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…