Review: "Eight Very Bad Nights" edited by Tod Goldberg

 

Eight Very Bad Nights edited by Tod Goldberg Soho Crime, 2024   This holiday themed collection, edited by Tod Goldberg, is an eclectic assortment of eleven entertaining tales—they are scattered across the hardboiled tradition with a couple crowding into noir—centered around the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah. Ivy Pochoda’s “Johnny Christmas” is an ironic take on crime, grandmotherly love, and the reasons why someone named Goldfarb would chuck it all for a handle like Christmas. “Shamash,” by David L. Ulin, is a thought-provoking and surprising noir about a son and his dying father; its bite so hard even the most callous reader will bleed. James D. F. Hannah’s “Twenty Centuries” is about murder, hatred—the kind of racist and antisemitic crap we’re seeing more and more of in our neighborhoods—and a mother’s sideways sorrow. Nikki Dolson’s “Come Let Us Kiss and Part,” is a noirish love story about hope, bad decisions, and even worse luck. “Dead Weight,” by Liska Jacobs, is an energetic tale verging into psychological thriller territory, about a romantic couple at the end of their relationship. But Raquel—one-half of the duo—isn’t eager to leave the other’s, Joel’s, beautiful apartment without a fight. Stefanie Leder’s “Not a Dinner Party Person” is a marvelous riff on the sociopath career climber motif, with a perfect twist played out during a latke celebration with her sister and mother. My favorite story in Eight Very Bad Nights—and it is likely yours will be different since every tale is good—is Lee Goldberg’s “If I Were a Rich Man,” featuring his anti-hero Ray Boyd tracking down a bundle of stolen cash during Hanukkah. Boyd plays all the notes just right and even falls into a honeytrap with both eyes open. Of course, everything works out for Boyd and the trip is a blast. There are also great stories from J. R. Angelella, Gabino Iglesias, Jim Rutland, and Tod Goldberg.

Check out Eight Very Bad Nights here at Amazon.

Review: "Crown Vic" by Lee Goldberg

 

Crown Vic
by Lee Goldberg
Cutting Edge Books, 2023

Crown Vic is different from what novelist and screenwriter Lee Goldberg is known for writing – easy going, well-plotted, and general audience mysteries like his brilliant Eve Ronin series – but the two villain-as-hero tales included in this collection are hardboiled and naughty fun. In the novelette length, “Ray Boyd Isn’t Stupid,” we find the eponymous character rolling into a lakeshore resort, Granite Point Park Resort, in Washington, fresh out of prison for stealing cars in his used police cruiser Crown Vic Interceptor. He takes a liking to the place (after some persuasion) and accepts a job: $10 an hour, along with room and board. The local Sheriff’s Deputy takes an immediate dislike to Ray, but the women all love Ray, including his boss’s wife, which is where all the trouble starts.
     The second, and the shorter of the two stories, “Occasional Risk” begins where the first left off. Ray is back in his Crown Vic moseying around Arizona’s southern desert and killing time at a seedy roadside motel in a nothing town. Ray Boyd isn’t stupid, and so when a glossy big-moneyed woman seduces him in the motel’s swimming pool he knows she wants something more than sex from him, but he’ll take the sex just the same…
     Crown Vic’s stories are a marvelous mash-up of Dan J. Marlowe’s early Earl Drake novels – The Name of the Game is Death, Endless Hour – and the erotic thrillers so popular in video stores during the 1990s. But Ray, even with all his failings, is a Lee Goldberg character: observant, witty, at times downright funny – for the reader at least – and a heck of a good escape for all of us drab work-a-day slobs.

Go here for the Kindle version and here for the paperback edition at Amazon.

Bullet Reviews: A smattering of praise

You may have noticed already (or not) that I’ve been struggling with posting new reviews on the blog recently. This is due to myriad reasons, none are of interest to anyone other than me (but check out my short story review column in Mystery Scene Magazine and my new book Blaze! Red Rock Rampage). So, to keep things moving I thought I would post a few small reviews, to the point with no fluff, written for places like Amazon, Goodreads, etc. Each review runs short—anywhere from 40 to 150 words—but I hope everything needed for an appropriate review are still there.

Night Show by Richard Laymon

An early Richard Laymon novel, Night Show, has all the elements that make his work special. Likable, if poor decision making, characters, cinematic plotting, smooth prose, and a mixture of subtle humor and horror. The setting, backstage B-movie horror special effects, is a bonus, too. 

The Dead Man: Face of Evil by Lee Goldberg and William Rabkin

The first entry in The Dead Man series, Face of Evil, is entertaining, odd (in a good way) and downright fun. Matt Cahill, a normal working class guy, finds himself in a very abnormal situation. Dead, but still breathing with a nemesis called Mr. Dark. It is an enjoyable mixture of action, suspense and horror. Humor and a tongue-in-cheek quality add marvelously to this very readable story. A terrific start to the series and I very much look forward to the other books.

The Dead Man: The Blood Mesa by James Reasoner

The Blood Mesa, the fifth installment of The Dead Man series, is an entertaining, non-stop action horror novel. Matt Cahill, The Dead Man, is in the Four Corners area of New Mexico at an Archaeological dig where Mr. Dark’s intentions are plain. Everyone must die. A smooth, action-oriented horror novel, high on entertainment. A fast, enjoyable and downright fun read. It reminded me a touch of Richard Laymon’s excellent horror novels, particularly One Rainy Night. 

The Dead Man: Carnival of Death by Bill Crider

Bill Crider’s Carnival of Death, the ninth book in The Dead Man series, is as much fun as a reader can have with paper and ink. Matt Cahill, The Dead Man, is working security for a carnival when the evil entity Mr. Dark begins playing games and the carnival goers start behaving in violent and disturbing ways. And it is up to Matt and his trusty ax to save the day. A carnival setting is similar to eating cotton candy without any of the less savory side effects (headaches, toothaches, grouchiness), and this story never faltered in its delivery. Action-oriented horror with splatter, a fortune telling love interest and (did I already say this?) a terrific setting. 

Tales from the Otherverse, edited by James Reasoner

Tales from the Otherverse is an entertaining and surprising anthology of alternate history stories. Bill Crider’s story “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” deservedly won a Sidewise Award for best alternate history short story. A world where Buddy Holly didn’t die in an Iowa plane crash and Elvis dumped Colonel Tom Parker as his manager turns out far differently than I would have suspected. “The Hero of Deadwood” by anthology editor James Reasoner is a clever retelling of Wild Bill Hickock’s story with a single moment changing the entire tale. The exchange of seats at a Deadwood poker game, keeping Hickock’s back against the wall.

There is also a fine Stan Wade story from John Hegenberger and seven other entertaining tales from excellent writers like, Scott A. Cupp, Lou Antonelli, Cheryl Pierson, Keith West, Robert E. Vardeman, Scott D. Parker, and Richard Prosch. An anthology very much worth the price of admission.

MR. MONK AND THE TWO ASSISTANTS by Lee Goldberg

The USA Network’s series Monk is one of the most enjoyable programs on television. It chronicles the adventures of the obsessive-compulsive and very brilliant Adrian Monk. Monk is a former San Francisco police detective who lost his job, his handle on life, and very nearly his sanity when his wife Trudy was killed by a car bomb. The television series has been turned into a series of novels written by Lee Goldberg.

The fourth novel in the series, and the latest, is Mr. Monk and the Two Assistants. As the title suggests we get a visit from Monk’s former assistant Sharona Fleming, and she is a lively addition to the normal cast. When her husband is accused of murder Sharona is heartbroken, and finds herself back in San Francisco working as a nurse. She doesn’t call on Monk to solve the murder because she thinks her husband is guilty, but as luck would have it, her and Monk find each other at the hospital were she works.

Monk is instantly awestruck—when he first sees Sharona he is speechless. Then as the realization dawns on him that she is truly back, Monk offers Sharona her old job as his assistant. Needless to say this doesn’t go over well with Natalie, and the rest of the novel unwinds to reveal not one murder, but three—and Monk is at his lovable best as he tries to figure out just who killed whom, and why, without getting dirty or into too many unpleasant germs.

Mr. Monk and the Two Assistants is a humorous whodunit. It is written in the voice of Natalie, who—in this novel especially—feels very much like Sherlock Holmes’ sidekick Dr. Watson, and it is great fun to watch her struggle through the twists and turns of the plot. She is often just as lost as the reader when confronted with the powerful deductive abilities of Adrian Monk, and the wonderfully outlandish murders he solves.

Mr. Goldberg does an admirable job of portraying the characters. The novel is at its best when the entire gang is on hand—Captain Stottlemeyer, Lieutenant Disher, Monk, Natalie, and Sharona. The dialogue is pitch perfect, and the atmosphere of the television series is captured very well, except, instead of a single episode it feels like a two-part extravaganza.

Mr. Monk and the Two Assistants isn’t the best of the Monk novels—that is a slot thoughtfully reserved for Mr. Monk and Blue Flu—but it is an enjoyable, relaxing, and very fun read with an ample amount of mystery and deduction. If you are in the mood for something light, quick and devilishly funny, give Mr. Monk and the Two Assistants a try. You won’t regret it.

An aside: Goldberg introduces a character named Ian Ludlow, who is in reality a nom de plume of none other than Lee Goldberg. In the mid-1980s Mr. Goldberg published three novels in a men’s adventure series under the name Ian Ludlow. The series: .357: Vigilante.

DIAGNOSIS MURDER: THE WAKING NIGHTMARE by Lee Goldberg

I made a great discovery last week. I couldn’t sleep much over a three-day period, and during my restless nights I picked up Lee Goldberg’s Diagnosis Murder: The Waking Nightmare. It was in a stack of books—my to-be-read pile—in my office, and each evening I read eighty or so pages before I could finally retire into the bliss of slumber. In short, I enjoyed The Waking Nightmare a whole lot. It kept my own waking nightmare—insomnia—from driving me absolutely mad. Heck, I even looked forward to reading it each night.

In The Waking Nightmare Dr. Mark Sloan, Chief of Internal Medicine at Community General Hospital, is confronted with three mysteries: 1) how does he keep a cancer patient from slowly killing herself; 2) how does he solve the suicidal problems of a young woman who attempted to jump to her own death, and; 3) who murdered a millionaire skydiver in mid-jump with a knife to his chest, and how was it done. The three mysteries take charge of Dr. Sloan’s life—he can’t sleep (a symptom I was able to relate with), or even live a functional life until he solves each mystery to his satisfaction.

The Waking Nightmare is everything I expect of a tie-in novel. It is familiar—the characters are correct, the setting is perfect and the storyline just right. But instead of a single episode, The Waking Nightmare is more like a Diagnosis Murder mini-series. The story is longer, and the characters are developed and explained much better. Mr. Goldberg also does an admirable job of capturing the always-present humor of the television series, and the comfortable, almost homey, atmosphere. The plotting is wonderful—he twists the plot and sub-plots into an entertaining web that kept me guessing until the final pages.

My only gripe with The Waking Nightmare is that the subplots—at times—overpowered the murder mystery. In fact, when Dr. Sloan solved the mystery of the jumping girl I figured that was it. The book was over, but then in a flash I realized the skydiving murder was not only unsolved, but wasn’t much closer to resolution then it had been at the beginning. Although it could be argued, and quite well, that the jumping girl is the main plot thread. It is certainly the most powerful and interesting of the three.

The Waking Nightmare proves, without a doubt, that Diagnosis Murder isn’t just for the elderly. But rather Lee Goldberg has written a series of novels that can be enjoyed by anyone who wants a fun, light and pleasant mystery. Mr. Goldberg continues to build a world that is both comfortable and invigorating--it is a mix of new and old in both theme and content, and it is very much a place I would like to return.

The Waking Nightmare is the fourth novel in the Diagnosis Murder series written by Lee Goldberg and based on the television series.

Zingers: First Lines with Grab

First lines. We have all picked an unknown novel off the shelves of a favorite bookstore, thumbed to the beginning and read the first line only to be dragged into the story with a compelling, frightening, or witty opening. Here are a few—three to be exact—opening lines that reached out and grabbed me. They act as the hook, and the author spends the rest of the novel reeling you in.

“Richler didn’t want to interview Reno, the coward, reprobate, and whiner, but newspaper correspondents don’t always have a choice.”

Richard Wheeler is known for compelling first lines, and his novel, An Obituary for Major Reno, opens with a zinger—it not only makes me want to read further, but it gets me curious just who Reno is, and why he is such an unlikable sonuvabitch.

“The corpse might as well have been in a minefield, surrounded by razor wire, and guarded by trigger-happy snipers. There was no way Adrian Monk would go near it.”

How can you stop reading Mr. Monk and the Blue Flu, with an opener like this? I dare you, try. And just why won’t Monk go near it? Gets you curious, doesn’t it.

“When the port wing began to flap I knew I was in trouble, not that I hadn’t been for some time.”

Jack Higgins—his older work at any rate—is one of my favorite writers. And this first line from The Last Place God Made is an example why. His work is dramatic, fun, and takes you places you have never before been. And damn if his opening lines don’t make you curious of what is happening, and why.

If any of you have read first lines you think are particularly defining, or sensational, or just damn good send them to me: My Email.

Mr. Monk and the Blue Flu by Lee Goldberg

I’m a snob. You may have noticed, or maybe not, but it’s true: I’m a snob. I have always had an attitude of superiority about tie-in novels. They couldn’t be any good. No, really. They have to be crap, because a real writer wouldn’t take characters created by someone else and write a quality story because if they, the writer, were any good they would be writing their own damn stories. Not something a publisher hired them to essentially ghost write, right?

Well, I was wrong. Dead wrong. I just finished reading Lee Goldberg’s Mr. Monk and the Blue Flu, and I enjoyed every minute. It is based on the USA Network’s television series Monk, and it captures the tone of the series, the rhythm, the dialogue, the humor, the flair, and the characters beautifully. It is an episode of Monk, only longer, more insightful and a helluva lot of fun.

The novel begins as any ordinary day for Monk: a murder scene complete with Captain Stottlemeyer, Lieutenant Disher and Natalie, but everything in Monk’s world is about to change. The city of San Francisco and the police department are in contract negotiations, and when they fail the police force is ravaged with a case of the blue flu.

That is, the police force generally, and the detectives particularly, call in sick as a protest against the failing negotiations. Monk is called back into active duty. He gets his badge back, and promoted to Captain over a rag-tag team of former detectives. They are scabs, but each of them wants to finish their careers with one more victory and a shot at dignity. The scary thing is, Monk is the sanest of the crew. There is an ancient detective suffering from dementia, a paranoid schizophrenic, and a Dirty Harry-type who has serious anger issues. Add a serial killer, a few seemingly random murders and Monk is in way over his head.

Mr. Monk and the Blue Flu is a triumph. Lee Goldberg has transformed great television into a wonderfully humorous and rewarding novel. No one does a whodunit like Monk, and Lee Goldberg captures everything I love about the television series. The mystery is solid and intriguing, the humor is top-notch, and the characters are perfect. If you enjoy a good laugh, an enjoyable mystery, or just a great read, Mr. Monk and the Blue Flu is your bag.

A Weekend of Books: John D., Ian MacAlister & .357 Vigilante

Oh boy. It's Monday evening, and I'm still smiling. This weekend I made an absolute haul at a thrift shop and a used bookstore. I found no less than two vintage John D. MacDonald novels--Dead Low Tide and The Brass Cupcake. The Brass Cupcake is a Gold Medal reprint (R2139)--the cover art has changed, for the worse, from the original (see right), while Dead Low Tide is one of those beautifully gaudy paperback editions put out by Fawcett Gold Medal in the 1970s. While I know little about Cupcake, I have heard that Dead Low Tide is a masterpiece. I can't wait to read it--them, I mean.

I also came away with Ian MacAlister's Valley of the Assassins. MacAlister is the pen name of Marvin Albert, Gold Medal writer, and all around great storyteller. He wrote four slam-bang adventure novels under the MacAlister name very reminiscent of the good, early work, of Alistair MacLean. Maybe even his pen name was influenced? To read a great article, written by Bill Crider, about Albert follow This Link to Mystery File.

The other two paperbacks I picked up are less exciting, but still--
The Executioner #26: Acapulco Rampage. I haven't read a Mack Bolan book since I was sixteen--okay, you caught me, 26--and I thougfht it was damn time I tried one again. I thought I would go back to the original though, the new stuff doesn't excite all that much.

And, .357: Vigilante by Ian Ludlow. This is the first of a series cut short (three books released) when the original Pinnacle Books went bankrupt. I've never tried one, but thought it might be time. It is the work of Lee Goldberg and Lewis Perdue. Goldberg's novel, The Man with the Iron-On Badge was selected as a finalist for an Edgar for best novel this year, and it deserved it. While Lewis Perdue is the scorned and angry author of The Da Vinci Legacy--he claims Dan Brown lifted ideas, plot points and research for his novel The Da Vinci Code. Frankly neither of the books are very good, and Lewis Perdue (his The Perfect Killer is much better) should just be thankful that Brown's success brought Legacy back into print.

Here is to all the little flea-ridden, dust enveloped shops around the world that still find space for a few old paperback books.