Unkillable Charlie Hardie

9583670Hell And Gone by Duane Swierczynski
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I blame erotica. My natural response is to proceed with a whips and chains and between-the-pages sexual binge until this burning desire extricates itself from my system, and the world turns itself right-side up. What does that have to do with HELL AND GONE? Probably not a whole hell of a lot. But here we are you and I. With that being said, I cannot be held accountable for my actions during this review.

Fun And Games had Mann in all of her infinite glory, with her nipples sticking straight up in the air, sunbathing topless on a deck in the middle of LA. But Mann has been relegated to cameo status in the sequel, and I couldn’t help the heartfelt sigh that escaped my lips. Now we have Eve Bell who can maintain the lotus position for hours on end, and I’m intrigued all over again. Her shower scene certainly captured my attention. I’ll say it right now: I have no shame.

Unkillable Charlie Hardie once again was forced to question his very sanity, spending his days in an inescapable prison with a team of guards and prisoners that proved to be some of the baddest dudes and dudettes around. The adrenaline rush proceeded at an IV pace (my finger pushing the magic button every three minutes or so), and I couldn’t avoid the post-nasal drip, the chlorine beach, the white tile, the blue scrubs, or the shower curtain divider that separated me from the guy on the respirator.

The other characters, while interesting and intriguing, didn’t capture my attention the way the secondary cast of characters popped into my brain and executed the mambo in the first installment. The action scenes, while intense and electrified, held back a bit compared to the first go round and the insanity that is LA. But don’t get me wrong, this was one hell of a ride, and I’ll be seeking out the explosive finale with equal parts enthusiasm and trepidation. I may need to sleep with the lights on, and my head buried underneath the covers, but it’ll all be worth it in the end. That’s what I’ll keep telling myself anyway, repeating the mantra until it’s permanently etched in my brain.

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