Excerpt from The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"I used to sell cosmetics." Too close again. "I know a lot about women's skin."

Leaning back, I increased the distance between us. As we made a turn, he jerked hard so that I staggered against him. I suspected he'd done it on purpose, but his hand made an involuntary movement towards his pocket, as though he was worried something might fall out.

"Do you know," he said, smiling, "that there are ways to keep a woman young and beautiful forever? With needles."

"Needles?" I asked, curious despite thinking this was one of the worst pickup lines I'd heard.

"In western Java, there are women who stick very fine gold needles into their faces. All the way in, till they can't be seen. It's witchcraft to prevent aging. I met a beautiful widow who'd buried five husbands, said to have twenty needles in her face. But she told me that you must remove them after death."

"Why?"

"The body must be made whole again when you die. Anything added must be removed, and anything missing replaced—otherwise your soul won't rest in peace." Enjoying my surprise, he went on to describe the rest of his trip in detail. Some people were talkers while others danced in sweaty-palmed silence. On the whole, I preferred the talkers because they were absorbed in their own world and didn't pry into mine.

If my family discovered I was working here part-time, it would be a disaster. I shuddered to think of my stepfather's rage, my mother's tears, as she'd be bound to confess her mahjong debts to him. Then there was Shin, my stepbrother. Born on the same day as me, people used to ask if we were twins. He'd always been my ally, at least until recently. But Shin was gone now, having won a place to study medicine at the King Edward VII Medical College in Singapore, where native talent was being trained to combat the lack of doctors in Malaya. I'd been proud, because it was Shin and he'd always been clever, yet deeply envious because between the two of us, I'd scored higher marks at school. But there was no use thinking about what-ifs. Shin never answered my letters anymore.

The salesman was still talking. "Do you believe in luck?"

"What's there to believe?" I tried not to grimace as he trod heavily on my foot.

"You should, because I'm going to be very lucky." Grinning, he took yet another turn too sharply. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the Mama glaring at us. We were causing a scene on the dance floor, staggering around like this, and it was all very bad for business.

Gritting my teeth, I scrabbled for balance as the salesman unleashed a dangerously low dip. Undignified, we teetered. Arms flailing, grabbing at clothes. His hand cupped my buttocks as he peered down my dress. I elbowed him, my other hand snagging in his pocket. Something small and light rolled into my palm as I snatched it away. It felt like a slim smooth cylinder. I hesitated, panting. I should put it back; if he saw that I'd taken something, he might accuse me of being a pickpocket. Some men liked to make trouble like that; it gave them a hold over a girl.

The salesman smiled shamelessly. "What's your name?"

Flustered, I gave him my real name, Ji Lin, instead of Louise. Worse and worse. At that instant, the music ended, and the salesman abruptly released me. His eyes were fixed beyond my shoulder as though he'd seen someone he recognized, and with a hurried start, he was gone.

As if to make up for the tango, the band launched into "Yes Sir, That's My Baby!" Couples rushed the dance floor as I walked back to my seat. The object in my hand was burning like a brand. Surely he'd come back; he still had a roll of dance tickets. If I waited, I could return what I'd taken. Pretend he'd dropped it on the floor.

The smell of rain blew in through the open windows. Unnerved, I lifted the ribbon separating the dancers' seats from the floor and sat down, smoothing my skirt.

I opened my hand. As I'd guessed from the feel of it, it was a thin-walled cylinder made of glass. A specimen bottle, barely two inches long with a metal screw top. Something light rattled inside. I stifled a cry.

Excerpted from The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo. Copyright © 2019 by Yangsze Choo. Excerpted by permission of Flatiron Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.