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Booked
(and Printed) December
2024 December is my second favorite month of the year. Its
festive feel and the long dark nights—which are wonderful for reading and
watching movies with the family—make winter’s arrival seem all right. At
least until January’s subzero temps and icy snow comes calling, which is a
different story altogether. As for reading, this December was a particularly
good month. The number of books I read was far from spectacular—seven books;
six novels and a story collection—but there wasn’t a dud in the bunch. Well,
except the solitary title I put aside before the final page had been tallied,
but I’ll talk about that one later. The month started just
right with John Keyse-Walker’s marvelous puzzler, SUN, SAND, MURDER (2016).
Teddy Creque is busy. He is the Royal Virgin Islands Police Special Constable,
the customs officer, and he works graveyard at the powerplant on the tiny Caribbean
Island of Anegada. He gets even busier—so busy he barely has time for his
wife and two kids—when a torrid affair erupts with an American helicopter
pilot, Cat Wells. Which is exactly when the local ganja hippy, an Englishman
they call “De White Rasta” because of his faux pigeon accent, finds Paul
Kelliher, a herpetologist studying Anegada rock iguanas, violently murdered
on an isolated stretch of beach. Special Constables aren’t
allowed to investigate crimes and so Teddy’s boss assigns him the humble task
of notifying Kelliher’s next of kin. An errand that turns into its own
investigation since Kelliher wasn’t actually a scientist or named Kelliher.
And when Teddy realizes the “real” police aren’t going to investigate, he does
it himself. Sun, Sand, Murder,
which is the first of four Teddy Creque mysteries, is a delightful whodunit (although
it isn’t exactly fair-play) with a smattering of eccentric characters—including
Teddy himself—a brilliant setting, and just enough action to keep the pages
turning. It is perfect for winter reading, with its hot and sandy beaches and
warm clear ocean waters. Even better, Sun, Sand, Murder was my
favorite book I read all month. Joyce Carol Oates’s FLINT KILL CREEK (2024),
which is the only story collection I read in December, is littered with twelve
brilliant tales about loneliness, envy, and identity. It is exactly what one
expects from a writer of Oates’s stature because she really is a maestro. Read
my full review here. AGAINST
THE GRAIN, Peter Lovesey’s 22nd Peter
Diamond mystery, is bittersweet because it is Lovesey’s last novel. Diamond revels
in the challenge to solve an English Village mystery because he wants to test
himself against the likes of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple. It is a fair-play
whodunit with humor, excellent clue placement, and a brilliant solution. Read
my full review here. My consumption of
Westerns has diminished over the years, but every so often I get a hankering for
an old-fashioned shootout. Which is what drew me to Lewis B. Patten’s THE TIRED GUN (1973).
And it really delivered, too. Patten tinkers with his “man alone” plot—sort of
a High Noon drama where the hero is forced to face a gang of killers unaided—just
enough to keep the reader guessing at the outcome. The action is swift and
violent and… well, read my full review here (and then read the book). Speaking of swift, J. D.
Rhoades’s BREAKING COVER
(2008),
is a bullet of a thriller with outlaw bikers, undercover F.B.I. agents,
betrayal, and oh so much violence! It is the kind of book you pick up in the
evening and can’t stop reading until the final page has been turned. Read my
full review here. I had the distinct
pleasure of reading PRO BONO (2025), Thomas Perry’s latest thriller, ahead
of its publication—which is scheduled for January 14—and so my review is
still a dirty dark secret that won’t be revealed until the second week of the
new year. It’s a book I enjoyed, but one that had a unique double plot; one
acted as a catalyst for the other but they never came together. Come back in
a few weeks for more… If you’ve been paying
attention to the blog, you know I’ve been on a David Housewright kick. Wow,
do I like his Rushmore McKenzie books and this month’s candy was the 13th
entry, STEALING THE COUNTESS
(2016). McKenzie does favors for friends and he is lukewarm when he’s approached
to act as a middleman to “purchase” a Stradivarius, known as the Countess Borromeo
and valued at $4 million, from the thieves that stole it from a famous violinist,
Paul Duclos, after playing in a touristy Wisconsin town. McKenzie is tentative
about engaging because it’s a felony to receive stolen property, but (of
course) he decides to play the game anyway. With some fisticuffs, a couple
gunfights, a trip to Philadelphia, and a bunch of sleuthing, McKenize
recovers the violin and figures out whodunit. Stealing the Countess is
another fine entry in the series—McKenzie is his usual smart-alecky, but
likable self. The cast of suspects is large and there is danger lurking
everywhere. While the Wisconsin setting is fun, I did miss the vibrancy of
Housewright’s Twin Cities, but the smooth style and the whip fast pacing overrode
any literary nostalgia I may have felt for St. Paul. |
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As for short stories—December was less than prolific.
The solitary tale I booked as read (outside a collection or an anthology) was
Ray Bradbury’s jazzy and inventive “THE
WONDERFUL DEATH OF DUDLEY STONE” (1954).
Dudley Stone was destined to be better than Faulkner, Steinbeck, and Hemingway,
but he disappeared twenty-five years ago, as Bradbury calls it, “to live in a
town we call Obscurity by the sea best named The Past.” Douglas, perhaps
Stone’s most ardent fan, tracks down the great man with an eye at discovering
why he quit writing. And what he finds is… “The Wonderful Death of
Dudley Stone” is Bradbury at his best. There is surprise, wonder, and it
tumbles off the page with the beat and style of great jazz music. While it
originally appeared in Charm magazine, I read it in the Jan. 1984
issue of Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. Oh, and that book I mentioned
all the way in the first paragraph. The one I chose not to finish? It is Peter
Steiner’s spy thriller, L’ASSASSIN
(2008). It is advertised as a literary thriller, which I often like, but when
I hit page 50 and it hadn’t sparked I put it away. But, Publishers Weekly gave
it a starred review, so who am I to judge? Fin— Now on to next month… |
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