Her home shop stood like a bright dwarf among dead giants and burned rubble at the western end of the old strip. The old ones, Harvey's and Caesar's and Harrah's, had been built for a bigger tourist trade. They'd been built for a massive power grid, too. Those still standing were dark, left to crumble, the casinos closed. She wished she could either get them up and running again or just tear the damned things down like they'd tried to do in Vegas before they ran out of workers. People came to Tahoe for a good time; relics of the crowded past were too depressing. Blackjack was wide and long and three stories high, bleeding light from every door and window, noise from every chink and crack. This had been a good season. Lots of people tossing their coins and bills into the slots, braving the tables, losing their money with the self-satisfaction of high rollers. And Judith always made sure there were plenty of winners, that Blackjack had the payoff rep, the word-of-mouth whisper. Judith was wise and she was clever and that was why the Coleman's owned Blackjack and pieces of the relics and of a couple much smaller independent casinos on the strip near Stateline. They had only one real Scorsi's Luck, opened thirty years before in a motel down past the old California line. She felt acid burn the back of her throat, felt her mouth twist in disgust. Scorsi. Back to work.
I admit I'm partial towards this author, but I consider "Blackjack" to be a unique take on post-apoc fiction. I'll avoid spoilers and a synopsis, but rest assured, this is definitely not sci-fi trope.
The novel follows Rica Marin, a mercenary/enforcer for the governor of one of the stronger territories in a future Balkanized America. Investigating rumors of corruption and power brokering by a prominent family in Tahoe, Rica works undercover as a nightclub singer in the shabby remains of a casino and gets entangled in a web of violence, lies, and treachery. Might sound like an off-the-shelf plot line, but "Blackjack" features solid writing and credible characters, and deftly manages to be gritty without being bleak, strong without being heavy-handed, and realistic without resorting to sentiment. Highly recommended.