Labyrinth, you have a gift for making a setting feel alive before the characters ever speak. I could hear the orchestra, smell the cigarette smoke, and see every crystal chandelier. But as beautiful as the noir atmosphere was, Mama Ethel quietly stole the story for me. “Then you are not going home.” Four simple words, and suddenly this became a story about finding family, safety, and belonging instead of simply escaping the past. The ending, where Ilona finally sings in Hungarian because she belongs to herself, felt like the perfect closing note. Beautiful work. 👏🏻
Oo, that has been a secret dream of mine since forever. Minus the mob connexions.
A dark and dingy basement jazz club. A smouldering chanteuse, a blistering hot quintet, female staff in tuxedos, me at my usual place at the end of the bar. Maybe it's just a memory of a life already lived. Or one still to come. Meanwhile I listen to Coltrane, drink the odd Martini, and spend way too much time cooking. Come to think of it, having a Tony around could be handy.
Bravissimo!! I would stand and applaud, if this were a reading in some warm, enchanted evening space; the perfection of the word choices, the superb descriptors magically surrounding us with the ambiance of the night club, the busy yet intimate clatter and chatter of the boarding house, the characters so carefully introduced that, even without extensive back stories, we know them. We know their types, their mannerisms, their voices, because these are the types of people common to every age and every location- we have all encountered them, which makes this story ring with such authenticity. I will resist the urge to ramble on and on, but will close by saying, you have given us such a little jewel of noire excellence that would have taken some authors dozens of pages to even begin; and you wrapped up the happy conclusion with a tender white ribbon bow. Thank you.
This reads like classic Hollywood noir with the emotional depth of historical fiction. Every setting feels alive, from the smoke-filled Chez Paree to Mama Ethel’s warm kitchen filled with paprika, bread, and languages from across Europe.
Mama Ethel quietly became my favorite character. Her simple response, “Then you are not going home,” carries extraordinary emotional weight. And Tony’s understated protection felt perfectly true to his character without overwhelming Ingrid’s own agency.
By the time she sings in Hungarian at the end, it isn’t just another performance. It becomes a declaration that she finally belongs to herself. That’s a beautiful and deeply earned ending. Bravo.
Thank you so much! I did a fair amount of research for this. Also my great grandmother was a sturdy Hungarian woman named Ethel who ran a boarding house in Chicago in the '20s-'30s. 😅 So Mama Ethel is low-key real, if embellished. And Fritz (Nándor) was my great grandpa. 😂❤️
The mob isn't great, but they have a code (most of the time) where they take care of their own. That's how they became a thing, if I remember right - they protected when the police didn't.
This was beautifully crafted. I was transported to the roaring 20’s and entranced by your narrative. I could so imagine this playing on stage or on the screen in black and white, with a liquid voiced narrator setting the scene. Brava!
Labyrinth, you have a gift for making a setting feel alive before the characters ever speak. I could hear the orchestra, smell the cigarette smoke, and see every crystal chandelier. But as beautiful as the noir atmosphere was, Mama Ethel quietly stole the story for me. “Then you are not going home.” Four simple words, and suddenly this became a story about finding family, safety, and belonging instead of simply escaping the past. The ending, where Ilona finally sings in Hungarian because she belongs to herself, felt like the perfect closing note. Beautiful work. 👏🏻
Thank you so much, that means the world. ❤️🤗
So totally agree. Here's another author that I think should be rich and famous! Maybe she is and we just don't know? So fun!
Awww, thank you Ginny. Sadly I am neither rich nor famous. 😂😭
I wish I knew how to remedy that, but then I’d probably lose some of my fave writers so…. SIGH!
Hehe, it's okay. Honestly the biggest reward for me is that people enjoy and resonate with my stories. That's why I keep them all free. 🥰
Oo, that has been a secret dream of mine since forever. Minus the mob connexions.
A dark and dingy basement jazz club. A smouldering chanteuse, a blistering hot quintet, female staff in tuxedos, me at my usual place at the end of the bar. Maybe it's just a memory of a life already lived. Or one still to come. Meanwhile I listen to Coltrane, drink the odd Martini, and spend way too much time cooking. Come to think of it, having a Tony around could be handy.
Sounds like you'd fit right in!!
Bravissimo!! I would stand and applaud, if this were a reading in some warm, enchanted evening space; the perfection of the word choices, the superb descriptors magically surrounding us with the ambiance of the night club, the busy yet intimate clatter and chatter of the boarding house, the characters so carefully introduced that, even without extensive back stories, we know them. We know their types, their mannerisms, their voices, because these are the types of people common to every age and every location- we have all encountered them, which makes this story ring with such authenticity. I will resist the urge to ramble on and on, but will close by saying, you have given us such a little jewel of noire excellence that would have taken some authors dozens of pages to even begin; and you wrapped up the happy conclusion with a tender white ribbon bow. Thank you.
Thank you so much. What an incredible compliment. It means so much to me. ❤️
This reads like classic Hollywood noir with the emotional depth of historical fiction. Every setting feels alive, from the smoke-filled Chez Paree to Mama Ethel’s warm kitchen filled with paprika, bread, and languages from across Europe.
Mama Ethel quietly became my favorite character. Her simple response, “Then you are not going home,” carries extraordinary emotional weight. And Tony’s understated protection felt perfectly true to his character without overwhelming Ingrid’s own agency.
By the time she sings in Hungarian at the end, it isn’t just another performance. It becomes a declaration that she finally belongs to herself. That’s a beautiful and deeply earned ending. Bravo.
Thank you so much! I did a fair amount of research for this. Also my great grandmother was a sturdy Hungarian woman named Ethel who ran a boarding house in Chicago in the '20s-'30s. 😅 So Mama Ethel is low-key real, if embellished. And Fritz (Nándor) was my great grandpa. 😂❤️
I loved every single word.
☺️❤️
Love Ingrid! And Mama Ethel; everyone needs a Mama Ethel.
Mama Ethel is the best.
The mob isn't great, but they have a code (most of the time) where they take care of their own. That's how they became a thing, if I remember right - they protected when the police didn't.
Captured brilliantly.
Thank you so much. ❤️
Beautifully written
Thank you!!
A great read to start off with coming back from vacation. And noir is always exciting to get into
Yay! Thank you!!
What a great story!
Thank you!
This was beautifully crafted. I was transported to the roaring 20’s and entranced by your narrative. I could so imagine this playing on stage or on the screen in black and white, with a liquid voiced narrator setting the scene. Brava!
No reason to believe this tale could not be true. It rings golden. 100% silver. 1000% copper/whatever metal you care to name.