Challenge Accepted

Posted on June 23, 2014 by Robert Downs

Being Me by Lisa Renee Jones
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I could say Sara McMillan is as sexy as sin, but then I’d have resorted to a cliché, and I try to avoid them as much as possible in my line of work. But she could make a man drop his drawers, even without the inclusion of alcohol on said occasion. She does have a strong will to go with her soft body and succulent curves, but I’m probably getting a tad ahead of myself.

I’d like to tell you that this particular series hasn’t grabbed ahold of my wrist and yanked me into the midst of it, as I wade my way through the highs and lows of love gone awry, and a particular passion that seems more than just reserved for special occasions. But I’d have to call myself a liar, and I prefer to stick to the truth, and nothing but the truth.

Sure, BEING ME might have been filled with a cliché or two, and I can’t help but admit I was frustrated more than once as I waded my way through the saltwater with my head held high as the waves slapped at my thighs. But it was also filled with some decent writing, and more than one sex scene that hung me out to dry and left me hot and bothered and squirming in my seat. And the characters seemed to have a bit more flesh on their bones than the occasional skeleton in the closet that may or may not have appeared on the scene of the crime.

And it’s also entirely possible this story could have gone more than just a bit astray in the wrong set of hands with the wrong amount of passion at the forefront—and that particular series shall remain nameless here, as I know you can fill in the blank. But that wasn’t the case here. Michael appeared, and then Michael was quickly discarded, along with a father who was more absent than he was present for the party, but instead of turning this particular tale into Swiss cheese, it managed to add an additional layer or two.

So, yeah, this story (and series) more than captured my attention, and Chris Merit showed he could offer up more than just a flavor of the month, while Mark Compton might have had more than just a few screws loose in his closet. *BEGIN SPOILER* And Ava (not to be confused with Gardner) did find herself just a step removed from the insane asylum with her mode of transportation on red alert and the local authorities on standby. *END SPOILER* But it was all a part of the song and dance, and I was more than happy to listen to the band.

While some erotica series start to run out of gas around the end of the second novel, this doesn’t appear to be the case here. So, yeah, I’ll stick around for the third book, and possibly even the ones beyond it, and hope I’m proved right. But there’s also the chance I could be proved wrong. Still, there’s only one way to find out, and I do believe I’m up for the challenge. So as Barney Stinson would say, “Challenge accepted.”

Tough Bananas And Crackers

Posted on June 22, 2014 by Robert Downs

Under A Silent Moon by Elizabeth Haynes
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

So I have to tell a personal story, and if you don’t like it, that’s just tough bananas and crackers. Sometimes it pays to wander around aimlessly in the middle of a mystery conference. You never know what wonderful solutions you might stumble upon. In this particular instance, I happened upon Elizabeth Haynes, and her newest novel UNDER A SILENT MOON. Of course, I had to bypass a slightly impaired individual first, who when I asked her, “What’s everybody in line for?” She promptly and without the slightest hint of a smirk or a smile responded, “A book signing.” Thank you, Captain Obvious. Here would have been the perfect opportunity to offer up any number of wisecracks, all of which slipped right on by me in my semi-agitated state.

But I walked around, burned off a bit of steam, and discovered a treasure trove when I made it all the way to the front of the line. I received one signed ARC courtesy of Elizabeth Haynes and one signed hardcover courtesy of Alafair Burke, so yeah, I’d say it was worth the trouble. I also conveyed to Ms. Haynes how much I enjoyed INTO THE DARKEST CORNER, and I didn’t even need to fib. That alone probably could have put Albany on the map for me, but there are other stories to tell. None of which have anything remotely to do with this novel, so I’ll save them for another round on the merry-go-round.

Unfortunately, though, my complete intoxication made her newest novel just an okay read for me. Sure, it was a police procedural; sure, Louisa Smith (or Lou for short) has a soft voice, a sweet body, and a good head above her breastbone; sure, there was more than one body deader than a skunk on the side of the road; sure, the pace moved along in a rather efficient manner once I dipped a bit more than my toes in the water; sure, there was more than one bout of suffocation sexcapades that really set my imagination afire; and sure, the women and men were all equal parts intriguing and mind-boggling. And there might have even been a free love department marathon, not that yours truly was complaining.

But this novel didn’t make my toes curl, the way her debut novel did. I mean that was some serious shit, and this was merely minor shit. And I know I shouldn’t compare the two novels, and I know Ms. Haynes can write circles around plenty of writers and still have a few more spins left in the tank, and I know I probably would have enjoyed this novel had I not read her debut novel, but I can’t erase the image of that particular masterpiece from the equation, since it touched me on some deeper level, and nearly caused me to forget who I was for about six hours. While this tale just was strictly a wee bit of entertainment.

Oh, and I’d be a bit remiss, if I didn’t mention the situation near the end of this story, so cover your eyes and ears, if you’d prefer not to see how your eggs are cooked. *BEGIN SPOILER* (view spoiler)Suzanne Martin was a perfectly excellent villain, and might have been a bit too smart for her own good. But, seriously, you’re going to spout off the entire story of how you killed Polly Leuchars to Andrew Hamilton. I don’t care if he’s a fuckwit of an investigator, and you’re going to turn around and drug his ass later, and even if he was a rather entertaining shag for a few hours. *END SPOILER*

Otherwise, I’d say we’re doing just fine here. Just not fine enough for my heightened expectations.

I received this ARC for free at Bouchercon.

Swift Kick To The Crotch

Posted on June 21, 2014 by Robert Downs

Delirium by Lauren Oliver
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

I feel rather low in my current state of mind as I simply try to pass the time. Without it being said, I have this feeling of dread that I somehow showed up at the wrong address, received a swift kick to the crotch, and then someone stole my watch. Writing this review and offering up a few lines without the promise of a single dime might just be the only way to make my spirit chime. If I can provide a few rhymes, maybe it will afford me a comfort of sorts or at least I can purport the significance of the situation before it leads to my own constipation of words, as the well runs dry, and I bat an eye at the pages I’ve left behind.

While I hoped to involve myself in this story of sorts caught in the ever promising world of Maine that Stephen King managed to indulge with more than a bit of fame, I fell flat on my face, and scraped my brace on the asphalt before me, as my hope dwindled to bits on a sea of shit. When I closed my eyes I saw the prize of Magdalena Morgan Jones swift to rise above the clouds and offer up a second wind, even if I wasn’t particularly interested in what she had to offer. Sure, she could tempt me with her charms and offer up a song and dance and possibly even a little romance, but I’d make a swift dash in the other direction.

Alex showed a bit of promise before it quickly dwindled to bits, and he turned into somewhat of a twit who made a rather stupendous sacrifice, even if he didn’t have a major vice that I could ascertain with my butane lighter. No other character really stood out for me in this ultimate and tragic dichotomy. Sure, it’s easy to argue my view has been tainted, and that I’m currently out of the market for sainthood, but I’ll say it again to you, my friend, that I think the story could have been shorter. A good editor in a current state of DELIRIUM could have hacked away and chosen to play with a number of fewer words.

And as I search for the Cure you’ll forgive me I’m sure if I decide not to continue on with this series. For while the masses may have come I don’t think I’m the one this particular tale was intended for. Now it’s off to my bed—or maybe off with my head. But either way, I’m proud to say that I continued this rhyme in spirit or in practice even if I did manage to make an ass of myself before I pulled the plug on the whole enchilada.

On The Back Of A Pickup Truck

Posted on June 19, 2014 by Robert Downs

Above by Isla Morley
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

I think it’s safe to say at this point in my life I was not the intended audience for this book. I wanted to show up for the party, and I had every intention of dancing with a pretty lass until the world ended, and I met my maker on the back of a pickup truck. But, alas, it twas not to be. The door was slammed in my face, and I was unable to march through the threshold. Or maybe I was at the bottom of a pit while the laughing hyena on top smiled and grinned at me.

Blythe Hallowell didn’t really work for me as a character, and as the leader of this charade, I felt more than a little cheated and dismayed. Sure, she’s lived a sheltered life, kept against her will, and has a son named Adam who is her pride and joy. But she seemed to travel back in time in both spirit and vocabulary, instead of dealing with the present apocalypse at hand. The plot seemed more than a little out of place within the ABOVE pages, and my mind raced a little too hard to fill in a few of the story gaps. Or maybe that was just my memory lapse.

Dobbs didn’t really have a decent bone in his body, and I like to see a bit more from my villains. He was more one-dimensional enemy than a man who got lost somewhere within the confines of this life or the next. And he had plenty of time to build up a little rapport with the heroine of this tale, but he failed on multiple levels.

The big escape left me grasping for more, even if my wishes were going to remain unfulfilled. And a life such as this could have used a little more bliss, even if the world was ready to end. And the big reveal at the end of this tale left me shaking my head, as I turned in for bed. I slipped away hoping to come back again someday, only to have my world filled with a shimmering array of darkness.

Maybe, though, I just need to blame myself for not getting it and call it a day, because while I like to think I have a grand master plan if the world were to come to an end tomorrow. I don’t. I’d probably just pack up my ship and sail out to sea and hope that a monster with a few extra tentacles somehow doesn’t find me.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

A Peeping Tom

Posted on June 15, 2014 by Robert Downs

Hot Ticket (Sinners on Tour, #3) by Olivia Cunning
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

Whenever I read an Olivia Cunning novel, I feel like a Peeping Tom. I see, taste, touch, smell, and hear on a whole nother level. Sensory overload feels like a flippin’ understatement. I could speculate on where she comes up with her material, but I’d be similar to an accountant pulling numbers out of his ass. What I do know is that I often feel as though I’m about to do something illegal, and before the day is out, I’m liable to get caught. So when I’m staring down the barrel of a gun at the two individuals who just walked through my front door, I’ll hope and pray that they are wearing five inch stilettos, corsets, black lace thongs, and that they’re packing bullwhips on their luscious hips, instead of Tasers. As long as that’s the case, the blue uniforms and dark sunglasses will work out just fine.

I’ll admit I have the second book in my hip pocket, but what intrigued me more was a stripper/dominatrix named Mistress V who wears red leather boots in her pleasure room, and has enough curves to stop a semi at sixty miles an hour on a rain slick highway. I mean…damn. No, it’s more like double damn. And what had me really cheering from the nosebleeds was her convincing turn on the merry go round and humanizing V to the point that I nearly stood up and cheered, even if I was the only one around.

Yes, you can laugh at me all you want, and I might even deserve it, but all I saw were glorious curves and bending and twisting and bodies intertwining…and you can probably fill in a few of the blanks. I could practically feel the sexual excitement through my Kindle. I know it sounds crazy, and possibly even ridiculous, but if erotica has you racing to the bedroom faster than a thoroughbred, you’ll want to hop on this horse and ride it all the way to the ground. Guys, you need to grab this for your lady friend. Trust me, you’ll thank me later. In fact, you’ll be sending me Christmas cards for the next fifty years.

Sure, the dialogue may sometimes resemble partially hydrogenated cheeseballs; the rock stars and female sidebars may take a few of the more blatant stereotypes to heart; the plot might be as predictable as a one-way flight to Houston; and the subplots may not always be fleshed out in the same manner as Mistress V aka Aggie. But this is one train where you can thoroughly enjoy the ride. Just make sure you close the door to your sleep car.

Your Latest Life Lesson

Posted on June 14, 2014 by Robert Downs

Pest Control by Bill Fitzhugh
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

If you’re here for your latest life lesson, it’s this: Don’t ever answer an exterminator ad. You might find your life terminated, after the CIA takes a hit out on your ass. Sure, the money sounds good and all, but fifty grand ain’t what it used to be. And if I have a choice between life and death, I think I’ll go with life, Bob.

PEST CONTROL finds us in the midst of a painful existence of one Bob Dillon (not to be confused with the Bob Dylan) who has some trouble with bugs after he shoves a garden hose up his boss’s nose. Yes, the man has anger management issues, and he’s probably breathed in his share of toxic fumes (which doesn’t really help his cause). What he lacks in employment, though, he more than makes up for in spirit. Or you could just call it gusto. He hops up on desks and shouts to the heavens and breeds beetles in his spare room and deals with one pissed off landlord on a semi-regular basis.

If that isn’t bad enough, he also has a hit man named Klaus (not to be confused with Santa) breathing down his neck. There’s also a little person who has a penchant for pink panties, which wouldn’t be so bad except the she is a he; a hit woman (after all we’re equal opportunity employers here) with a fondness for shoving white truffles down the gullet of her latest victim; a cowboy with his own rodeo and a fondness for killing; and other nefarious individuals who shall not be named.

If you’re looking for the straight and narrow, you won’t find it here. What you will find are enough strange individuals to fill an entire city block, an over-the-top plot that at times had trouble maintaining believability, dialogue that shuddered, a narrative that might have had a loophole or two in logic and a bit of a jump in time, and pages plastered with dead insects in every possible manner known to the pest community.

If you can believe it, this was even musical material. While I’m not sure I understand that particular angle, I did find myself amused at what took place over the course of this tale. If you have a penchant for half-baked tales that could have been composed on the back of a napkin after you (and possibly the author) surrounded yourselves in a smoke-filled haze, then this story’s for you. Just make sure you wash your hands first and then possibly after.

Hugs And Kisses And Machine Guns

Posted on June 12, 2014 by Robert Downs

Bad Things Happen by Harry Dolan
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

While it did take me one month to finish this book, I wouldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. Yes, I just executed a double negative (the double dribble of the writing world) for those of you who only approve of appropriate grammatical choices. But I wanted to prove and emphasize a point. And my point is that I really did enjoy BAD THINGS HAPPEN. I was appropriately amused and entertained, as I filled my life with hugs and kisses and machine guns.

David Loogan can juggle more than just oranges, and he has more than a few tales from a previous life. Some of which we learn, and some of which Harry Dolan probably holds back. Because why should you give up all the goods on the first date, or in this case a debut novel. You may flash your six pack at the woman across the bar, or maybe it’s just a smile and wink, but you don’t know how many other fellas she’s been with. And frankly you don’t need that kind of trouble with a crazy ex-boyfriend who pounds pills like he pounds heads.

With temptations around every corner, it’s better to start running now. Sure, the blonde looks like a winner, but she might also whack you in the head with a shovel while you sleep. Or the detective may show you a nice pair of handcuffs, but you have more than a few reservations about being held against your will.

The dialogue proved both realistic and entertaining; the story (once I really got into it) clicked along faster than a cowboy with an itchy trigger finger; the women and men had as much potential as they had flaws; and David Loogan, along with Elizabeth Waishkey, proved interesting enough that I hope they both stick around for a while. Oh, and the writing and editing tidbits weren’t lost on me. I sucked those up faster than honey from a spoon. Otherwise, it was just another story (shrugs), but a really good and entertaining one.

GPS In Your Hip Pocket

Posted on June 12, 2014 by Robert Downs

My Heart Is An Idiot: Essays by Davy Rothbart
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

If you want a handful of life lessons (sixteen in fact) on how to fuck up more than a few relationships with a road map and GPS satellite in your hip pocket to comfort you on your dark days, then MY HEART IS AN IDIOT could provide you better comfort than a blanket, a glass of warm milk, and your favorite movie on the tube. Whether you’re a cynic by nature or even if you’re holding out for the storybook fairytale or maybe a hero that goes by another name, you could find yourself mixing equal parts amusement and sadness and then flipping the switch to high. What comes out on the other side could leave you more than a little horrified, like the latest train wreck plastered across the news, but you can also comfort yourself in knowing that you weren’t on this particular train when it exited the station.

“Bigger and Deafer” – When it comes to making fun of people with disabilities, the appropriate response is no. Always no. But then I like to think I have more than two cents to rub together.

“Human Snowball” – If you want to read about a bus ride and a botched encounter with Lauren Hill (not the Lauryn Hill), then you’ll probably want to give this story a go. On a side note, Vernon adds a bit of comedic relief.

“What Are You Wearing?” – If you want a checklist in how not to conduct phone sex, and when to probably pass on picking up the motel phone, you’ll find your answers here. If you’re still confused when you reach the end, you might want to start from the beginning all over again.

“The 8th of November” – How Jim Thompson, arguably the best Ford mechanic in the Beltway, developed a friendship with the author with the idiot heart.

“Ninety-Nine Bottles of Pee on the Wall” – Meeting an author can be a pleasurable experience (most of the time) unless you’re Davy Rothbart and you carry around a few bottles of pee in your backpack. Which leads to a whole new set of problems and more than a few therapy sessions.

“How I Got These Boots” – A pair of boots, the Grand Canyon, and more than a few memories. What more could you ask for?

“Shade” – Sometimes you need to do a bit of searching to find a shady spot in New Mexico, and the author certainly had more than a bit of trouble with this as well. If it wasn’t for bad luck, a missed opportunity with Maggie, and a fruitless search for the mysterious Shade—the person, not the spot allotted tree cover—this one might have had a positive outcome. Sadly, though, he’s striking out more often than a power hitter with a swing flaw.

“Nibble, Lick, Suck, and Feast” – If you want to discover a bit of hilarity on an author tour, this story’s for you. If not, then we’ll move right along.

“Canada or Bust” – Missy, another female name that begins with M, and thus we have yet another missed opportunity in the love quest. If you need to improve the dating pool, there’s always San Francisco.

“Naked in New York” – How does one end up naked on a park bench? Apparently it’s not all that hard to do, and certainly not in “The Big Apple.” Read this tale for a few pointers.

“Tarantula” – Don’t have sex anywhere near a tarantula. Even if it’s in a glass cage and it’s far away from the bed. I don’t care how good she looks (the woman, not the tarantula), or whether or not she kidnaps you and tosses you in the back of the trunk, and promises to rock your world for the next sixteen days. Just…don’t. You’ll thank me later.

“Southwest” – Davy Rothbart may be blessed when it comes to sitting next to beautiful women on airplanes, but he probably needs a bit of help with his delivery and follow through. But that seems to repeat a bit too regularly over the course of these essays.

“New York, New York” – Maggie Smith knows how to strike a pose; the Twin Towers ended up in a pile of rubble; a few interviews got off to a glitch filled start; the bus ride proved longer than planned; and never say no to a woman named Laquisha.

“Tessa” – Drexel University and beer pong sound reasonably appealing, until Tessa proves a little free with her favors with another man, and you’re left shedding a few tears in your beer. There’s no crying in baseball, but I guess there is in beer pong.

“The Strongest Man in the World” – Peter, Byron, Evelyn, and Davy sitting in a tree, recounting a few stories, or maybe it’s three. Tell a few tales, but don’t pass the buck. If you’re not too careful, you might be out of luck.

“Ain’t That America?” – The moral of this story: You can strike out in love on more than one continent. Just keep that in mind the next time you’re moaning and groaning in your cup of tea.

So, in summary, there’s much to enjoy here. If you’re the kind of Joe who likes to watch a train derailment or two, or you’re one of those rubberneckers on the interstate trying to see the extent of the damage, you’ve just discovered your new source of enjoyment for the day. Just be thankful it’s not your life, and hope to hell you have a bit more luck in the relationship arena, otherwise you might want a Prozac or a Xanax.

One Fine Piece Of Detective Fiction

Posted on June 11, 2014 by Robert Downs

A Drop of the Hard Stuff by Lawrence Block
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

Hi, my name is Robert Downs, and I’m a member of Lawrence Block Anonymous (LBA for short). I can see why he was named a Grand Master by the Mystery Writers of America in 1994. He has the damaged, hard-boiled detective figured out as well as anyone else I’ve ever read, and his prose flows better than eggnog at Christmastime. And it’s easy to keep on guzzling the way his famous PI Matthew Scudder used to swig the hard stuff. A DROP OF THE HARD STUFF indeed. Well, more than, but it’s easy to get carried away when it’s just so darn good.

If it wasn’t for Amazon’s Kindle Daily Deals, I might have waited a bit longer before I delved into Matthew Scudder’s universe, and that would have been a serious travesty, especially considering my love of hard-boiled novels knows no bounds. I’d travel just about anywhere with a hard-boiled gumshoe at my side.

I’d have to agree with the critics that this is one fine piece of detective fiction, even though it would have been easy for Mr. Block to let his guard down and go for the low blow. Matthew Scudder felt as real to me as if he was standing right beside me, telling me his story over a cup of joe with a determined look and a never-back-down attitude.

The ending could have been a bit better, but it worked out just fine for the story, and it wasn’t out of character for Mr. Scudder. And this proves to be a bit of a minor detail in an otherwise gut wrenching story written with near pitch perfect lyrical prose.

I must say this is one fine hard-boiled read, and if you’re into the hard stuff, it’s certainly worthy of a bit more attention.

Shotgun Weddings

Posted on June 6, 2014 by Robert Downs

Shotgun Lovesongs by Nickolas Butler
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

Secrets in small towns spread like tumbleweed in Albuquerque, New Mexico. That is to say a secret lasts about as long as a change in wind direction, or a flying ball sailing across a major highway in the middle of rush hour traffic. SHOTGUN LOVESONGS brings up many of the negative points about small town life, and therefore it won’t be at the top of my Christmas list anytime this century. The third person multiple perspective nature of this tale peppered with the occasional flashback left me with a head scratch or two for my trouble, but I was in charge of my fate as I continued onward. Perseverance pushed me toward the finish line, not the writing or the story itself. Each perspective proved mostly unique, but I did feel as though it was all a bit convoluted.

Lee and Kip and Chloe represented a trio of selfish bastards and bastardettes. With more than a secret or two between them, I wanted to offer up a tongue lashing, but it might have fallen on a group more focused on a Droid phone clutched between delicate fingers, or lost in a previous reverie. With my thoughts scattered and my hopes shattered, I had really hoped a few more lives might turn out better, instead of shotgun weddings and battered relationships and subsequent divorces.

The story sounded better in the synopsis, or maybe I had higher hopes, or the bleakness of the tale shattered my optimistic dreams. Whatever the reason, I found myself more put off than satisfied, and that included the mostly unrealistic ending. If this story was supposed to represent life, it wasn’t a life I was particularly interested in living.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.