Booked (and Printed): January 2026

 

Booked (and Printed) January 2026   Wowzers, January was frigid! If the mercury inched above freezing it was a fleeting affair. The negative temps piled up as quickly as my firewood dwindled. Although it made for a perfect reading month. And I did okay with four books, a solitary short story, and two philosophical essays by the brilliant Bertrand Russell. But my left eye is still a roadblock: I can’t read for as long as I once did and my reading speed has suffered, too. But let’s stop with the whining and get to what I did read. The month started with Michael Richards’s fabulous memoir, ENTRANCES AND EXITS (2024). Richards, of course, is best known for his unforgettable performance as Cosmo Kramer on that most ’90s of the 1990s television scene, Seinfeld. Richards doesn’t mire his story with name-dropping or “look how brilliant I am” vignettes. Instead, he reveals himself as a flawed introvert seeking redemption and understanding—his understanding about himself and this life we all share. Entrances and Exits is exactly how a memoir should be written: with thoughtfulness and truth. Next up was another memoir, THE PULP JUNGLE, by Frank Gruber (1967). Gruber made a living, and I’m guessing a good living, writing for the pulps in the 1930s and early-1940s before moving to Hollywood. IMDb shows an impressive 55 writing credits, mostly for television, between 1939 and 1968. In The Pulp Jungle, he (mostly) discusses his early years breaking into the pulps, including moving to New York City with the ambition of writing fiction for a living. Gruber succeeded, but the journey was harrowing. There are stories about Steve Fisher—perhaps Gruber’s best friend—Frederick Faust, aka Max Brand, who he worked with in Hollywood, and a bunch of others, too. The Pulp Jungle is a solid memoir with enough inside dope to interest anyone interested in the pulps.

DOWN INTO THE SEA, by Dan Franklin (2024), is an uneven horror novella with a rich atmosphere and a flawed plot. Fourteen-year-old Eric Ross’s life is a mess. His mother is an addict. His father is in prison. And Eric is bullied at school and looking for an escape. That escape arrives as a mermaid swimming under the pier of his small Massachusetts hometown. But everything crashes when people start dying. I didn’t love Down Into the Sea, but it showed enough life that I’ll likely try another of Franklin’s tales sometime soon. January ended with Robert J. Ray’s first (of seven) Matt Murdock mystery, BLOODY MURDOCK (1986). This was my third reading of Bloody Murdock and it’s a book I’m a tad sentimental about since I first read it over Christmas break as a middle schooler. It begins with Murdock taking a bodyguard gig, but it quickly turns into a murder investigation after his client awkwardly dies. I had fun from the first page to the last. Murdock is a P.I. with a dash of 20th Century men’s adventure thrown in for good measure. It was also my introduction to the private eye form. With a little luck I’ll read it again in ten or fifteen years. As for those two Bertrand Russell essays. The first is “WHY I AM NOT A CHRISTIAN” (1927), and the second is “HAS RELIGION MADE USEFUL CONTRIBUTIONS TO CIVILIZATION?” (1930). In both, Russell makes a compelling argument about, mostly, Christianity’s lack of morality. His argument is supported with evidence from the Bible and the historical record. Whether you agree with Russell’s conclusions, his work—including these two essays—is always thoughtful, succinct, and worthwhile. My solitary foray into the world of short fiction, “THE WATER HOLE,” by Jim Kjelgaard (1954 / Bluebook), is a short-short about life and death at a water hole. As usual, Kjelgaard captures the animals as they are rather than imbuing them with human traits. And I liked this one a bunch. As for my favorite book of the month? It is, absolutely, Entrances and Exits. Fin— Now on to next month.

Booked (and Printed): October 2025

 

Booked (and Printed) October 2025     October came and went with the same dreariness as a solitary night cap. The shortening daylight and crisp temps marked the passage from summer into autumn. Halloween was a blast, but with mixed emotions since it was the first year our sweet daughter spent the holiday with her friends rather than her dear old parents. But keep in mind my complaints are, at worst, superficial since I truly am a lucky man. I have a home, a family, a good job, and— Almost everything a man could want. Including more reading material than anyone could finish in a long, long lifetime. My reading was shallow again: two books—both novels—and seven short stories. This sparsity was due, mostly, to my continued eye troubles, which I’m not going to talk much about here but for the curious you can always read my prior Booked (and Printed) post here. Those same eye issues are why this post is so late, too. The month opened with a return to John Keyse-Walker’s brilliant Caribbean-set Teddy Creque mystery series. REEFS, ROYALS, RECKONINGS (2023), which is the final (so far at least) of four books. But hopefully not the last. In this one, a royal in direct line—albeit a distant one—to the throne of England is visiting the British Virgin Islands. At Government House welcome party, the royal and her husband, an American of little worth, are thrust into a murder investigation after a woman attending the gala is gunned down. Teddy is his usual affable and brilliant, if insecure, self. The mystery is tightly wound. The plot is fun and unique. And while I guessed the culprit earlier than I should have, the journey into Teddy’s world was a blast. If you enjoy BBC’s Death in Paradise, you’ll love Reefs, Royals, Reckonings, as well as the other three Teddy Creque mysteries. The other book-length mystery was the unorthodox WE CAN’T SAVE YOU, by Thomas E. Ricks (2025). We Can’t Save You is part mystery, part thriller, and part political manifesto. When a group of Maine First People organize a recurring protest on a bridge that routinely floods it gives rise (yeah, pun very much intended) to a larger movement: a First People’s protest against industrial caused climate change. The bulk of the narrative follows a peaceful march of natives down Maine’s coast. The issues We Can’t Save You discusses are interesting and relevant, but there wasn’t much of a mystery, or any suspense, either. But it still pulled me to the last page without more than a few complaints along the way.

Now for those seven short stories. Peggy Wurtz Fisher’s “THE PICKUP”—which appeared in the Department of “First Stories” in the October 1984 issue of EQMM—is a dazzling dark suspense tale about a single mother and a drifter. The perfectly ironic twist will bring a smile to even the most jaded reader. There is a touch of James M. Cain about “Pick Up”—and wow did I like it. “THE BOOK CASE,” by Nelson DeMille (2012), features DeMille’s recurring character, John Corey. The tale—the plotting, narrative, etc.—is pedestrian but readable. The real pain is Corey’s constant reminders of his brilliance as a detective. He had to remind us how damn good he is because it surely never surfaced in the narrative. Oy vey. It was like watching a Pink Panther movie without any of the humor. Joe Hill’s “THE PRAM” (2023), is as entertaining as any story I’ve read this year. About a married couple mourning a miscarriage, it is haunting and spooky with a dry wit and a lively and clever style. It is a horror story and a very, very good one. “BIG DRIVER,” by Stephen King (2008), is a revenge tale about a midlist cozy mystery writer—Tess Thorne—and her turn with a psychopath nicknamed Big Driver. The action, from almost the first page to the last, is brutal. There is a rape and an attempted murder. But Tess comes through the far side with a do-it-yourself kind of justice. I liked this one a bunch, but if violence and fear bother you, Big Driver is one you should skip. As an aside, “Big Driver,” was filmed as a Lifetime movie starring the always watchable Maria Bello. October ended with a trio of Jack Ketchum shorts—in honor of Halloween—culled from his brilliant collection Peaceable Kingdom (2003). “THE RIFLE” (1996), is a tale of fear and motherhood—what would you do if you discovered your child was evil? “THE BOX” (1994) is about a box with a secret so dark it ruins anyone that looks inside. “The Box” won a Bram Stoker Award from the Horror Writers of America. And the final tale, “LUCK” (2000), is a weird western with a handful of hardcases stranded in an anonymous camp waiting for a comrade to die. My favorite story of October? It is most certainly, Joe Hill’s “The Pram.” Fin— Now on to next month…

Booked (and Printed): September 2025

 

Booked (and Printed) September 2025   It was a difficult month at Casa Boulden. You’ve probably noticed me whining regularly about my eyes and everything finally came to a head last month. But a little backstory first. All the way back in June my left eye went wonky when a cloud appeared at the top of my vision and bursts of black dots began floating like so many bugs. I went to my GP, who referred me to an ophthalmologist, who diagnosed the ailment as a cataract. In late August, the vision in my left eye began going dark; there were inky shadows and faded, splotchy light—without many (any, really) details. As it turned out, the eye doc’s diagnosis was wrong and my retina had detached. So I went to another ophthalmologist, this one specializing in the retina, who performed surgery to save my eye. So far, the surgery has been successful. The retina is reattached and the shadows have receded, which is wonderful. But my vision will never be as it was. In fact, the best I can hope for is 20-70 with corrective lenses and honestly, I’m a long, long way from there now. This prologue is something of an explanation as to why the blog has been so quiet in recent weeks and why my September reading was so damn lame. I finished one lousy novel, Brian Freeman’s PHOTOGRAPH (2025)—which is a damn terrific thriller with a supernatural element and enough suspense to fill any two ordinary thrillers. And yeah, there are a handful of genuine surprises and a likable heroine. You can read my detailed review here.

But that was it. There were no short stories, no novelettes, or novellas— Unless you count a solitary audio book, MARKED MAN, by Archer Mayor (2021), I listened to during those long days of my recovery. It is Vermont Bureau of Investigation detective, Joe Gunther’s 32nd outing and a whale of an entertaining mystery. Nathan Lyon built his dream in an old mill in Brattleboro, Vermont—with enough room for his children and grand children to live and space enough for their businesses, too. But the old man died a year earlier of what everyone thought were natural causes and when Gunther and his team begin sniffing around, they find everything about Nathan Lyon is a lie. Even his name, which (until he moved to Vermont) was Nick Bianchi. There are crazy and conniving relatives, low-grade mobsters, and enough paternal hatred to make the story interesting from beginning to end. There are a couple surprises, too. Marked Man’s narrator, Tom Taylorson, nails Gunther’s gritty voice and showed a real flair for hitting all the right notes, especially with character dialogue. My favorite book of the month? I’m going with Photograph. Fin— Now on to next month… May it be better than this one.

Booked (and Printed): August 2025

 

Booked (and Printed) August 2025   August was a better reading month than it should have been. Although its four books—one non-fiction and three fiction—and two novelettes were far from a big month. This is because I tend to have late summer reading slumps as I catch up on everything I missed doing earlier in the season. This year I had a couple other complications, too. I started a new job and—well, my damned eyes kept me from the page again. I have a diagnosis, which I’ll keep to myself for now, and a follow up appointment in a few weeks. My fingers and toes are crossed that I’ll get some good news when it happens. While my reading totals were higher than I figured, my reviewing here at the blog was abysmal. In fact, the only review I wrote was for the two novelettes, “BAE-I” and “ROOM E-36,” by Douglas Corleone. These two dark tech scifi tales are the beginning of a series of eleven stories in Corleone’s Ghost Signal: Dark Frequencies. And if the first two are any indication, this is a series to watch. Read my detailed review here. The month started with Max Allan Collins’s shrug-inducing, THE DARK CITY (1987), which is the first in his four book Elliot Ness series. Set in Cleveland, Ohio, after Ness takes the job of Cleveland’s safety director, The Dark City is about an incorruptible cop on a mission to clean-up a vice-ridden police department. The plotting and characters felt like they tumbled out of a 1930s pulp magazine—which is cool—but by the halfway point it had grown rather dull and I found myself yearning for something more interesting. If you’ve never tried Collins, check out his Nathan Heller books. Interestingly, Heller makes a cameo as an incorruptible private eye in The Dark City.

The something more interesting came in the form of Brian Freeman’s INFINITE (2021). This thriller, which is seeded with elements of science fiction, is a breakneck antidote for boredom. Dylan Moran’s life started in the muck—as a boy Dylan watched his father kill his mother before killing himself. And his life has been hobbled by the trauma of that night ever since. Then when Dylan loses his wife, Carly Chance, in a car crash, Dylan sees a familiar man watching it all. A man that could have saved Carly if he'd tried. Infinite is a shocking and an almost surreal—without acting or reading surreal—thriller. It’s a journey into a world of what ifs and what-could-have-beens. The scifi elements, if you haven’t guessed already, are centered around the idea of alternate universes and at least one man’s ability to navigate from one to another. And boy is it fun. My lone foray into fact came with the young adult title, GEORGE WASHINGTON, SPYMASTER, by Thomas B. Allen (2004). This look at the espionage business of the Revolutionary War—which included cyphers, planting false information, stealing correspondence, and running spies throughout the colonies—is informative, fun, and (dare I say) even entertaining. I liked it so much it wouldn’t surprise me if I read it again sometime. August ended with Hank Phillipi Ryan’s psychological thriller, ALL THIS COULD BE YOURS—which is scheduled for release Sep. 9, 2025. Three years ago Tessa Calloway started a national online movement, #MomsWith Dreams, when she livestreamed quitting her job. Since then Tessa has spent more time with her family—husband Henry and their two children Linny and Zack—and written a bestselling novel with an indomitable protagonist named Annabelle Brown. Readers love Annabelle and Tessa, and while on a weeks-long book tour, Tessa, finds this new-found fame gratifying but as the days and events pile up the attention becomes cloying and claustrophobic. Even worse, Tessa believes someone is trying to unveil her dirty little secret: “The one her mother had warned would ruin her.” All This Could Be Yours is a solid thriller with an attitude that is all Hank Phillippi Ryan. Tessa is a complicated and likable character with real world fears, which all of us can relate to. The pacing, especially in the first third of the novel, is a touch slow but Tessa’s likability keeps the narrative interesting. Once the action begins—when the blackmail plot is revealed—all the early flaws are quickly forgotten. And that final reveal is a doozy. My favorite book of August? I’m going with George Washington, Spymaster. Fin— Now on to next month…

Booked (and Printed): July 2025

 

Booked (and Printed) July 2025     July is fireworks, apple pie, heat, humidity, fireflies, swimming, long but shortening days, and quite honestly both the best and worst of summer. The worst (of course) is the heat and humidity. The best is…well, for me, the swimming. I won’t bore you with the heat since I’m sure you have your own awful version, but the best of our summer? I’ll share some of that. We’ve been swimming in the lakes around our home: Lake Bomoseen, Lake St. Catherine, and Emerald Lake. We saw snapping turtles in Bomoseen, sat in a frigid spring at St. Catherine (every time we go), and got caught in an epic rainstorm at Emerald. A rainstorm that almost drowned us; or at least made us really, really wet. As for reading? July’s numbers were better than the prior month’s but it was far from my best with five novels and two short stories. The lackluster numbers are due to my aching eyes, but I kept the course, followed my doctor’s advice and pushed forward anyway. So—with that, I’ll stop complaining. Of the five novels I completed, three were released in 2025: DEATH OF AN EX, by Delia Pitts, LENGTH OF DAYS, by Lynn Kostoff, and Falls to Pieces, by Douglas Corleone. All three were enjoyable and I wrote detailed reviews of the first two here and here. Okay, so my review of Length of Days hasn’t hit yet. But it will soon. As for FALLS TO PIECES—it is something different from the talented and reliable Corleone’s usual fare since it fits nicely into the psychological thriller category. His other work tends toward straight thrillers, crime, and mystery. Kati Dawes and her seventeen-year-old daughter, Zoe, are hiding from Kati’s estranged husband, Jeremy, in the tropical paradise of Maui. Their protected world is shattered when Kati’s fiancé, Eddie, disappears while the couple are hiking. Kati tells law enforcement she last saw Eddie talking on his cell phone, waving for her to go on ahead of him. Of course, Kati is the prime suspect in Eddie’s disappearance and she doesn’t do much to help her cause. Her story is scattered and inconsistent and it doesn’t always line up with the evidence at the scene. And this inconsistency spreads to the reader since Kati is the primary narrator and she is oh so wonderfully unreliable. Things get worse when Eddie’s disappearance hits the national news—and images of Kati are broadcast that bring her ex, Jeremy, scrambling to the island. Falls to Pieces is good fun. The Maui setting is marvelous enough that one can almost smell the trees and earth, and taste the ocean air. The action is swift as it moves around Maui with an almost breathless fervor. The final twist is surprising, as are those preceding it, but I found myself wishing there had been a few more clues to prepare me for that last reveal. With that said, I liked Falls to Pieces and hope to see more fiction like this from Douglas Corleone.

The two “vintage” books I read in July are: What the Dead Leave Behind, by David Housewright (2017), and FRONT SIGHT, by Stephen Hunter (2024). Front Sight is a collection of three Swagger novellas—one each starring Bob Lee, Earl, and Charles (Bob Lee’s grandad). A collection I liked, and one I reviewed here. WHAT THE DEAD LEAVE BEHIND is David Housewright’s fourteenth Rushmore McKenzie and I really dug it. McKenzie is a former St. Paul, Minnesota cop, turned millionaire that does “favors” for friends. Erica, the daughter of McKenzie’s longtime girlfriend Nina Truhler, asks McKenzie to help her college friend, Malcolm Harris, find out who murdered his father, Frank Harris, a year earlier. The police case has gone cold and it seems no one, even Malcolm’s mother and Frank’s widow, cares if the crime is ever solved. McKenzie is hesitant to get involved, but he can’t say no to Erica, and what he finds are another murder that seems to be connected to Frank’s and an array of suspects and motives. What the Dead Leave Behind is a solid mystery—the plotting is tight, the clues are rampant, and the suspense builds with every page. There is Housewright’s usual brilliant Twin Cities (and beyond) setting, too. But it is McKenzie’s witty tongue and his tough guy style that give What the Dead Leave Behind that all too rare shimmer. As for my paltry list of short stories: Both came from the October 1983 issue of Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. I won’t say anything about the first, “HOW’S YOUR MOTHER?,” by the always reliable Simon Brett, since you can read my full review here. The other, “LOCKED DOORS,” by Lilly Carlson, appeared in EQMM’s Department of “First Stories.” I had never read anything by its author and my internet searches failed to uncover anything else by (or about) her—do any of you know anything about Ms. Carlson?—but I liked “Locked Doors” a bunch. A psychological thriller with an unreliable narrator, a writer of course, with a couple kids, a dog, and what may or may not be an overactive imagination. This one is worth looking up if you’re of a mind. The only book I started and failed to finish was Elise Hart Kipness’s latest release, CLOSE CALL (2025)—which is slated for release on August 19. This third in the Kate Green mystery series is set at the U.S. Open tennis grand slam championship tournament in Flushing Meadows, New York. But it could have been set anywhere since little of the tournament filters into the story until late in the day. At its center, a world class and mostly despised female tennis champion is kidnapped, and Kate (a television sports newscaster) and her father, an NYPD detective, are the only hope of getting her back alive. I made it more than 70-percent of the way through but it failed to pique my interest from the first sentence to the last one I read. There is repetition, not much character development, and the U.S. Open setting could have been so much better. But that’s just me… Okay, as my mom always taught me, exit on something positive. My favorite book of the month? What the Dead Leave Behind. Just thinking about it makes me want to dip into  McKenzie’s next adventure, which if memory serves is Like to Die (2018). Fin— Now on to next month…

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…

Booked (and Printed): May 2025

 

Booked (and Printed) May 2025   We’ve all heard the rhyme, “April showers bring May flowers”—which is popularly thought to come from a poem written by Thomas Tusser in 1557; although his version reads, “Sweet April showers / Do spring May flowers”—but a more accurate maxim for Vermont would be: “May showers bring June flowers.” Yeah, May was chilly and wet around here, but all the trees have leafed and as I write this the sun is shining and the temperature is hovering at a comfy 70-degrees. But we’re still waiting for the promised flowers even as I took a leisurely, but ill-considered swim in the icy waters of Lake Bomoseen on Memorial Day. I’m certain I’ll still have goosebumps in July from that misadventure. But, all that rain made a nice excuse for spending some of May’s the spring-time weather reading. And I took advantage of it by finishing an impressive (for me at least) eight novels and two short stories. Before I go on, you’ll notice this Booked (and Printed) is shorter than usual even though my reading in May was higher than average and my reviewing for the blog was below normal. I only reviewed three of the eleven titles I read, and one, THE BLUE HORSE, by Bruce Borgos, isn’t scheduled for release until July 8—so come back and read my review then. So, since I’ve had recent trouble with eye strain, I’m going to be brief for once. First up is David Housewright’s fourth McKenzie mystery, DEAD BOYFRIENDS (2007). This is my last out-of-order title in the series and while it isn’t top-tier McKenzie, it’s still pretty good for the usual reasons: well-painted setting, a bunch of action, a solid mystery, and well, McKenzie is at the helm. Next up is Mailan Doquang’s second Rune Sarasin caper thriller, CEYLON SAPPHIRES (2025). I liked it. You can read my review here. A read a trio of titles from John Lutz, starting with a couple short stories: “TOUGH”—published in Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine in 1980—and “HIGH STAKES,” which originally appeared The Saint Magazine in 1984. Both tales are hardboiled and fun with “High Stakes” coming out the clear winner for overall quality. In fact, I reviewed “High Stakes” here. The third Lutz title is his 1988 novel, KISS, which is private eye Fred Carver’s third outing. The Carver books are top-notch, and Kiss is no exception. The mystery is taut, the suspense is built scene-by-scene until that final climax, and Florida’s brutally hot and wet climate is perfectly detailed. An absolute winner.

ROBAK’S FIRE, by Joe L. Hensley (1986)—which is the eighth Don Robak—is a book I intended to review, but time got away from me and…. In nutshell, Robak’s Fire is a nice mixture of a private eye novel and a legal thriller. Robak’s investigative genius is done in the streets while his partners are stranded in the courtroom. The rural Indiana setting is bleak, the suspects—in what begins as an insurance case and morphs into something else—are nicely cut, and Robak’s no nonsense demeanor perfectly makes the case. Robak’s Fire isn’t brilliant, but it is a competent and an entertaining fiction. Another title I had hoped to review is John D. MacDonald’s THE DEEP BLUE GOOD-BY (1964). This was my third reading of the first Travis McGee novel and I was even more impressed this time than I had been the first two. The Deep Blue Good-by is, by my estimation, the best in the McGee series and perhaps one of the best men’s adventure-type detective novels ever written. JDM manages to tell a tightly plotted and a surprising story with a minimal of the cultural asides that clutters many of the other books in the series. My May foray into the literary was THE RED PONY, by John Steinbeck (1933), which is comprised of four interconnected tales about a boy named Jody growing up in the late-Nineteenth Century on a farm in northern California. The titular red pony only appears in the first tale and while that title gives the quartet a “book for kids” vibe it is anything but. There is loss, heartache, joy, and everything in between. It is realistic and damn good.  The month ended with Terry Shames’s disappointing DEEP DIVE (2025). The second book in her Jesse Madison series—Jesse is a scuba diver with aspirations of joining the FBI’s diving program, USERT—is short on plot, high on implausibility, and climaxes with a ho-hum sigh. It was good enough to finish, but it could have been so much better. As for my favorite read of the month? I’m going to break all the rules and choose The Deep Blue Good-by, even if I’ve read it before. It’s just that good.  Fin— Now on to next month…

Booked (and Printed): February 2025

Booked (and Printed) February 2025     February zipped by with a whisper. Valentine’s Day, cold weather, and all. Did I mention it was cold? The temperature peaked a ten or more degrees below freezing every damn day until February 25th (when it smiled with a toasty 32-degrees), and there were more than a few days with subzero lows. March, at least in the weather department, is bound to be better. My reading quantity came out mediocre with five novels and three short stories, and the quality of what I read was uneven. Uneven because two of those tales—a novel and a short story—were…as Toad likes to say, blah. I started the month on a high note with David Housewright’s first Rushmore McKenzie, A HARD TICKET HOME (2004). For the last year I’ve been raiding my library’s impressive McKenzie collection—it has 18 of the 21 titles (so far)—and all of those missing are from the first half of the series, including the debut. So my lovely and thoughtful wife gave me A Hard Ticket Home for Christmas and I waited as long as I could before reading it—which was about a month. It was fun to see how McKenzie evolved in the two decades since his introduction and how much he had stayed the same. Read my detailed review here. Up next was Ken Bruen’s impressive new Jack Taylor, GALWAY’S EDGE (2025). Taylor is a disgraced former Guardia, read that policeman, turned private eye in Galway, Ireland. He lives by his own ethical standards, which are often at odds with those of society. In Galway’s Edge, Jack is hired by The Vatican to look into a vigilante group roaming Galway’s dark corners. Of course everything turns to s—, but Jack takes it all in stride. Read my detailed review here. BAD MOON, by Todd Ritter (2011)—who is better known under his pseudonym Riley Sager—was the dark horse of the month. I pulled this one from the library shelf for no other reason than it had been published by Minotaur Books; see my reasoning why here.  And wow did it fill a reading need I didn’t know I had. Bad Moon leans into the psychological thriller subgenre with its twisty and surprising plot but it does so without the jolts and the “oh come on” plot twists that often dampen the genre. I liked it a bunch and I’m certain I’ll find my way back to Ritter’s writing again. Read my detailed review here. February’s bum read is an old paperback original I’ve been carrying around for two decades, give or take a year or three. Jack D. Hunter’s THE TERROR ALLIANCE (1980) is a cold war spy thriller that began promising enough with a little humor, some action, and a cool take on the late-1970s CIA. It even has some relevance in today’s post-truth MAGA world—only one example is a US president exiting NATO and abandoning Europe. But this tantalizing opening was defeated by an overly complicated plot and a bunch of talk-talk filler that made reading a chore rather than a relief. Which is a shame because I’ve read a handful of Hunter’s thrillers with good results. The last book of February returned me to the same world as the first. THEM BONES, by David Housewright (2025), is the latest entry in the McKenzie series and well… it doesn’t come out until June 24 and so I won’t go into detail now. But rest assured I’ll have a review on the street before it hits the bookstores. My favorite book of the month? It must be Bruen’s Galway’s Edge.

As for short stories, my intake was limited. I read three and of those, two were damn good and the third was odd and ultimately disappointing. The first, Judy Alter’s “SWEET REVENGE” (1994), is a treacherous, and most excellent, tale about an abused woman in the Old West. It highlights the misery many women suffered on the frontier and its open ending is perfectly perfect. I liked it a bunch. I read “Sweet Revenge” in Ed Gorman’s fine anthology The Best of the American West (1998). “HOW I SPEND MY DAYS AND MY NIGHTS,” by Håkan Nesser (2006), is the first of two tales I read from a cool Swedish Crime boxed set I picked up at a library sale—I wrote about the set here. This brilliant crime story has a Hitchcockian flare with an ironic ending that I’ve been thinking about ever since I read it. Read my detailed review here. The other Swedish Crime tale was Arne Dahl’s “MIGRAINE” (2012). This wacky sorta existentialist tale is just good enough to finish, but its weirdness and lack of any action or even an interesting conclusion made it frustrating. Only part of the frustration is when, in the last few paragraphs, the reader realizes the whole exercise is nothing more than an advertisement for Dahl’s novels. It had the same buzz as Ralph’s Little Orphan Annie’s decoder ring, from A Christmas Story, when it spelled out: “Drink More Ovaltine.” Fin— Now on to next month…