[melkor81205 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A book of short stories that take place in the numerous different settings of Long Island. The book was for the most part enjoyable, some of the stories were not as well written as others.The stories are all dark on some level, so if your looking for a light "beach read" you can skip this one.

[cameling_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a wonderful collection of short noir stories set in suburbs of Long Island, New York by different authors centered around family values, love, reaching for the American Dream, disappointments and personal tragedies. Each author has his and her own voice, lending a freshness to each story told.

[mclane_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The latest in Akashic Books "Noir" series, this is a collection of short stories set on Long Island. As the name implies, each story is about crime and/or some other dark theme. The quality of the stories vary, but all of them are pretty good. Each is set in a different Long Island town, and they do serve to point out that Long Island, like other areas of the country, is a mixture of rich and poor, different ethnic groups, and subject to all the pains and pangs of humanity. Recommended for those who like short fiction.

[ridgewaygirl · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Long Island Noir fully fills only the first half of its title; while all of the stories are set on Long Island, quite a few are not noir. Noir is a sort of off-shoot of those pulp fiction hardboiled tales featuring disgraced private eyes encountering the seamy side of life. It focuses on the dark underbelly, and while the characters often inhabit a hard-scrabble world, noir exists equally well in the corrupt actions and pastimes of the wealthy. Long Island Noir often failed in this, with both traditional mystery stories and one that featured neither crime nor struggle. A few needed a little more time, with the slap-dash feeling of an early draft. Still, I found a few of the stories leading me to want to read more by their authors, always a good outcome. Other stories delivered in spades, telling of plans gone awry and lives squandered.Among the stand-out stories was Anjali's America, in which a young Pakistani doctor encounters a woman whose fate she could have shared, had she not rejected an arranged marriage and completed her education, Gateway to the Stars, where a young man is prevented from finding his younger, drug-addicted brother by an unpleasant cop, and Blood Drive, in which a recently laid-off construction worker finds a new career that is both illegal and morally defensible. The protagonist of this story delivers a monolog that reminded me that appearances can be deceiving.The disappointments were not terrible, but they didn't deliver. In Terror nothing bad happened. Instead, tragedy visited a browner-skinned, poorer acquaintance of the highly educated, white woman who could afford a summer house in the Hamptons. I found this story both offensive and well written. Past President was a traditional mystery story that could have featured Kinsey Millhone or Rina Lazarus. It was enjoyable and well-crafted, but absolutely not noir. And Semiconscious was certainly dark enough, but it was too angry to be well-written. I was reminded of John Steinbeck throwing away a rough draft and then writing The Grapes of Wrath. This was an early draft of what could eventually become something good.

[wordsampersand · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I love the idea of short story collections that are geographically confined, and I love hardboiled fiction. I don't know why I was so apprehensive about approaching any of these Akashic-published collections that combined both. Aside from a few misses, I think the collection works great. All of the stories in the collection are set in various communities on Long Island, and most are quite good. All of the stories toy with the pursuit of the "American Dream," and — in great hardboiled fashion — the characters often go for a bigger slice of pie than they realize they can manage. Some of the best stories cover territory familiar to fans of hardboiled fiction or film noir, yes, but some are fairly unconventional and really snap into place. I also appreciate how some of the better stories balance attention to detail in the various locales, and enough opaqueness to not alienate folks not overly familiar with Long Island.

[laffrey_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

When I began reading the introduction to Long Island Noir, edited by Kaylie Jones, I suddenly remembered that I’m not a fan of short stories nor do I love the dark world of the noir mystery. So why read it? Well, having spent the past 15 years living (near), working and shopping on “the island”, I was curious to see how the various authors would portray it. So, I took a deep breath and dove in. I’m so glad I did.Though all of the stories are dark, none seemed overwhelmingly so, thanks to the length of the stories. The authors do a great job of catching the flavor of the setting and creating real characters out of the LI “characters” who appear in many other, longer books (and movies, and songs, even). Qanta Ahmed’s Anjali’s America, the story of two Pakistani immigrants, one a doctor and one an abused wife in her care, and Reed Farrell Coleman’s Mastermind, about a low-level muscle who’s stumbled on the perfect crime, stand out in this sense. Both also end in the kind of twist that shocks at first, then, on second, seemed inevitable. Several of the stories contained a dark humor that I found quite appealing: the above mentioned Mastermind, Charles Salzberg’s A Starr Burns Bright, about a man delivering a package that might unlock a past murder, and Tim Tomlinson’s Snow Job about two men who have an odd way of keeping busy in retirement. I also really enjoyed Jane Ciabattari’s Contents of House and Jules Feiffer’s creepy cartoon, Boob Noir.These stories are a great introduction to some wonderful new (to me) authors and this book is definitely going in the Christmas stockings of some of friends and family who are current (and former) Islanders. My husband insists that I point out that the cover photo, though technically ON Long Island, is actually taken in Long Island City, Queens, which is part of NYC, not part of Nassau or Suffolk County.

[dandelionroots · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An anthology of noir short stories based in Long Island centered around the theme of the American dream (or better, its shadow). Some were flat, some were mildly entertaining, a few made me smile. The latter were: Thy Shiny Car in the Night, Home Invasion, Contents of House, Semiconscious, Blood Drive, & Snow Job. None will stick with me and I won't be reading any more of this series.

[shabacus · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I have lived on Long Island for the last five years, and during that time, I have gotten to know my adopted home pretty well. So when I had the chance to read this book, I was very excited. However, "Long Island" is only half of the title, and when I started to read, I realized that however much I knew about the island, I knew nothing about Noir.And so, I approached this book familiar with the setting, but unfamiliar with the styles and conventions of noir literature. And although I wouldn't say that I've been fully won over to the genre, the book was a thoroughly entertaining read.Only rarely do the stories name-drop, a common failing of regional short story collections. Instead, the setting is integral to the stories. As for the stories themselves, the quality is variable but generally positive. Having just finished the collection, there are only a handful that stand out as particularly good or particularly bad. Here, I think my unfamiliarity with the genre was a hindrance. Where a story left me unsatisfied, as if the really important questions had been left unanswered, I am more likely to attribute the fault to my own expectations rather than a problem with the stories themselves.In short, if you're a Long Islander, you will probably find much in this book to interest you. I leave it to fans of noir to determine how it ranks in that arena. Regardless, I am glad to have read it.

[charlottem_63 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

These books are great if you like noir and anthologies. I think they are tops.

[cathryngrant-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A few stories made this a 4-star, a few made it 3-star, and some, 2-star (it was okay). I went with four stars because of these two: Anali's America, by Qanta Ahmed and Home Invasion by Kaylie Jones.

[sgtbigg_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Long Island Noir features seventeen crime stories featuring murder, mayhem, and assorted bad things written by local authors. As the title indicates all of the stories take place on Long Island, although many of them could have taken place anywhere. As is normal in collections such as this, some stories are good and some not so good. Several of the stories seemed as if they were the setup for something longer, unfortunately this makes them appear incomplete. Long Island Noir is the most recent in Akashic’s series that began in 2004 with Brooklyn Noir.