Review: "Death of an Ex" by Delia Pitts

Death of an Ex by Delia Pitts Minotaur Books, 2025     Death of an Ex, which is Delia Pitts’s second Vandy Myrick mystery, is a thoughtful, deliberately paced private eye novel with a rich New Jersey setting and a heaping of emotional healing. A former Rutgers University cop, the middle-aged Vandy moved back to her small hometown of Queenstown and took a job as a lawyer’s “pet private investigator.” Her boss, Elissa Adesanya, is also Vandy’s best friend and the work tends to be low market rackets like divorce, insurance fraud, and process serving. Vandy is thrown into the deep end of the investigative pool after attending a glitzy event at the high-end Rome School—a private boarding school in Queenstown—where her young friend, Ingrid Ramirez, is receiving an award. Vandy’s ex-husband, Philip Bolden, which is a great surname for any character, is at the reception and even after twenty years he still makes Vandy’s pulse rise and her knees weak. A few days later Vandy takes Philip to her bed and for a moment she doesn’t mind being the other woman. That changes when Philip is gunned down a few blocks from Vandy’s apartment and Vandy is left to figure out who did it and why. All while traversing the mine field of Philip’s personal life—he was married with a teenage son and his wandering libido caused nothing but trouble. While also hoping to keep her and Philip’s indiscretion a secret. Death of an Ex, while rightfully a private eye tale, has the atmosphere of an amateur sleuth in a particularly well-done cozy. Vandy’s investigative style is circular and primarily based on emotion rather than the linear style most often used in detective tales. She bumps around the primary suspects, as sneakily as an English Village sleuth, looking for motive and opportunity. A wobbly tactic because of its use of repetition—a repetition of Vandy’s emotions and a repetition of questioning the same suspects over and over—to deepen the mystery, but one that ultimately works since it reveals the illogic and tragedy of murder. But the true charm of Death of an Ex is Vandy’s own struggle with the death of her only child and Pitts’s vivid rendering of a predominately Black New Jersey town.

Check out Death of an Ex on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the hardcover.

 

Review: "The Blue Horse" by Bruce Borgos

The Blue Horse by Bruce Borgos Minotaur Books, 2025   Bruce Borgos’s third Sheriff Porter Beck procedural, The Blue Horse, opens with a pop and a wow—a BLM (Bureau of Land Management) wild horse gather, also known as a roundup, is interrupted when a helicopter crashes while pushing a herd through a narrow canyon in Beck’s Lincoln County, Nevada—but ends with a shrug and a sigh. Beck, who was watching the gather from the back of his own horse, locks down the crash site almost immediately. And in no time at all Beck and his deputy, Tuffy Scruggs, determine it was no accident. The pilot was shot by a sniper and they even find a spent shell casing atop a blue plastic toy horse. The primary suspect is Etta Clay, the leader of a wild horse advocacy group called CANTER. The local Nevada ranchers, and the BLM’s leadership, think CANTER is fanatical since it has compared the removal of wild horses from Nevada’s rangeland to genocide. But Beck isn’t so sure of Etta’s involvement in the killing or that CANTER is wrong about the way the horses are managed on public lands. Then Lincoln County is shocked by another brutal murder and while the two killings are different in style, Beck figures they must be related. The Blue Horse has a complex plot with angles and nuance—the Montreal mafia plays into it, as do ranchers, modern mining, Beck, who suffers from night blindness due to a congenital disease called retinitis pigmentosa, and, since the action takes place in September 2020, so dies Covid. Not to mention, Beck’s sister goes missing in a national park. While the complexity adds drama, it lessens the impact of the action and makes the climactic clash a little ho-hum. The villains are nasty, but (especially in the last third of the narrative) are cartoonish and have all the subtlety and competence of clowns. With that in mind, Beck is solidly drawn and likable, the setting is vivid, and the didactic discussion about wild horses is interesting as heck. If you like Craig Johnson’s Longmire, you’ll enjoy The Blue Horse, but all the while wish it had that same richness as Borgos’s previous novels.

Check out The Blue Horse on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the hardcover.

 

Review: "The Frozen People" by Elly Griffiths

 

The Frozen People by Elly Griffiths Viking, 2025     Elly Griffiths’ latest mystery, The Frozen People—which is scheduled for release on July 8—is a likable first in a new and wholly original mystery series. In fact, it is a hybrid of sorts, since Ali Dawson, part of a secret cold case team with the meaningless title of the Department of Logistics, is tasked with solving cases so cold they use a new, and not completely understood technology, to travel back in time and gather evidence. The team’s operating procedures are simple: watch, bear witness, don’t interact, and stay safe. To date these rules have been easy to follow since the time jumps have been reasonably short and the people being watched were unable to see Ali. But things change when the politically connected Isaac Templeton—a Tory MP and the boss of Ali’s son, Finn—asks the Department to travel to the Victorian London of 1850 to clear his ancestor, Cain Templeton, of the suspicion that he killed three women. Isaac believes the whispers about Cain has sullied his family’s name and that Ali and the Department can clear it. Ali takes the challenge. With the help of an expert, she studies the era, readies the proper attire, and, not completely successfully, attempts to adopt the meek attitude of Victorian women. Of course, things go wrong quickly, the natives can see her, Ali gets stuck in 1850, and her son, Finn, is accused of murder back home in 2023. The Frozen People is a solid traditional mystery with an original concept and enough personality, in the form of Ali, to give it zing. While it starts slowly—the confusing number of characters introduced early-on is the primary culprit—the narrative picks up quickly when Ali jumps into the past. The Victorian London setting, from the attitudes and clothing to the colder than expected weather, is splendid. Ali is beset by one catastrophe after another until it seems her plight, and that of Finn, is doomed. And the time travel element? What isn’t great about a detective solving multiple murders across nearly 200 years?

Find The Frozen People on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the hardcover.

Booked (and Printed): June 2025

 

Booked (and Printed) June 2025   June was a challenging month. It was hot, humid, and the daylight hours—just like they are every year at this time—were too long. According to the weather folks, 15 hours and 29 minutes passed between sunrise and sunset on June 21, but predawn added at least another hour of light. Oy vey! I’m glad the days are getting shorter. Unfortunately, just like May, I had trouble with eye fatigue. And my reading suffered for it. I read only two books—both novels—and four short stories, which is the least productive month I’ve had in decades. Although, my generous wife read a couple books and a short story to me at bedtime: Joyland, by Stephen King (2013), Grave Descend, by Michael Crichton (1970), and “DEATH ROW,” by Freida McFadden (2025). The McFadden was an odd duck with an ending that was less surprising than confusing. My wife, who has read a bunch of McFadden’s tales, said, “it’s not her best.” And I truly believe her. But JOYLAND, which is among my favorite of King’s novels, was as much fun this second time as it was the first. A carnival setting, murder, a haunted scare ride, a wunderkind, and King’s talent with creating living, breathing characters—what more does a reader want? You can read my 2015 review of Joyland here. There’s nothing fancy about GRAVE DESCEND, but the plotting is solid and the Caribbean setting is nice and comfortable. While I enjoyed Grave Descend, I’ll admit I remember liking it better the first time I read it. I thought I had reviewed it back then, too, but when I looked, it turned out to be a phantom memory. But take my advice and if you’re going to read Joyland and Grave Descend back-to-back—read Grave Descend first because Joyland is a tough act to follow.   As for my solo efforts—NIGHT ON FIRE (2011), which is Douglas Corleone’s second Kevin Corvelli novel set on Oahu, is a fun legal thriller with a backsliding hero and a solid mystery. And the setting is perfectly Hawaiian. You can read my detailed review here. I don’t read many modern thrillers, but on a whim (and because it was the large print edition and I figured it would be easier on my eyes) I picked up Brian Freeman’s THE BOURNE VENDETTA (2025) from the library. The twentieth book in Robert Ludlum’s Jason Bourne franchise, The Bourne Vendetta was surprisingly good. The plotting was tight, the pacing brisk, and Freeman’s style is so much more readable than Ludlum’s ever was. I should also say, the last Bourne novel I read and finished was the first, The Bourne Identity (1980), and so a bunch has happened to Jason Bourne in the intervening eighteen books, but I had no trouble figuring out what was happening and I’m pretty sure you won’t either.

All four of the short stories I read in June are from Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine.  The first two—“The White Door,” by Stephen Ross, and “Little Old Ladies,” by Simon Brett—were part of the May 2010 issue. The second two— “The Dilmun Exchange,” by Josh Pachter, and “File #11: Jump Her Lively, Boys,” by Joe Gores—were in the July 1984 issue. Stephen Ross’s “THE WHITE DOOR” is a sparkling Hollywood tale about a perfect murder. Jack Gloucester, a Hollywood screenwriter, hesitantly accepts to help an actress plan the demise of her movie producer husband. On its face, Jack’s decision seems bad, but he figures to play it out and see what happens. The hardboiled narrative is sharp, the Hollywood of the early-1950s is captured nicely, and yeah, there is a nasty twist that made me smile. “LITTLE OLD LADIES,” by Simon Brett, is another gem. This traditional English village mystery is almost perfect with its subtle humor, sneaky amateur detective, and ironic and surprising ending. You can read my complete review here. Josh Pachter’s “THE DILMUN EXCHANGE” is a solidly good traditional whodunit with an exotic setting—a market in Bahrain during an annual sale—about a policeman, a jewelry heist, and the thief’s puzzling escape. Concise, witty, and with clues enough for the reader to solve, “The Dilmun Exchange” is good, happy fun. I have consistently struggled reading Joe Gores—which makes me sad because he is well liked by critics and readers alike—and his “FILE #11: JUMP HER LIVELY, BOYS” was no different. This DKA (Dan Kearny & Associates) private eye tale about agent Patrick Michael O’Bannon’s attempts to either collect back payments or repossess a city-owned fire engine is less story than it is vignette. There is some humor, a sneaky move or two, but there is no mystery anywhere. In fact, it seemed like an amusing anecdote that would be told on a golf course or in a pub. As for my favorite read of the month? I’m going to break all the rules again and choose Joyland, even if I’ve read it before. It’s just that good.  Fin— Now on to next month…

Ed Gorman and Ed & Lorraine Warren

 

Ed Gorman and Ed & Lorraine Warren *          *           *

The novelist Ed Gorman collaborated with demonologists Ed and Lorraine Warren on four “non-fiction” books about hauntings and demons between 1987 and 1992. One – The Haunted – was made into a surprisingly good television movie.

The Haunted, by Robert Curran with Jack & Janet Smurl and Ed & Lorraine Warren, was released as a blandly designed hardcover by St. Martin’s Press in 1988. It detailed an allegedly true account of the haunting of Jack and Janet Smurl in their West Pittson, Pennsylvania duplex. Kirkus called it “simplistic and clumsy, but undeniably luridly entertaining” and the dust jacket blurb claimed the Smurls were “victims of abuse—both mental and physical—by inhuman entities [threatening] their sanity, and even their lives.” Surprisingly, when the book was released, the Smurls were still living at the address where all that bad stuff happened. I’m pretty sure I would have moved somewhere less—ghastly. My interest in the book is less about the subject matter (and even less about Ed & Lorraine Warren) than it is about what the guy who did the actual writing, Ed Gorman, had to say about it. But first, Ed was a friend of mine, although I admit we never once set eyes on each other. He was a fine writer that wrote in every popular genre, except maybe romance. His marvelous 1990 story, “The Face”—set during the Civil War—earned him a Spur Award and the Private Eye Writers of America honored him with its Lifetime Achievement Award, The Eye, in 2011. And for those doubting whether Ed wrote The Haunted, this acknowledgment appeared on the copyright page of the original edition:    “Special thanks and acknowledgement to Ed Gorman for his work on this book.”  In a February 2016 email exchange between Ed and I, which was only eight months before Gorman’s death, he wrote: “[The Haunted is] a ‘non-fiction’ book about an allegedly true example [of] demonic possession.” The quotation marks around non-fiction are Ed’s, rather than mine. He added, “[the book] was ridiculous, but it made a good TV movie.” The movie Ed referenced was originally broadcast on Fox on May 6, 1991, and it is a good movie. Cheesy but effective with a few scares that kept this teenager (at the time anyway) wondering what made that sound after the lights went out. Its main players, Sally Kirkland and Jeffrey DeMunn, are terrific as the Smurls. The script is darn good, too. But, and this is important since we live in a world of lies, half-truths, and more lies, The Haunted, according to Ed Gorman is a novel masquerading as non-fiction. The late-Ray Garton, known mostly for his horror fiction, related his similar experience working with the Warrens in this excellent 2009 interview with Damned Connecticut here. Ed went on to write three more “non-fiction” books with the husband-and-wife “demonologists” in the few years following the appearance of The Haunted. For these latter three books Ed changed his nom de plume from Robert Curran to Robert David Chase. Why the change in name? I never thought to ask him, but here is a listing of all of Ed Gorman’s collaborations with Ed and Lorraine Warren: The Haunted: One Family’s Nightmare (1988) Ghost Hunters: True Stories from the World’s Most Famous Demonologists (1989) Werewolf: A True Story of Demonic Possession (1991) Graveyard: True Hauntings from an Old New England Cemetery (1992)

Epilogue: All of Ed’s books with the Warrens have been in print most of the years since their first publication, likely due to the Warrens’ success in Hollywood, but none, I’m sure Ed would say, are of any great literary value. But you know if Ed Gorman wrote them, they will (at least) be entertaining. Ed Gorman also used his Robert David Chase pseudonym for two short stories published in the mid-1990s (and neither had anything to do with the Warrens): “Fathers, Inc.” (Murder for Father, edited by Martin H. Greenberg, Signet, 1994. The anthology included two additional stories by Gorman: “Playground”, as by Daniel Ransom; and “Long Lonesome Roads”, by Ed Gorman [featuring Jack Dwyer].) “The Monster Parade” (Monster Brigade 3000, edited by Martin H. Greenberg and Charles Waugh, Ace, 1996. The anthology includes another of Gorman’s stories: “A Zombie Named Fred,” as by Jake Foster.)

A different version of this article appeared at Dark City Underground on January 31, 2022.

Review: "Night on Fire" by Douglas Corleone

 

Night on Fire by Douglas Corleone Minotaur Books, 2011     Douglas Corleone’s second Kevin Corvelli mystery, Night on Fire, is a snappy and sharp legal thriller with personality—in the form of the almost debauched and always fun Corvelli. While chatting-up a cougar in his favorite outdoor beach bar, in Ko Olina on Oahu, Corvelli is among the many witnesses of a nasty and drunken fight between newlyweds. Corvelli’s only thoughts about the dust-up are: 1) too bad he doesn’t do divorces; and 2) just how sexy the bride is. With that, Kevin follows his libido into the cougar’s room in the Liholiho Tower of the Kupulupulu Beach Resort where the fight would have been forgotten, except later that night the Liholiho catches fire, killing eleven—including the sparring groom—and very nearly gets Kevin, his cougar, and a four-year-old boy named Josh Leffler that Corvelli befriended at the hallway vending machine. It takes investigators only a few hours to rule the fire as arson and a few more to finger the angry bride, Erin Simms, as their prime suspect. Of course, Corvelli takes Erin’s case, pisses off his law partner, Jake Harper, and makes one or two ethically dubious choices while facing down a prosecutor that seems to have a personal grudge against him. Night on Fire is a great summertime read—from its vivid Hawaii setting to Kevin Corvelli’s questionable personal behavior; which Corleone obviously had fun writing. Corvelli is a borderline alcoholic, a confirmed skirt chaser, but a damn good lawyer and something of an okay guy once you scrape the gunk away. There is a bit of fish-out-of-water subplot here, too, as Corvelli takes a big brother-like interest in the young Josh Leffler. The mystery is nicely developed with a handful of well-placed clues and the courtroom scenes are excellent. The climactic twist ending is on the far side of wild, but it didn’t bother me a whit since the journey there was so damn fun. Night on Fire is a must read for anyone with a hankering for entertainment and a desire to get away this summer without leaving home.

Night on Fire appears to be out-of-print (for some sick reason), but you can check out the original hardcover here at Amazon.

Review: "Them Bones" by David Housewright

 

Them Bones by David Housewright Minotaur Books, 2025   David Housewright’s Them Bones—which is the twenty-second Rushmore McKenzie mystery—is a tale of… well, two tales of the same story. Okay, not really two tales, but rather a single story told in two different styles. The McKenzie books are written in first person from the perspective of McKenzie—an unlicensed private eye in Minnesota’s Twin Cities, that spends his time doing favors for friends. But Them Bones is distinct from its predecessors because the crime is detailed in third person from the perspective of the client, Angela Bjork. We last saw Angela as a girl saving McKenzie’s life in The Taking of Libbie, SD (2010), but now she is all grown up and working on her Ph.D. in paleontology at the University of Minnesota. Angela discovered a nearly intact fossil of an Ankylosaurus while working a dinosaur dig in Montana. It was a profound find because it is the most complete of its kind, but before the bones can be transported to the Twin Cities, the skull was stolen. Angela tells McKenzie, and the reader, about the discovery (in May) and the heist (in August) and everything that happened in-between. In this unofficial prologue, Angela introduces the suspects—professors, students, and other miscellany—that were present at the dig site when the heist occurred. The paleontology stuff was interesting, including how the dig was done, the problems they encountered and personalities involved; however, it took so long, about a quarter of the narrative, that I had begun thinking McKenzie had the week off. But once McKenzie agrees to help Angela recover the Ankylosaurus, and he takes charge of the narrative things really pick up. In fact, Them Bones, suddenly becomes a McKenzie novel. With his subtle and not-so-subtle wit, his penchant for finding trouble and breaking the rules, and his always gallant search for justice, McKenzie does an admirable job of flushing out the villains. The action moves from college campuses (there are two), to a museum, to high class neighborhoods, and from Minnesota to Montana to Canada and back again. And it is a good bit of fun. But that opening prologue made the entire enterprise a little wobbly. Its length almost made me give up before the good stuff started, which I’ve never encountered with David Housewright’s writing. It felt like Housewright was setting-up a traditional whodunit, which is cool, but (for me at least) it never quite worked that way. What I did like about Them Bones is far more than what I disliked. As usual, the setting—the Twin Cities, Montana, and even rural Canada—was vivid and melded perfectly with the story. The actual mystery, who was the Inside Man that helped the thieves steal the skull, is compelling and McKenzie’s self-deprecating style and often flippant attitude is fun. There is a good deal of subterfuge and the final reveal is both surprising and perfectly right. But a few hours spent with McKenzie, even in a flawed tale like Them Bones, is always a chore to look forward to.

Find Them Bones on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the paperback.