Michael Stone has the Hardboiled voice down. In Low End of Nowhere, first of his series starring a Denver bounty hunter who goes by the name of Streeter, he gives us gems like this:

His face had the warmth of age, like an old wooden desktop.

There was a strange menace to his entire being, like barbed wire covered with pale skin.

He had the scarred complexion of a public golf fairway but wore an impeccable herringbone suit.

When Streeter busts a beautiful female insurance scammer, frustrating her bogus injury claim, the last thing he expects is for her to turn around and hire him. But Story Moffat (that’s her name) was impressed with his efficient work and apparent integrity. She is the sole heir of her boyfriend, a murdered drug dealer. She knows he had money squirrelled away somewhere, but she can’t locate it. She wants Streeter to find it for her, for a generous fee. The job appears to be legal, and the woman’s interesting, so Streeter takes the job. This will put him in competition with a sleazy lawyer and his two semi-human thugs, as well as a corrupt cop. People will get killed in unpleasant ways.

I loved the prose in Low End of Nowhere. This is extremely good gumshoe writing, harkening back to Chandler and Hammett. My reservations come from… what shall I call it? The ambience. It’s a sad story about a group of people who aren’t very sympathetic (except for our hero himself and a couple friends). Although I enjoyed reading the book, I’m not eager to go down these mean streets again.

You might like it better than I do. Cautions for language and mature themes.