Thanks to the classic Dolly Parton film The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and ZZ Top's ode "La Grange," many people think they know the story of the infamous Chicken Ranch. The reality is more complex, lying somewhere between heartbreaking and absurd. For more than a century, dirt farmers and big-cigar politicians alike rubbed shoulders at the Chicken Ranch, operated openly under the sheriff's watchful eye. Madam Edna Milton and her girls ran a tight, discreet ship that the God-fearing people of La Grange tolerated if not outright embraced. That is, until a secret conspiracy enlisted an opportunistic reporter to bring it all crashing down on primetime television. Through exclusive interviews with Milton, former government officials and reporters, Jayme Lynn Blaschke delivers a fascinating, revelatory view of the Ranch that illuminates the truth and lies that surround this iconic brothel.

The evening of November 17, 1978, should have been like any other for the four young crewmembers closing the Burger Chef at 5725 Crawfordsville Road in Speedway, Indiana. After serving customers and locking the doors for the night, the kids began their regular cleanup to ready the restaurant for the following day. But then something went horribly wrong. Just before midnight, someone muscled into the place, robbed the store of $581 and kidnapped the four employees. Over the next two days, investigators searched in vain for the missing crewmembers before their bodies were discovered more than twenty miles away. The killer or killers were never caught. Join Julie Young on an exploration of one of the most baffling cold cases in Indiana history.

Within thirty years of the Great Chicago Fire, the revitalized city was boasting some of America's grandest department stores. The retail corridor on State Street was a crowded canyon of innovation and inventory where you could buy anything from a paper clip to an airplane. Revisit a time when a trip downtown meant dressing up for lunch at Marshall Field's Walnut Room, strolling the aisles of Sears for Craftsman tools or redeeming S&H Green Stamps at Wieboldt's. Whether your family favored The Fair, Carson Pirie Scott, Montgomery Ward or Goldblatt's, you were guaranteed stunning architectural design, attentive customer service and eye-popping holiday window displays. Lavishly illustrated with photographs, advertisements, catalogue images and postcards, Leslie Goddard's narrative brings to life the Windy City's fabulous retail past.

Beginning in the early 1990s, Pittsburgh's South Side neighborhood began to transform from the post-industrial morass it had been suffering for the last few decades. Artists began to rent empty apartments, what were once shot-and-a-beer bars became hip dive bars and entrepreneurs found inexpensive real estate to follow their visions. It was in this landscape that the Beehive Coffeehouse began to attract a new 90s alternative crowd.

East Carson Street was soon home to not just coffeehouses but Slacker, Dee's Cafe, Culture Shop, Club Laga and the Lava Lounge. Across a bridge, in the university community of Oakland, The Upstage, Electric Banana and another Beehive catered to the new youth culture. Cappuccinos, thrift shop culture, grunge music, local alternative bands, artists, writers and creative denizens of all stripes would soon enter the city's collective conscious. The South Side Beehive though was where the night often began, and weekends ended.

What really happened on the circus train in 1918? Read the story of this tragedy for the entertainment industry of the time.

In the cool, pre-dawn hours on a June night in 1918, a train engineer closed his cab window as he chugged toward Hammond, Indiana. He drifted to sleep, and his train bore down on the idle Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus Train. Soon after, the sleeping engineer's locomotive plowed into the circus train. In the subsequent wreckage and blaze, more than two hundred circus performers were injured and eighty-six were killed, most of whom were interred in a mass grave in the Showmen's Rest section of Chicago's Woodlawn Cemetery. Join local historian Richard Lytle as he recounts, in the fullest retelling to date, the details of this tragedy and its role in the overall evolution and demise of a unique entertainment industry.

On November 28, 1942, fire roared through Boston's famed Cocoanut Grove nightclub during what was supposed to be a high-spirited Saturday night. By midnight, more than five hundred people were dead, dying or maimed for life. Local author Stephanie Schorow probes the club's history, the circumstances leading to the fire and the tragedy's lingering impact. The inferno reached deep into the city's social structure--its politics, medical care and legal system--and touched nearly everyone in the Boston area, even those who had never set foot in the club. In this newly updated and revised edition, Schorow has added new photographs, interviews and insights into the worst nightclub fire in American history.