Fletch Won (Audiobook) by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller: A Real Mixed Bag

Fletch Won (Audiobook)Fletch Won

by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller (Narrator)

Series: Fletch, #8 (#1 Chronologically)
Unabridged Audiobook, 6 hrs., 30 min.
Blackstone Audio, 2018

Read: June 20 – 26, 2019

This is chronologically the first Fletch novel, he’s a rookie reporter, who’s been bounced around from headline writer, to obituaries, to wedding announcements, and is finally sent to the Society pages—with a warning. Fit in, and don’t make any trouble or he’ll be unemployed. His first assignment is to meet with an attorney, Donald Habeck, in the publisher’s office to discuss a major donation he’ll be making to a local museum and do a puff piece about it. Fletch objects, wanting to do real news—the kind of stuff he’ll later be known for. His editor (Frank Jaffe, a name known to those who’ve read Fletch and Fletch and the Widow Bradley) refuses, insisting that this is his assignment—and maybe later he’ll get a chance to do something else.

There’s a catch—Habeck is murdered in the newspaper’s parking lot on his way to this meeting. Fletch jumps on the opportunity to report on this, but the senior crime reporter shoos him off (and Jaffe). Fletch tries to exercise squatter’s rights, but no one is having any of it. Naturally, this means that Fletch will ignore this and will investigate the murder on his own—and typically is a few steps ahead of both the police and the senior crime writer.

In the meantime, he has to do his actual job (at least until he has something he can print). There’s another story they want Fletch to work on, there’s a local “escort service” parading itself as a fitness establishment—Jaffe insists that Fletch do an expose about them. To stay employed, Fletch agrees—but threatens the most detailed and explicit expense report ever. This isn’t a story that appeals to Fletch—I don’t think he cares too much if this service is just close to prostitution, or if it’s the actual thing—and he has better things to do with his time. Also, he’s about to get married, the last thing his fiancé is going to want is him hanging around a brothel all day.

The opening chapter is a hoot. As are several of the encounters Fletch has with the members of Donald Habeck’s family (particularly his wife)—and Alston Chambers never fails to be amusing. The escort service story is fun, and ends up being the kind of thing that Fletch can write about—but its main purpose is to give Mcdonald an opportunity to opine on our cultural obsession with beauty, health, and so on, while causing problems for Fletch’s personal life. There’s not a lot of meat to this story, but there’s a lot of fun. On the other hand, the murder investigation is great and vintage Fletch. It’s the best part of the book (as a mystery novel, I guess it should be, right?)

All in all, a decent Fletch novel—full of interesting characters, a nice twist, Fletch bucking all sorts of authority (police, veteran reporters, Frank Jaffee), and more than a few amusing situations. It works as an origin story, how did he become the sort of reporter we know, etc. As I mentioned earlier, we even see young Alston Chambers — just starting as an associate in a powerful law firm. But—and this is a big but— this places Fletch at the newspaper we know he ends his newspaper career with as a rookie, as a man about to be married (for the first time). We know there’s not a lot of time between the end of his first marriage and Fletch, but there’s some. Enough for a second marriage and the Window Bradley events, but not much more. What there isn’t time for is the past referred to in Confess, Fletch, Fletch’s Fortune and even hinted at in The Man Who — and the first two of those depend on Fletch’s history to work. Unless we’re to believe that his wives let him leave the state, work in a variety of other papers, developing a Fletchian reputation, move back to the same paper he started his career in (with the same senior editor), and then hit him up for alimony and still be carrying a torch for him. It stretches credulity a bit too much for me to stomach. The next book, Fletch, Too, doesn’t help things.

Does that ruin Fletch Won for me? Not totally, but that alone keeps it out of my personal top-tier Fletch novels and rank it slightly above The Widow Bradley (only for the chuckles it gives me). Clearly, McDonald isn’t as picky about this sort of thing as many of his readers are, but man, that rankles. Still, it’s fun, it features entertaining characters— some odd poetry—and enough Fletchisms to keep you happy. It’s a good time, and if you ignore what it suggests about the rest of the series, you should have a good time.

—–

3.5 Stars
2019 Cloak & Dagger Challenge

Advertisements

Carioca Fletch (Audiobook) by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller: A Bad Fletch Book — whodathunkit

Carioca FletchCarioca Fletch

by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller (Narrator)
Series: Fletch, #7 (#5 Chronologically)
Unabridged Audiobook, 6 hrs., 3 min.
Blackstone Audio, 2018
Read: May 21 – 25, 2019

Just in case people were thinking I’d drunk too heavily in the Fletch/Gregory Mcdonald Kool-Aid bowl, this should alleviate any concern. I just don’t like this book.

Following the events of Fletch, our now-jobless journalist is enjoying life in Brazil, he’s got a girlfriend, is making some investments and friends and is about to enjoy Carnaval. Quite by accident, he runs into the newly-widowed Joan Allen Stanwyk, and things get a little awkward for a bit. But before he can follow up with her, an elderly Brazilian woman claims that he’s the reincarnation of her murdered husband, come back to identify his murderer.

This distracts Fletch greatly and between that, and a new group of acquaintances who seem to be rich young men who devote all their time to wine and women, Fletch can’t deal with Joan. He first has to spend some time trying to deal with the problems of their debauchery, this supernatural claim and learning about the Brazilian culture in general.

This might, might, be an okay book if it was about any other American hiding in Brazil, learning about the culture and people. But it’s not a Fletch book. He doesn’t solve the mystery by being clever or interviewing anyone. It’s not a particularly funny book, either. It’s mostly Fletch bouncing from situation to situation with little control or agency for a couple of hundred pages, and then solving a decades-old mystery by a cheap stunt.

What redeems this book is the Joan Allen Stanwyk material that bookends it. Those are the only chapters that really feel like Fletch (and, they’re grounded in the rest of the series). Also, Fletch’s background in, interest in, and history of investing in art is shown here in embryo—as well as the other things he does to pay for his villa, GCN stock, racehorses, and so on. So that’s good, but we didn’t need to see it, the character was good enough without that.

Naturally, Dan John Miller had nothing to do with any of my problems, he does a great job as usual.

This was just a misfire for Mcdonald (not the only one in the series), and is easily forgotten—and should be.

—–

2 1/2 Stars
2019 Cloak & Dagger Challenge

The Bitterest Pill by Reed Farrel Coleman: Paradise, MA comes face to face with the Opioid Epidemic

The Bitterest PillRobert B. Parker’s The Bitterest Pill

by Reed Farrel Coleman
Series: Jesse Stone, #18
eARC, 368 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2019

Read: July 31 – August 3, 2019

Well, it’s pretty clear that Don Winslow has left his mark on Reed Farrel Coleman—there’s a quotation from Winslow on the so-called War on Drugs as the epigraph to this novel. Jesse cites it and alludes to it later in the novel. It’s a good line—catchy and insightful (and, not that it matters, I agree 100% with it)—don’t misunderstand me, but I’m used to Robert B. Parker characters citing Shakespeare, (Edmund) Spenser, Shelley, and songs from the late 60s/70s. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one quote someone contemporary. The latest focus of most of our country in that War is the Opioid Crisis, in The Bitterest Pill, that epidemic shows up in Paradise, Massachusettes—partially fulfilling Vinnie Morris’ prediction to Jesse that Boston crime was on its way to Paradise.

A student at Paradise High—the daughter of a city councilman—dies of an overdose and the city is rocked. It can’t be the first drug-related death in its history, but this was a different kind of thing. She’s not an obvious user, cheerleader, from a well-to-do family, and so on. Not the kind of person that Paradise is ready to believe would be an addict or that would die of an O.D.

What’s obvious to Jesse and his team is that if they don’t shut down the supply chain that fed this girl her drugs, she won’t be the only death, she’ll just be the first. This sets Jesse on a Hunt through Paradise High School and Boston’s underbelly. There’s a moment that made me think of Connelly’s Two Kinds of Truth (which just means that Connelly and Coleman have both done their research into the ways prescription drug rings work, not that Coleman’s copying anything)—but there’s a difference. Bosch is trying to deal with a situation, he’s involved in busting a ring as a means to an end. Jesse? He’s trying to protect his town it’s personal—and the ways that this particular ring is trying to invade Paradise are more diverse than what Bosch dealt with.

Skip this next paragraph if you’re worried about Colorblind spoilers.
I avoided talking about the new character Cole last time out, because, how could I? I’m on the fence with him, honestly. I don’t see where he was necessary—Jesse has Suit to father (although, at this stage, Luther doesn’t need much), he’s got the weight of the city on his shoulders, what’s added to the character by this relation? On the other hand, scenes with him are done so well, and Jesse’s different with him. I really enjoy him—he’s not the Paradise equivalent of Paul Giacomin, thankfully (nothing against Paul, we just don’t need another one), he’s a different kind of character (as Jesse was compared to Spenser and Sunny).

Speaking of Suitcase, I think I’ve loved everything Coleman’s done with him (every major thing, anyway, there might have been a scene or two that I forgot about), other than not using him as often as he could. But there’s a scene with Suit and Cole in this book that is so well done that it’s one of those passages I could read from time to time just to smile at. He’s come a long way. Molly seemed a little under-used, but she was good whenever she showed up and did get to shine a bit. I think Coleman overplayed the difficulty of Molly doing her job because of the way this case impacted Paradise’s children a bit (really not much), and, as always, he’s too dependent on bringing up the incident with Crow in relation to Molly. But on the whole, Suit, Molly and the rest of Paradise PD came off pretty well.

For awhile under Coleman and Ace Atkins, Vinnie Morris seemed more dangerous, more of a wild card—less “tamed.” But both the way that Atkins has used him the last time or two and here he seems to be tacking back to a friendly criminal who’s too willing to help out the non-criminal element. Frankly, I prefer the less-tame version, but as someone who’s enjoyed Vinnie since he worked for Joe Broz ages ago, I don’t care, I just like seeing him on the page.

After the very effective use of the mayor recently, I was surprised at her absence in this novel—not that there was room for anything like that.

There’s really one more supporting character that we should talk about—Alcohol. Jesse’s greatest foe (although, you could argue he’s the enemy and alcohol is the tool he uses to attack himself, but…eh, let’s make this easy and say alcohol). He may be clean and sober, but he’s still an addict, and his drug of choice is still a near-constant presence in his life. I love, respect and admire the way that Jesse (and Coleman) have dealt with this subject, particularly since Jesse stopped drinking. It’s so much more believable (and healthy) than Jesse’s attempts to manage his drinking before. I liked the approach in Colorblind, and continuing it in The Bitterest Pill made it stronger.

So, we’ve got Jesse battling personal demons (but with a clearer head), adjusting to a new personal reality, and dealing with a potentially crushing crime wave that’s leaving a trail of destruction through the youth of Paradise. Throw in the instability of a new romantic relationship? Jesse’s in a pretty healthy place, but given the pressures (and a couple I didn’t list)—it’s gotta be weighing on him, and Coleman does a pretty good job of balancing the health and precarious nature of Jesse’s state of mind.

As Coleman’s writing, it seemed frequently that he was trying too hard to make this something the level of Colorblind or Debt to Pay, and didn’t quite make it. Maybe because he was trying so hard? The topic he’s dealing with is important, so it’s understandable he’s taking big swings to hit this out of the park. But there are a few sentences that no one but Reed Farrel Coleman could have written. They were gorgeous and practically sang. I don’t want to sound like one of those anti-genre literary snobs, but Coleman comes close to transcending the genre and its easy to see the impact his poetry frequently has on his prose.

At the same time, he’s an effective mystery writer—there are red herrings all over the place for readers to get distracted with. As far as the main conduit for drugs into the school goes, I had a candidate I was sure of and a back-up, and another one, too. I couldn’t have been more wrong and had dismissed the actual perpetrator without much thought at all. While ratcheting up the tension, keeping me locked into the story, he pulls the wool over my eyes and manages a few lines that are practically lyrical. There are few in the genre who can match that.

The ending of this novel came as a little bit of a gut punch. Granted, there was a sense in which the last couple of pages couldn’t have gone any other way—I’ll leave the specifics out of it, but the last few paragraphs were hard to read. But they were so, so good. They might be the most effective few paragraphs in the book. I don’t think it’s much of a spoiler to say that just when you think the story’s done, it’s not.

Rumor has it that this is Coleman’s last Jesse Stone book—I hope it’s not true, but it’d make sense as he’s switching publishers. As I said when his first entry in this series came out, his was the best Jesse Stone since Parker’s early days with the series. Yes, he didn’t do things the way Parker would have (especially later), but what he did was honest and genuine to the spirit of the characters and series that Parker left. Stone has a complexity that Spenser lost in the mid-80s, and Coleman recaptured that. The Bitterest Pill might not have been Coleman’s Stone at his best, but I think that’s largely because he was trying too hard to say something about the societal impact of the drugs (whereas in Colorblind it seemed effortless). And, while it wasn’t as good as it wanted to be, it was very, very good, and will go down as one of the higher points of the series.

The Bitterest Pill would be a good place to meet Jesse Stone and the rest of the Paradise Police Department, and it’s a great way for long-time fans/readers to touch base with them. I strongly recommend this.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Putnam Books via NetGalley in exchange for this post—I thank both groups for this.

—–

4 Stars

2019 Cloak & Dagger Challenge

Fletch and the Man Who (Audiobook) by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller: Mcdonald and Fletch at their Best

Fletch and the Man WhoFletch and the Man Who

by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller (Narrator)
Series: Fletch, #6 (#8 Chronologically)Unabridged Audiobook, 6 hrs., 14 min.
Blackstone Audio, 2018
Read: May 14 – 18, 2019

“Good morning,” Fletch said. “As the governor’s press representative, I make you the solemn promise that I will never lie to you. Today, on this bus, we will be passing through Miami, New Orleans, Dallas, New York, and Keokuk, Iowa. Per usual, at midday you will be flown to San Francisco for lunch. Today’s menu is clam chowder, pheasant under glass, roast Chilean lamb, and a strawberry mousse from Maine. Everything the governor says today will be significant, relevant, wise, to the point, and as fresh as the lilies in the field.” …

“Is it true you saved Walsh Wheeler’s life overseas?” Fenella Baker asked.

“That’s another thing,” Fletch said. “I will never evade any of your questions.” He turned the microphone off and hung it up.

I think this is my favorite Fletch novel (that spot may actually bounce between this and Fletch’s Fortune), and I could practically recite portions of this with Miller’s narration while driving. This doesn’t mean I didn’t catch anything new, it just means that I enjoyed this time through immensely.

An old Army buddy (and C.O.) of Fletch’s calls him up for a favor — his father, Caxton Wheeler, is running for an unnamed party’s presidential nomination and has just had to fire their long-term press secretary, could Fletch step in? Minutes before Fletch arrives at the hotel the campaign is using a young woman plunged to her death from one of the rooms on the higher floors (later shown to be the candidate’s room). Fletch’s first job is to discover if she jumped or was pushed — and then to make sure that it had nothing to do with the campaign.

Sadly, it appears she was pushed — and she was associated with the campaign. Even worse, it seems like she’s the latest in a string of dead women near the campaign. Giving Fletch a quandary. He needs to figure out who is doing this killing (assuming it’s one person), insulate the candidate — and keep anyone else (i.e. the press) from printing the facts.

Fletch as an obstacle/opponent/facilitator (all at the same time) of the press in any shape is just a lot of fun. His instincts, training, and inclination is to dig into a story, find the facts on his own, and run the story. His new job is to feed information to reporters, keep them from doing any fact-finding on their own, and to hide aspects of the story. It is so fun to watch him struggle in this role.

Particularly because one of the reporters on the press bus is Freddie Arbuthnot, someone who might be a better reporter than Fletch. She’s certainly more employable than he is — as she’s a crime reporter, her presence on the campaign tells Fletch a lot about how serious this string of murderers is. Also, she’s a whole lot of fun as a character, so the reader gets something out of it, too.

Speaking of returning characters, we get Alston Chambers again — I need to do a better job of tracking his career path, but I think he’s moved up in the world a bit since we saw him last, so good for him. Alston served with Fletch under Walsh Wheeler and provides some vital information for his friend. He’s also just a great guy for Fletch to talk to and bounce things off of, helping both the character and reader to process what’s going on.

So who are the recipients for Mcdonald’s critique/satire? There are so many — tabloids (particularly the mid-80s version of them), politics, the press’ political coverage (about the horse race, not the ideas/work), pressures on a candidate (Wheeler is given drugs to wake up, keep him going and then to go to sleep because there’s no way that he could do that naturally with the pressures/pace of the campaign). Given his target-rich environment, the book could’ve been twice as long just to give Fletch the opportunity to tilt at a few more windmills and wouldn’t have lost much of its punch. Like I said with Fletch’s Moxie, it seems like his satire is even more on-point now than it was thirty years ago. Which really shouldn’t be the case.

I appreciated the fact that Mcdonald left party names out of this, and none of Wheeler’s policies can be easily labeled as belonging to one of the major parties. Anyone can read him as being one of their own (or, if they’re so inclined, one of the other guys). There’s not targeting or critique of a particular party, just the entire process.

At one point, inspired by a conversation he has with Fletch, Wheeler has a moment of statesmanship (a no-no for a candidate, Fletch is told) where he talks about the ways that technology is connecting the planet and helping share information in ways unthinkable generations earlier, and talks about how it will increase in that way. Essentially predicting the Internet as we know it. Granted, it’s a more utopian vision of the Internet rather than the dumpster fire it frequently is. But Wheeler/Mcdonald has a vision for what today is in a way that no mystery writer in 1983 should’ve.

Caxton Wheeler and his driver, Flash, will show up in a Flynn book that takes place sometime before this. They’re not there a lot, but I remember the first time I read that and it blew my mind (that was my second Flynn novel and I’d yet to find Confess, Fletch so I had no idea the universes were linked) while in Middle School.

Dan John Miller is great yet again — I’ve got nothing new to say about him. I need to track down some of his other narrations, see what I think of them.

Mcdonald shifts gears with his writing and the series after this, and I really, really wish he wouldn’t have. A few more books in the vein of Fortune, Moxie, and The Man Who would’ve been a boon to his readers, and would’ve solidified Mcdonald amongst the all-time greats. I’m sure he had his reasons, but from my vantage point (now and for the last couple of decades), he shouldn’t have. In the meantime, this work is a great mystery, fantastic commentary on politics and the media, and even a bit of prescience — bundled together with Mcdonald’s sharp prose, winning dialogue and characters that demand to be re-read. I can’t recommend Fletch and the Man Who highly enough.

—–

5 Stars
2019 Cloak & Dagger Challenge

Fletch’s Moxie (Audiobook) by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller: Fletch Solves a Very Hollywood Murder in Key West

Fletch’s Moxie (Audiobook)Fletch’s Moxie

by Gregory McDonald, Dan John Miller (Narrator)
Series: Fletch, #5 (#8 Chronologically)

Unabridged Audiobook, 5 hrs., 51 min.

Blackstone Audio, 2018

Read: April 24 – 29, 2019

So in the last book, we met Moxie Mooney while Fletch was still a working journalist. They’d known each other for some time at this point, and it might have been just about the last time they saw each other until now, sometime following Fletch’s Fortune (when his tax problems were taken care of and he could return to the States), although she had visited him in Italy shortly before this.

Moxie’s decided she needs Fletch’s help with something, she’s got some sort of problem that needs investigating, and who better? When Fletch arrives on the movie set for her current project in Florida, he’s just in time to help her with a brand-new problem. She’s appearing on a (pre-taped, thankfully) TV interview with her business manager—the only people on the set (or near enough the set) are Moxie, her manager, and the interviewer. So when the manager is killed with a knife to the back, there aren’t a whole lot of suspects.

Fletch jumps to action and gathers a lot of information (as only he can) before the police really even know what’s going on, including an in-depth interview (that doesn’t look like one) with the widow. He then whisks Moxie away to the home of a business associate in Key West, to keep her out of the spotlight while he can do some digging into both of her problems.

Great plan, that doesn’t account for two things: 1. Moxie’s father, the illustrious stage and film actor, Frederick Mooney—known more now for a constant state of drunkenness is visiting her, too, and has to come along; 2. Moxie tells the director and most of the cast where she’s staying and they arrive, too. Having a cast of movie stars past and present staying in one house tends to attract a bit of attention—especially when they’re associated with an unsolved murder.

One thing Fletch has done recently is buying enough stock in GCN (Global Cable News—a CNN-like entity) that executives take his phone call and pay attention to his news tips. This turns out to be pretty advantageous and helps with some of his research—this will prove fruitful for future books, too.

Fletch investigates the murder in the way he does best—by talking to people and interviewing them without their realizing it and making phone calls. I just love watching him work. It’s an intricate problem and Fletch’s solution is quite clever.

This particular book gives McDonald a chance to do two things—better explore Moxie’s character (who might be a richer character than Fletch, but not one you could base a series on) and lampoon Hollywood and its approach to the art/business of movie-making. Almost everything he talks about in this 1982 book is still prevalent — and maybe moreso.

I have nothing new to say about Dan John Miller—he’s a really good narrator and perfect for the series. I assume at this point, I’ll hear his voice in my head for at least part of the time I think about this character in the future.

This isn’t my favorite Fletch book, but it’s one of the best and a great showcase for both the character and McDonald. Amusing, insightful, smart and fun—hard to ask for more.

—–

4 Stars
2019 Cloak & Dagger Challenge

The Shameless by Ace Atkins: Tibbehah County’s Dark Past, Present and Future Combine for Atkins’ Strongest Novel Yet

The ShamelessThe Shameless

by Ace Atkins
Series: Quinn Colson, #9
Hardcover, 446 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2019

Read: July 23 – 24, 2019

This just feels like too much of a novel to do an adequate job with. It’s been a week and a half (at the time of writing), and I’m still thinking about this book and everything Atkins did in it. I’m honestly not up to the task of doing it right. But I’ll give it a shot, with the up-front caveat that I’m missing a lot. You just need to read this.

Twenty years ago, when Quinn was in High School, a student a couple of years older than him went missing in the woods while hunting—and everyone came out in droves to look for him. For weeks the town, the media, and the Sheriff’s Department (under Quinn’s uncle) devoted every waking hour to finding him. They eventually found his body near his rifle and ruled it a suicide. But no one was satisfied with that finding. Now, two New York journalists have arrived to re-open the case, look at things from a new perspective, and hopefully come up with enough material (and, better, a satisfying conclusion) for the next season of their podcast about missing people.

Quinn’s new wife, Maggie, had been the boy’s girlfriend and initially helps the podcasters out a lot. The boy’s family isn’t united about this new search for answers, but most people are willing to help (while being suspicious of the two). A lot of old secrets, old prejudices, and unanswered questions and qualms are brought forth from the recesses of the collective memory of the community. A tragedy that had shaken the county decades previously is doing the same thing again.

These two are in town for months, stirring up trouble, stirring up gossip, stirring up emotions (sometimes intentionally, sometimes not), and generally being a distraction for Quinn. He’d frankly love to devote energy, time and attention to solving a cold case, but there’s a bigger, more dangerous, and frankly, very contemporary threat—Senator Jimmy Vardaman. Vardaman’s been on the fringes (and frequently closer) to the problems around Tibbehah County for quite some time, but now he’s running in the gubernatorial primary and is doing much better than expected. If he wins this, he’s a shoo-in for the actual election. Tapping into a false sense of nostalgia for the Mississippi that never was, a healthy dose of racism, and empty platitudes—and a healthy dose of Syndicate cash—Vardaman’s doing better than anyone expected.

There are a number of crimes that Quinn strongly believes are tied to Vardaman, but he can’t find enough proof. Every time he comes close, something prevents it from happening—he has a few opportunities here to bring Vardaman down before primary and devotes all his energy toward them. One of the strongest themes running through this novel is the intersection of crime and politics, and how that affects both enterprises. Too often (in fiction and reality), politics boils down to the influence of and lust for money and power—which is pretty much what crime (particularly the more organized forms of it) is. Vardaman’s not the only example this series or this novel has of it, but he’s the current exemplar in Atkins’ world.

Meanwhile, Fannie Hathcock is still running the show when it comes to illicit materials and licit (but not fully-clothed) women in Tibbehah County. Recent events have left things shaky for her, and Vardaman’s ascent (and those he owes favors to) will make things shakier. We don’t see much of what that means in this book, but I think we will soon. I don’t think Fannie is a woman to be taken lightly—the power structures on both sides of the law may be less-than-welcoming to a woman—and I don’t expect her to go quietly (if she goes at all).

My biggest complaint is about Boom Kimbrough. Yes, Quinn’s best friend and staunchest ally (no offense to Maggie or Lillie), is a presence throughout—but is absent from the major story, and his subplot doesn’t get that much space. Boom’s primarily recovering from—to some extent—the events of The Sinners, and that’s about all we see from him. He and Caddy spend a lot of time together, but if he has more than one conversation with Quinn, I’d be surprised. I should’ve taken notes on that front (but who’d have thought I’d have to?). I assume we’ll see more of him in future books—I just don’t want to wait.

Using the podcast—and the stir it creates—to revisit many of the characters’ storylines, see how they got to where they are now (possibly to look at them in a different light)—is a brilliant move and Atkins uses it very effectively. There are moments recalled because of this podcast that I’d forgotten about or hadn’t seen in relation to the greater story arcs. Also, it’s a great way to help the reader see that other parts of the county may not see Quinn’s actions the same way the reader has. By using the podcast, Atkins is able to create drama with this as well as avoiding several dull information dumps.

Something that I don’t particularly enjoy—but respect and appreciate—is the way things ended. I’ve seen several people call it a cliff-hanger of an ending. I don’t really see it that way, but I can see where they’re coming from. Now, I’m not going to get into the details for obvious reasons (for one, I’m not a monster), but I can say that it was a very noir ending. Which fits, this is a dark series—fun, sometimes funny—but a real Southern noir. This is Colson at the noirest, particularly the last chapter. It was a perfect ending to a great book—so don’t take my not particularly enjoying as a complaint. I’d prefer an ending where justice triumphs, evil is vanquished, and Quinn rides off into the sunset. That ain’t the world we live in, that’s not the world of Tibbehah County, and this novel is better at showing us than the others have been (not that things like a tornado wiping out huge parts of the county are exactly rainbows and unicorns, either).

Can this be read as a jumping-on point? I actually think it can—it easily serves as a “Where We Are Now/Where We Have Been” novel. But just know that you’re going to want to go back and read the others to understand everything talked about (much of which is alluded to, rather than explained—the way you’d talk to an old friend about something that happened four years ago). Obviously, the best thing to do is get The Ranger and work your way up to this point, but this would be the best jumping-on point since The Ranger.

The Shameless is the longest novel in the series, easily the most ambitious, and very possibly the best (I can’t think of a better one, but I’d have to re-read them. Which isn’t a bad idea, actually.). It feels like a change in the series—which is hard to describe without spoiling, but if Chapter One was Quinn’s struggles against Stragg, Chapter Two would be everything up to this book until Stragg went to prison, and then Chapter Three is whatever comes after The Shameless. Something tells me this small-town sheriff is missing the days when his biggest problem was Stragg.

I really can’t recommend this enough—Quinn Colson and Ace Atkins are some of the best in the genre today and The Shameless is the best proof of that.

—–

5 Stars

2019 Library Love Challenge2019 Cloak & Dagger Challenge

Library Haul 8/3/19, My Eyes are Bigger than My Stomach

Sometimes it really hurts when most of your Library Hold list becomes available at the same time.

Case in point:

That’s my library haul for today. 1,654 pages of reading ahead of me—1,410 pages of which are due back on 8/17. Sure, that’s a very doable number, but at least a thousand of those pages are going to be slow work. Oh, and there’s the new Robert Crais book that should be arriving in my mailbox Tuesday (and you know I can’t let that sit around unread).

Honestly, it’s not that big of a problem (and a great problem to have!), but man…I look at that stack and just feel tired. Anyone else ever do this to themselves?