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…

Passages: David Housewright's "What the Dead Leave Behind"

 

This tough guy line from David Housewright’s What the Dead Leave Behind (2017), the 14th book in the McKenzie series, caught my eye because of its simple truth. Of course, being a hardboiled mystery that truth is cached in bravado and a promise of violence. But still, it is a truth—bullies break the rules while expecting and using the rules to shackle their victims. A tactic we’ve seen almost daily over the past decade in national politics and one we haven’t figured out, as a society, how to deal with.  *               *               *

I spoke slowly and succinctly. “Pricks like you get away with your bullshit because you refuse to play by the rules, but you expect everyone else to. I’m not that guy. You dare threaten the people I care about? You should have done better research.”

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.

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): April 2025

Booked (and Printed) April, 2025     April in Vermont is a marvelous potpourri of good and bad weather. It snowed, the sun glimmered, trees began leafing, and a handful of 70-degree days popped here and there. And of course, it wouldn’t be Vermont without mud. Tax Day came and went, my daughter received a couple school awards for being respectful—we could all learn something from her. When I wasn’t fretting, doing chores, and trying to make a living, I read. There were seven books, all novels, and two short stories. April saw my first DNF, did not finish, of the year, too, which I’ll get back to later because I really wanted to like it, but I really didn’t. The month started with David Housewright’s sixth Rushmore McKenzie novel, JELLY’S GOLD (2009). I read it out of order—I’m up to the fourteenth title overall—because it’s not in the library’s stacks. This visit with an earlier version of St. Paul’s favorite unlicensed private eye felt a little like time traveling since McKenzie’s circumstances have changed in the intervening years. In Jelly’s Gold, he still lives in Falcon Heights (rather than in Minneapolis with Nina) and drives an Audi (rather than a Mustang). It also marks the first appearance of one of my favorite supporting characters: Heavenly Petryk. Heavenly is movie star gorgeous, a self-described salvage expert specializing in brokering deals for stolen artifacts, and she is unscrupulous as hell. McKenzie is giddy when an old friend, Ivy Flynn, approaches him for help finding a couple million dollars of stolen gold bullion hidden somewhere in St. Paul in the 1930s by the notorious gangster, Frank “Jelly” Nash. The hunt is rooted in academic research, but only after McKenzie agrees to help does he discover there is more going on than he had been told. Another team of researchers are snapping at their heels—including the lovely Heavenly—and an unknown man begins tailing McKenzie around town. There is a good deal of St. Paul’s history as a sanctuary city for gangsters in the 1920s and 1930s included in the narrative—it was all new to me and super interesting, too—while never slowing the story or the fun. And Jelly’s Gold is bunches and bunches of fun with McKenzie’s smart-alecky narration, its bushelful of action, and sharp plotting. My first (of only two) short stories for the month was Henning Mankell’s nifty “THE MAN ON THE BEACH” (1999). This early Kurt Wallender novelette is a treasure for fans of Mankell and Wallander or anyone with a bent towards traditional mysteries with a dark edge. Read more about it in my review here. Next up was Domenic Stansberry’s excellent noirish crime novel, MANIFESTO FOR THE DEAD (2000), featuring real-life paperback writer Jim Thompson as the luckless hero. A marvelously entertaining novel with a few surprises and a vivid 1970s Hollywood setting. It’s a book I liked enough to read twice: the first time was all the way back in 2005. You can read my thoughts about this second reading here. Speaking of books starting with M. I received an advanced copy of Mary Dixie Carter’s excellent gothic psychological thriller, MARGUERITE BY THE LAKE (2025). I read it in just a few sittings and loved every word. My review is scheduled for May 19, and Marguerite by the Lake is set for release on May 20, 2025. Do me a favor and come back when my official review drops.
April also saw me dip my toes back into Stephen King’s literary world. Man, I love this guy’s work! His 1984 thriller, THINNER, was released as the fourth book with King’s then-secret nom de plume, Richard Bachman. The NAL hardcover edition even included an author photograph of a sketchy looking dude that is most definitely not Stephen King. At least not the Stephen King I’ve come to recognize over the decades. King was identified as Bachman when an enterprising bookstore clerk found a copyright filing that identified Stephen King as Richard Bachman. And presto—the maestro of horror was outed.
If you’ve been alive for any part of the last thirty years, it’s likely you know what happens in Thinner: an obese lawyer, Billy Halleck, is cursed by a 106-year-old Romani man after Billy hits and kills the man’s daughter with his, Halleck’s car. The curse? Halleck, who has been unsuccessfully dieting for years, will get thinner and thinner until he is no more. While Thinner is a second- or third-tier novel in King’s canon, it is a little sparser than his usual, it is still damn fun. And that ending? Pitch perfect! Check out the author photo of Richard Bachman on the right.  Another of my sneak peeks for the month was Stark House’s reprint of MAKE WITH THE BRAINS, PIERRE, by Dana Wilson. Its scheduled release date is June 6. Originally published in 1946, this psychological thriller is a brutal examination of Hollywood with a Cornell Woolrich-type bleakness. Which is saying, the story doesn’t match its farcical title at all. Come back on June 5 to read all my thoughts about Make with the Brains, Pierre.
Last year I read my first novel by J. D. Rhoades, Breaking Cover (2009), and loved it. So when I stumbled across his first book and the first in his Jack Keller series, THE DEVIL’S RIGHT HAND (2005), I jumped on it. Keller is a bail enforcement officer (aka bounty hunter) with a loner mentality and a tendency towards violence. Or maybe violence has tendency towards Keller. While apprehending a bail-jumper, DeWayne, on the hook for a B&E, Keller crashes into a killing scene—three men with guns beat Keller to the house where DeWayne is hiding out intending to kill him. But with a little luck, and Keller’s willingness to get his hands dirty, DeWayne escapes with his life. And Keller is chasing him like nobody’s business. The Devil’s Right Hand is brisk and violent. Keller gets beat up, he beats others up, and the body count is impressively high. Written with a hardboiled kick—a style I really liked—and bunches of action. Heck, there’s a shoot-out just outside a North Carolina courthouse. And Keller is a kick ass, over-the-top hero with a rich backstory and enough swagger to get out of most of the trouble he wades into. My final short story, “SNOOKERED,” by the unfamiliar (to me at least) Gerald Tomlinson, is on the other side of the mystery genre from The Devil’s Right Hand since it depends on misdirection and irony rather than pedal-to-the-metal action. Published in the Sept. 1983 issue of Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, this smile-inducing caper tale mixes fraud and college football with the best of intentions. A nice climactic twist gives it enough punch to make it worth seeking out. I read Denis Johnson’s fantastic literary western, TRAIN DREAMS (2002), as part my 2025 goal to explore new literary worlds outside my usual haunts. And I’m glad I did because it is a damn fine tale. Advertised as a novella, which is accurate, Train Dreams has enough story and meaning for a full novel. Do yourself a favor and read this book, but first read my detailed review of it here. I started and failed to finish Kate Flora’s DEATH AT THE WHEEL (1996). This third Thea Kozak mystery disappointed on almost every element. The characters were cartoonish. The plot and subplots were lifeless. Thea was unlikable. And the mystery? It never really started; at least it hadn’t when I quit reading at the halfway mark. Better critics than I rated Death at the Wheel as the weakest of Flora’s Thea Kozak novels, which is something, but I doubt I’ll try Kozak or Flora again. Oh yeah. Now for something positive. My favorite book of the month? Train Dreams, with Marguerite by the Lake as my favorite mystery. 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…

Review: "A Hard Ticket Home" by David Housewright

 

A Hard Ticket Home by David Housewright Minotaur Books, 2004   David Housewright’s first Rushmore McKenzie, A Hard Ticket Home, had escaped my reading eye until now. Before turning its first page, I had read eleven of the 22 books in the series so far and it was fun to see how McKenzie has changed from his first outing to the latest. One thing I noticed—many of McKenzie’s friends, including his best pal Bobby Dunston, call him, “Mac,” which isn’t the case as the series goes on. Another is, McKenzie is moodier in this first story than any of the others I’ve read. Of course he kills a few people and another is killed because of his snooping. But for the most part McKenzie is the same dented and likable hero as he has always been. A Hard Ticket Home opens with a telling of how a St. Paul beat cop, McKenzie, became a millionaire, and it was fun to have the nitty gritty of his future wealth spelled out. But the real meat of the story is about McKenzie’s search for Jamie Carlson. Seven years earlier, Jamie went missing from her parents’ Grand Rapids, Minnesota, home. Her parents—Jamie’s father built a deck for McKenzie’s lake house, which is how they’re acquainted—didn’t search for Jamie when she disappeared but now their younger daughter, Stacy, has leukemia and they are hoping Jamie is a match as a bone marrow donor. McKenzie tracks Jamie down without difficulty, which is when his (and Jamie’s) trouble begins. That trouble takes McKenzie inside a ruthless street gang, onto the guest list of an elite group of entrepreneurs, and turns him into a play thing of the FBI and ATF. A Hard Ticket Home’s Minnesota is less finely detailed than in the future books, but even so, the setting is nicely rendered. It is good fun to watch McKenzie and his series long paramour, Nina Truhler, meet in Nina’s jazz club, Rikkie’s, for the first time. The action, and as one expects from McKenzie there is a bunch, is top-notch and exciting. There are shootings, fisticuffs—including one that nearly kills McKenzie—and even an explosion. The mystery is fine-tuned with more than a couple twists, including a marvelous one near the end. Even better, McKenzie is his usual flawed, smart-alecky, and likable as hell self.

Find A Hard Ticket Home on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the paperback.

Playing Roulette with Minotaur Books

 

Playing Roulette with Minotaur Books   If you’ve been paying attention to the blog, you’ve already noticed my recent devotion to the writings of David Housewright; especially his long-running series about unlicensed Twin Cities P.I., Rushmore McKenzie. Back in February, 2024, I noticed the library had a shelf full of the McKenzie books in hardcover, which jangled my memory of when the long gone and fabled Leisure Books—fabled at my house, anyway—was reprinting the series in mass market during the second half of the ’00s. A title that had caught my attention back then was the second book in the series, Tin City (2005). I bought it but never read it, lost it in one move or another, and utterly forgot about both the series and Housewright. But this library bookshelf rekindled my interest in the series. So being a studious kind—and never really caring if I start with the first or twentieth title in a series—I studied each book, mostly looking at the blurbs from trades like Publishers Weekly (which I agree with often) and Kirkus (which I agree with less often) and settled on the eleventh book, The Devil May Care (2014), because it had received a starred review from PW. And wow did that book hit every note just right. To say I was hooked is an understatement. After turning the last page, I rushed to the library to retrieve the first book in the series, A Hard Ticket Home (2003), which of course wasn’t in the collection and so I rolled to the second, Tin City. The very same title that had caught my eye nearly two decades earlier.

After racing through a handful of the McKenzie’s, an idea jittered and popped. An idea that went something like this: the library has a bunch of mysteries published by Minotaur Books—the same house that has brought out all twenty-one of the McKenzie books—in the late ’00s and throughout the ’10s; so, I decided, I would concentrate much of my non-mandatory reading to the Minotaur Books sitting on the library’s shelves. And it went well, even though it was kind of like playing roulette with my reading since I often knew nothing about the books or authors before picking them up. Although I’ll admit I took too much advantage of the McKenzie’s since they accounted for eleven of the nineteen Minotaur titles I read. All eight of the authors were new to me and I have every intention of reading more books by at least five of those writers: David Housewright, Sasscer Hill, Brian McGilloway, John Keyse-Walker, and J. D. Rhoades. Due to sheer meanness, I chose not to finish two of the titles: Ranchero, by Rick Gavin (2011), and L’Assassin, by Peter Steiner (2008). As for 2025, I’m thinking of sticking to the game plan for at least the first few months, but after that, who knows? Maybe I’ll schedule my reading around Golden Books or maybe Harlequin’s NASCAR romance series or…. Here’s the rundown of the Minotaur Books I checked out from the library and read in 2024 (click the titles for the review, if I wrote one):

February The Devil May Care, by David Housewright (2014) – McKenzie #11 Tin City, by David Housewright (2005) – McKenzie #2

March Pretty Girl Gone, by David Housewright (2006) – McKenzie #3 Madman on a Drum, by David Housewright (2008) – McKenzie #5 The Taking of Libbie, SD, by David Housewright (2010) – McKenzie #7

April Flamingo Road, by Sasscer Hill (2017) – Fia McKee #1 Bleed a River Deep, by Brian McGilloway (2010) – Ben Devlin #3

May Man in the Water, by David Housewright (2024) – McKenzie #21 The Territory, by Tricia Fields (2011) – Josie Gray #1

June Highway 61, by David Housewright - 2011 – McKenzie #8 Ranchero, by Rick Gavin (2011) – Nick Reid #1

July Curse of the Jade Lady, by David Housewright (2012) – McKenzie #9

September The Last Kind Word, by David Housewright (2013) – McKenzie #10

November The Dark Side of Town, by Sasscer Hill (2018) – Fia McKee #2 Unidentified Woman #15, David Housewright (2015) – McKenzie #12

December Sun, Sand, Murder, by John Keyse-Walker (2016) – Teddy Creque #1 Breaking Cover, by J. D. Rhoades (2008) – Tony Wolf Stealing the Countess, by David Housewright (2016) – McKenzie #13 L’Assassin, by Peter Steiner (2008)

Trivia – My short story, “Asia Divine,” appeared in the same anthology, Bullets and Other Hurting Things (2021), as David Housewright’s tale, “Best Man.” A connection I didn’t realize I had with McKenzie’s creator until a few months ago. “Asia Divine” is available in my collection, Casinos, Motels, Gators (2024).