Nice song by RT. What a beauty he was as a youngster.
Were Triumph bikes disdained by biker boy thug types? That's the only bike other than Harley (which is in my awareness mainly because Brigitte Bardot sang a very silly song about her AAARRRLEY DAHHHVeeed-sohhhnnn, wearing a very silly but sexy costume) which I know about. Thanks to Jennifer Paterson on TWO FAT LADIES.
Homicidal 'middies' versus the Laurel Canyon chapter. Skulls versus the remnants of the Last Heroes (with Wolf's blessing, Gwyn and his Wolves split home to Nant Gwrytheyan to resolve local difficulties). While nowhere near as disgusting as his The Witches series - not much is - there's nothing reticent about Guardian Angels closing chapter. When Freddie Dolan, stoned out of his mind, strips naked and yells "I want you all. Now. Come and take me. Please!" they don't need asking twice. The superstar is literally cut into tiny pieces. Bookie blasts away at the Last Heroes, the Californians, knives and pistols drawn, wade into Skulls, housewives and little girls alike. Blood and guts and corpses and vomit everywhere. If you prefer your cheap thrills vicarious, Guardian Angels won't disappoint!
Another Sclater Street find on Sunday just gone. You go years without spotting a Hells A. novel, and suddenly there's two sat side by side in the £1 tray.
Pat Stadly - Black Leather Barbarians (NEL, Nov 1973: originally NAL, Dec 1960)
Blurb Here come The Night Hawks. They're prowling California on big black motorcycles searching for trouble. They're looking for a fight. Looking for a chick to rape. Looking for a cop to mug. When motorcycle engines roar, it means trouble for someone. Trouble in the shape of Rand Hollister and his Black Leather Barbarians. With The Night Hawks Pat Stadley has created a group of Wild Ones as unforgettable — and as deadly — as Hell's Angels.
From the first, I set myself against "literature"; the story was the thing, and no amount of style could persuade me to select a story that lacked genuine, unadulterated horror. For those who wanted something high-brow there was plenty.