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240 pages, Paperback
Published September 13, 2016
Barkers outside outside strip joints try to lure spenders in, a guy in the hand grenade costume dances on his corner, and everywhere is the smell of Lucky Dogs and grease.
If the Quarter is a painted whore, the Garden District is her much snootier and pretentious sister, narrowing her eyes disapprovingly at the immorality down the river. The people who live in those old mansions on their gorgeous lawns behind their fences will always smirk in the general direction of the Quarter, gently sipping tea from heirloom bone china cups held in white-gloved hands…although sometimes the “tea” is actually bourbon.