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…

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).

Booked (and Printed): Dec. 2024

 

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.

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…

Review: "Breaking Cover" by J. D. Rhoades

 

Breaking Cover J. D. Rhoades Minotaur Books, 2008     Breaking Cover is a supercharged, violent thriller, and as entertaining as the genre gets. Undercover F.B.I. agent, Tony Wolf, went underground four years ago after his assignment with a ruthless biker gang, known as the Brotherhood, went sideways. On the run, and unsure who he can trust—including some of his fellow F.B.I. agents—Wolf finds a hidey-hole in the small, picturesque town of Pine Lake, North Carolina. But Wolf blows his cover when he rescues two brothers from their kidnapper after seeing one of them in the window of a van. An F.B.I. agent recognizes Wolf from a gas station security camera, which rings more than a few bells in Washington. Then a tenacious local tv reporter captures Wolf on film—and identifies him as a possible conspirator in the boys’ kidnapping. When Wolf’s image hits the national media, it brings the Brotherhood to Pine Lake looking for a very rough kind of justice. Breaking Cover, which was originally advertised as a standalone, is the first of two thrillers featuring Tony Wolf. The second is Broken Shield (2013). I haven’t read that second book—in fact, Breaking Cover is my first experience with Rhoades’s writing. But man, it won’t be my last. The breakneck pacing, the sleek, literate, and hardboiled style give it sizzle. There are gunfights, explosions, hidden tunnels, a hard-as-nails deputy Sheriff, and Wolf’s wife—who figured her husband had been dead for the last four years. But it’s the vileness of the Brotherhood with their irrational hatred of Wolf and a penchant for dispatching its enemies with the grotesque Blood Eagle, and Wolf’s paranoia that keeps him running and gunning that give Breaking Cover pop.

Find Breaking Cover on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the paperback.