I was truly and thoroughly pleased with this book. Murder, prostitution, New Orleans, bookshops, college applications, motorcyclists, the mob; Out of the Easy has everything. This is historical fiction done right, the voice, tone, setting, and style all balancing perfectly and perfectly complimentary to each other. So stylish. Stylin'. Did I mention the style? 
 Not to put style over substance, but historical fiction, especially one set in this sort of "Noir" time period, needs to commit to the times. Stylistically. I'll stop saying that word now. There is a glitz to the language, the slang, and the...erm... panache (ten points for not saying "Style" again. Oh, shit there it is again. Fuck.) of the times is there. The 50's is a great time to walk around in, a balance of flouncy moral goodness and a sleeker darkness, and that was certainly present here. There's edge and softness, perfectly juxtaposed. 
 The plot is winding, complicated, and loaded. It pulls you along, trying to keep up, but is fully entertaining enough to hold your attention. 
 All the characters in this book have a purpose and weight, and loads of personality. I loved everyone. I never love everyone. But I loved everyone. Jo is our lovely protagonist, stuck but not ruled by her circumstances, practical, smart, passionate, and insecure about her background, but not ashamed of herself. And she could give fuck all about boys. It's weird that my requirements to adore a character either mean loving casual sex with lots of boys or absolutely LOATHING them, and Jo isn't either of those things, but you get the point. She's fun. She hops on boys laps, can dish and take whatever chemistry she's offered, but has that level of cluelessness that keeps her blissfully un-knocked-up the entire book. If that girl knew what a catch she was she's be intolerable. So we like Jo! She don't know she's beautiful! Oh-oh-oh! 
 Too many side characters to list, but Willie, shit, I don't care if she runs a brothel, I want to Willie when I grow up. She is the light of my goddamn life. The love interest is a balance of James Dean and...someone way nicer and more compassionate than James Dean. He's actually quite a sideline character, and I would have liked to see more of their relationship, but at least she really doesn't need him. I like that. Boys are lame. Sometimes. Nearly always. 
 My only complaint at the the moment is for a novel set in New Orleans, it really doesn't have much New Orleans. We hear about the other characters yukking it up in Jazz clubs or at parties, but our narrator never really walks around in the setting and we don't see enough of the wildness. I like wildness and debauchery. That's why a gravitate towards books like this. Despite the murder and prostitution, this book didn't have that devil-may-care wickedness that I absolutely adore. It views the male gaze of sexuality in a very dark light, which I can appreciate, and the main character has some major qualms with sex, but it's never really...fixed. She just escapes them, the views don't change. Would have liked a little more, because she goes from running out from almost selling her virginity to flirting with her love interest, despite being very bristly about the topic of sex before any of this shit went down. 
 I've been searching a long time for a YA American Historical Fiction to replace What I saw and How I Lied in my heart, and this book is truly the closest match.