Category: Jesse Stone Page 1 of 2

PUB DAY REPOST: I Have Too Many Things to Say About Robert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets by Christopher Farnsworth

Cover of Robert B. Parker's Buried Secrets by Christopher FarnsworthRobert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets

by Christopher Farnsworth

DETAILS:
Series: Series: Jesse Stone, #22
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication Date: February 4, 2025
Format: eARC
Length: 352 pg.
Read Date: January 4-6, 2025
Buy from Bookshop.org Support Indie Bookstores

What’s Buried Secrets About?

Jesse is called to make a welfare check on an elderly Paradise resident (no one he knows) and finds the worst outcome—they are weeks too late for this check. Also, the man was a hoarder, and it’s near impossible to navigate through his home to his body without disturbing some of his stacks of…whatever it was that he’d accumulated.

When one box of photos is dislodged, Jesse finds several photos of murder victims. Crime Scene techs soon find $2 million in cash stashed in the house. Either one of these finds would send Jesse’s “coply intuition” to sound alarm bills—the two together? He knows that they stumbled onto something bad—and worse is on the way to Paradise if they can’t wrap up this case soon.

The A Story and Jesse

(not that most of the cast of characters aren’t involved in this storyline)
Something about this case sets Jesse off. Something is eating him in ways that he’s unprepared for, and he gets a little on edge and grumpy (at least to those on the outside). The bottle is calling to him in a way it hasn’t for a while. The voice is loud and tempting. There’s at least once that he goes looking for a bottle that thankfully isn’t there anymore.

The way this—and the related issues it brings up—work themselves out through this novel shows just how far Jesse has come since he first came to Paradise—or even since he stopped drinking in earnest. But that battle isn’t over.

The rest of the PPD is involved in this storyline, but this is Jesse’s focus throughout the novel—it’s also where everything that Jesse goes through emotionally/psychologically is rooted. As such, I’ve found that I can’t keep talking about this without telling you too much. So let’s move on to:

The B Story and Everyone Else

The day that this body is found is also the first day for a new officer for the PPD. He’d spent some time on patrol in a major city, and then a smaller city before this relocating. He tells Jesse that he wanted to be in a town like Paradise, where he could do some good.

There’s an incident or two—you could see them as first-day on-the-job eagerness, a training issue, or something worse. Before you know it, people in Paradise (and in the PPD) are divided over this one officer. Jesse is too caught up in this case, the city politics, and other things to really dig into things. Some others in the department aren’t so sure about him. Others are willing to give him a chance or three. Essentially, Jesse is willing to let things shake out on their own—at least until he’s able to close the murder.

He might not get that chance. Making this call is arguably Jesse’s biggest mistake in the novel.

In addition to the story of this officer, Farnsworth is able to bring in some discussion of what it means to be a police officer in the 21st Century USA. What does it look like, what kind of people should wear the badge? What kind of equipment should police departments have? How can people who have a problem with the police in their area safely do? There’s a related scene that touches on public protest and social media/legacy media fanning the flames.

In many—most—ways, this story is not the main focus of the book—but it’s so close that it might as well be. And as much as I enjoyed The A Story, this is the one that hooked me the deepest. Farnsworth did the franchise proud with it, too.

Farnsworth at the Helm

Poor Jesse Stone, this is his fourth author since Parker’s death. Just for that reason alone, I hope Farnsworth sticks around for a while. He and his readers need some continuity. Once you figure in what a bang-up job that Farnsworth did, I can underscore that hope a couple of times.

Unlike just about every other (I think every other, but let’s throw some wiggle room into this), Farnsworth didn’t give us a lot of trivia from Parker’s books to establish his bona fides. There were some references, but they were the same kind that Parker himself made. Farnsworth showed us his credentials in the way he wrote these characters, this community, and the story.

I was a little apprehensive about him—I read at least the first two of his Nathaniel Cade books—maybe all three, but nothing since. There was something about whichever Cade book was my last that didn’t leave me eager to try him again. Don’t ask me what it was—it’s been over a decade. I’m glad my loyalty to the series won out over my vague sense of apprehension (it wasn’t a close competition). He nailed it.

The one item that I’m most happy about is that with one line of dialogue, Farnsworth expanded on—added depth to—Dix. Did we need this for Dix? But I love that we got it. Also…it was a great way to give that gift to us.

BTS Question

I know there have been conversations between some of the Parker-verse authors about moves they were going to make with certain characters and whatnot—I can’t remember the details, but I heard in one or two interviews that  Atkins or Coleman had to make an adjustment to one book because of something the other did (I’m being very vague because I don’t remember too much and I’m too lazy to do the homework). So I’m sure that Farnsworth and Lupica had a conversation about this book and the events of Hot Property.

What I want to know is how did Hot Property impact this novel? Did Farnsworth have Rita’s scenes in this book completed and added a couple of lines to reflect it? Did he have something else in mind for those scenes and revised them to take advantage of Lupica’s latest? Just what kind of collaboration happened?

Does this impact my appreciation for either book? Nah. But I’m certainly curious.

So, what did I think about Buried Secrets?

At each step along the way, I kept thinking of other things I wanted to say about this one—and at book 22 of a series (no matter how many authors have contributed), that’s saying something. I’ve done my best to limit myself to the bigger matters, but I think I could add at least another 5 paragraphs without breaking a sweat (and they’d likely lead to others).

When Coleman got Jesse into AA, I saw one fan complain about him turning Jesse into “another whining Twelve Step wuss” (that’s very close to it). This seemed like an odd take, as most of Parker’s work (since 1974’s God Save the Child) has celebrated people getting help via therapy or some other means to improve—even save—their lives. I’m afraid that some of what this book does is going to elicit similar reactions from that fan and many others. I hope that the publisher, the Parker Estate, and Farnsworth ignore all that. I don’t see anything here that doesn’t fit in Parker’s worldview (or at least the worldview of all of his fiction).

The Paradise Police Department—particularly the officers we’ve spent time with since Night Passage—got to shine as they ought to. Sure, it’s Jesse’s series, but Molly, Suit, Peter, Gabe, and the others are more than just cardboard cutouts in the background (obviously we don’t know as much about Peter and Gabe as we do some others). The more the various personnel get to contribute, the more the books feel like it’s about a Police Chief—not some rogue lawman. I’m glad Farnsworth did that.

Buried Secrets was satisfying on every level that I can think of. It’s the best Jesse Stone novel in years (with all due respect to Mr. Lupica), specifically since The Hangman’s Sonnet or Colorblind (now that I’ve mentioned those two books in particular, I could probably have written a post just about the ways that Buried Secrets parallels major elements of those, something I hadn’t thought of until now). It contains a good mystery, some strong social commentary, some great character moments, a bunch of characters on the other side of the law that you just have to meet, some solid action, and most of all, time with characters that fans have been spending time with for decades.

I strongly recommend this.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post which contains my honest opinion—thanks to both for this.


4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
Irresponsible Reader Pilcrow Icon

I Have Too Many Things to Say About Robert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets by Christopher Farnsworth

Cover of Robert B. Parker's Buried Secrets by Christopher FarnsworthRobert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets

by Christopher Farnsworth

DETAILS:
Series: Series: Jesse Stone, #22
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication Date: February 4, 2025
Format: eARC
Length: 352 pg.
Read Date: January 4-6, 2025
Buy from Bookshop.org Support Indie Bookstores

What’s Buried Secrets About?

Jesse is called to make a welfare check on an elderly Paradise resident (no one he knows) and finds the worst outcome—they are weeks too late for this check. Also, the man was a hoarder, and it’s near impossible to navigate through his home to his body without disturbing some of his stacks of…whatever it was that he’d accumulated.

When one box of photos is dislodged, Jesse finds several photos of murder victims. Crime Scene techs soon find $2 million in cash stashed in the house. Either one of these finds would send Jesse’s “coply intuition” to sound alarm bills—the two together? He knows that they stumbled onto something bad—and worse is on the way to Paradise if they can’t wrap up this case soon.

The A Story and Jesse

(not that most of the cast of characters aren’t involved in this storyline)
Something about this case sets Jesse off. Something is eating him in ways that he’s unprepared for, and he gets a little on edge and grumpy (at least to those on the outside). The bottle is calling to him in a way it hasn’t for a while. The voice is loud and tempting. There’s at least once that he goes looking for a bottle that thankfully isn’t there anymore.

The way this—and the related issues it brings up—work themselves out through this novel shows just how far Jesse has come since he first came to Paradise—or even since he stopped drinking in earnest. But that battle isn’t over.

The rest of the PPD is involved in this storyline, but this is Jesse’s focus throughout the novel—it’s also where everything that Jesse goes through emotionally/psychologically is rooted. As such, I’ve found that I can’t keep talking about this without telling you too much. So let’s move on to:

The B Story and Everyone Else

The day that this body is found is also the first day for a new officer for the PPD. He’d spent some time on patrol in a major city, and then a smaller city before this relocating. He tells Jesse that he wanted to be in a town like Paradise, where he could do some good.

There’s an incident or two—you could see them as first-day on-the-job eagerness, a training issue, or something worse. Before you know it, people in Paradise (and in the PPD) are divided over this one officer. Jesse is too caught up in this case, the city politics, and other things to really dig into things. Some others in the department aren’t so sure about him. Others are willing to give him a chance or three. Essentially, Jesse is willing to let things shake out on their own—at least until he’s able to close the murder.

He might not get that chance. Making this call is arguably Jesse’s biggest mistake in the novel.

In addition to the story of this officer, Farnsworth is able to bring in some discussion of what it means to be a police officer in the 21st Century USA. What does it look like, what kind of people should wear the badge? What kind of equipment should police departments have? How can people who have a problem with the police in their area safely do? There’s a related scene that touches on public protest and social media/legacy media fanning the flames.

In many—most—ways, this story is not the main focus of the book—but it’s so close that it might as well be. And as much as I enjoyed The A Story, this is the one that hooked me the deepest. Farnsworth did the franchise proud with it, too.

Farnsworth at the Helm

Poor Jesse Stone, this is his fourth author since Parker’s death. Just for that reason alone, I hope Farnsworth sticks around for a while. He and his readers need some continuity. Once you figure in what a bang-up job that Farnsworth did, I can underscore that hope a couple of times.

Unlike just about every other (I think every other, but let’s throw some wiggle room into this), Farnsworth didn’t give us a lot of trivia from Parker’s books to establish his bona fides. There were some references, but they were the same kind that Parker himself made. Farnsworth showed us his credentials in the way he wrote these characters, this community, and the story.

I was a little apprehensive about him—I read at least the first two of his Nathaniel Cade books—maybe all three, but nothing since. There was something about whichever Cade book was my last that didn’t leave me eager to try him again. Don’t ask me what it was—it’s been over a decade. I’m glad my loyalty to the series won out over my vague sense of apprehension (it wasn’t a close competition). He nailed it.

The one item that I’m most happy about is that with one line of dialogue, Farnsworth expanded on—added depth to—Dix. Did we need this for Dix? But I love that we got it. Also…it was a great way to give that gift to us.

BTS Question

I know there have been conversations between some of the Parker-verse authors about moves they were going to make with certain characters and whatnot—I can’t remember the details, but I heard in one or two interviews that  Atkins or Coleman had to make an adjustment to one book because of something the other did (I’m being very vague because I don’t remember too much and I’m too lazy to do the homework). So I’m sure that Farnsworth and Lupica had a conversation about this book and the events of Hot Property.

What I want to know is how did Hot Property impact this novel? Did Farnsworth have Rita’s scenes in this book completed and added a couple of lines to reflect it? Did he have something else in mind for those scenes and revised them to take advantage of Lupica’s latest? Just what kind of collaboration happened?

Does this impact my appreciation for either book? Nah. But I’m certainly curious.

So, what did I think about Buried Secrets?

At each step along the way, I kept thinking of other things I wanted to say about this one—and at book 22 of a series (no matter how many authors have contributed), that’s saying something. I’ve done my best to limit myself to the bigger matters, but I think I could add at least another 5 paragraphs without breaking a sweat (and they’d likely lead to others).

When Coleman got Jesse into AA, I saw one fan complain about him turning Jesse into “another whining Twelve Step wuss” (that’s very close to it). This seemed like an odd take, as most of Parker’s work (since 1974’s God Save the Child) has celebrated people getting help via therapy or some other means to improve—even save—their lives. I’m afraid that some of what this book does is going to elicit similar reactions from that fan and many others. I hope that the publisher, the Parker Estate, and Farnsworth ignore all that. I don’t see anything here that doesn’t fit in Parker’s worldview (or at least the worldview of all of his fiction).

The Paradise Police Department—particularly the officers we’ve spent time with since Night Passage—got to shine as they ought to. Sure, it’s Jesse’s series, but Molly, Suit, Peter, Gabe, and the others are more than just cardboard cutouts in the background (obviously we don’t know as much about Peter and Gabe as we do some others). The more the various personnel get to contribute, the more the books feel like it’s about a Police Chief—not some rogue lawman. I’m glad Farnsworth did that.

Buried Secrets was satisfying on every level that I can think of. It’s the best Jesse Stone novel in years (with all due respect to Mr. Lupica), specifically since The Hangman’s Sonnet or Colorblind (now that I’ve mentioned those two books in particular, I could probably have written a post just about the ways that Buried Secrets parallels major elements of those, something I hadn’t thought of until now). It contains a good mystery, some strong social commentary, some great character moments, a bunch of characters on the other side of the law that you just have to meet, some solid action, and most of all, time with characters that fans have been spending time with for decades.

I strongly recommend this.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post which contains my honest opinion—thanks to both for this.


4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
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Robert B. Parker’s Fallout by Mike Lupica: Two Murders Rock Paradise

When I started to write this, I thought it’d be a 5 +/- paragraph post, but apparently I can’t shut up about books in a Parker series (and I did try).


FalloutFallout

by Mike Lupica

DETAILS:
Series: Jesse Stone, #21
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication Date: September 5, 2022
Format: Hardcover
Length: 353 pg.
Read Date: September 7-8, 2022
Support Independent Bookstores - Visit IndieBound.org

“I guess drinking was his way of dealing with it tonight.”

“That was always my first option,” Jesse said. “And second. And third. But no matter how many times I tried, it never seemed to work.”

There was a pause at her end.

“He didn’t get into any fights, did he?”

“Just with himself,” Jesse said. “Spoiler alert? He lost.”

What’s Fallout About?

There are two murders for the Paradise Police Department to focus on in this book—and both have a lot of personal resonance.

The first is the suspicious death of Suit’s nephew. He was a senior in High School and a hot college baseball prospect—naturally, a great athlete—and had been getting better because of Jesse’s mentoring. Suit thought of Jack as a son more than a nephew and he’s devastated by this. It’s unclear if he died after a drunken fight at a party, or if he’d been driven by inner demons to end his own life. No one wants to believe the latter—but they can’t rule it out. A very not-subtle cone of silence around the team is being enforced—as that was pretty much all of Jack’s life, that means the investigation isn’t getting very far.

Some time ago, a former Paradise Police Chief moved back to town and befriended Jesse. The two regularly had dinner together, and one of the first things we see is a meal between Jessee and Charlie Farrell. The woman that Charlie’s been seeing was recently swindled out of a few thousand dollars and now it looks like scammers have targeted Charlie. He’s been retired for decades, but still has the instincts and reflexes to try to track them down himself rather than turn things over to Jesse’s crew. He must’ve been on the right track because he was killed. This shakes (an already shaken) Jesse, who sets his sights on this case so much that he turns Jack’s death primarily over to Molly. He was Chief before any of the officers we know joined the force (as far as I can tell), but it’s still about “one of their own.”

Jesse’s Battle with Alcohol

I’m not crazy about Lupica’s way of dealing with Jesse’s alcoholism compared to Coleman’s—but it’s better than Parker or Brandman did. But I really liked Jesse’s ruminations about people being able to stop drinking while the bottle still had something left, or when the option to order another glass was available. Actually, all of the material about his drinking in this book was good—better than he’s given us so far. Hopefully, the trend continues.

Miscellaneous Bullet Points

I don’t have time/inclination to expand these beyond brief paragraphs—but I felt compelled to mention a few things.

bullet Okay, the over-use/over-reliance on Crow, basically making him Jesse’s Hawk, bugs me. It also doesn’t do that any favors for the character of Crow or Jesse—and really doesn’t help Molly’s character in any conceivable way (although Lupica may have a long game there). Parker (inadvertently?) tamed Hawk by using him too much—and was well on the way to doing that with Bobby Horse and Chollo, too. And now Lupica’s doing that with Crow. Use him less (far less) and he retains his mystery, his edge, and his ability to do the things that Jesse won’t do.

bullet This isn’t evaluative, per se, I guess I’d file it as a general musing—it felt to me like this book was (for lack of a better term) swear-ier than I’m used to. Parker and the other authors in the Spenser-verse have never been reluctant to use a four-letter word when the situation called for it, by any means. It seemed like a noticeable uptick in those words. I’m not saying that Lupica’s turned into Kevin Smith or anything, it just gave everything a slightly different feel. I wonder if that’ll continue, if it was just a blip, or if I’m imagining things.

bullet It really feels like Lupica is trying to write off Jesse’s son, Cole. Had Coleman continued with the series, I’m curious about how he’d have handled the character. I’ve had so many questions about his introduction in the first place, and now it feels like Lupica’s trying to pull a Chuck Cunningham with him—sending him to law school in London and taking him out of Jesse’s life. He actually thinks, “The kid sounded happy. Leave him alone.”

bullet So Molly came clean with her husband about her fling with Crow several years ago. Now her marriage is all but over. No one has given us enough time with Molly’s husband over the previous 20 books for us to get that invested in the marriage—so putting it on the rocks doesn’t do much for the character either. I really don’t care either way, except that it feels like Molly’s character is drifting and becoming a different person. But that happens to all of us, so I can’t complain on principle, just…

bullet Yeah, Parker created his three series in a way to allow the characters to intersect—but other than the Jesse/Sunny love story, and the Sunny/Susan therapy relationship, the primary characters didn’t intermingle too much. I’m not sure if the current approach of bringing them all together so much is the right way to deal with them. I’m not sure it’s not, either.

bullet Building from that—if you’re going to bring these worlds together so much, and if you’re going to introduce and kill off a police chief that coincidentally(??) shares the last name of a frequently used supporting character who is also a cop? Someone had better say something. If only so that readers stop thinking about it. In a Spenser-verse book, if someone talks about “Farrell,” I reflexively think, “Lee.” I can’t imagine I’m alone there—I just don’t get that character name choice. I bumped on it every time it was mentioned (and, as the central death in one of the two major storylines, it came up a lot).

So, what did I think about Fallout?

This was entertaining and occasionally clever. I don’t know that I felt the emotional impact of either murder—I felt for Suit, but I’m not sure I cared too much about it. Maybe if we’d been able to focus on what Suit was going through while he was doing the investigation—keep it a Jesse and Suit thing with some backup from Molly. In the end, it became primarily a Molly and Jesse thing with Suit in the background.

I don’t know if Lupica’s capable of delivering a great Jesse Stone novel, instead, I think we’re going to get a streak of pretty good—and consistently so—novels (well, he’s probably capable, but I don’t get the impression that it’s his goal). That’s good enough for me, I might want something more, but consistently good and entertaining will sustain my interest.

I’m not sure if this is the place to jump onto the series—but it’s not necessarily a bad place. It’s the 21st in the series, but you don’t need the knowledge that comes from the previous twenty. It might help, but not that much, you’ll not miss much at all.

A good time will be had by those who take a dip into these waters.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

PUB DAY REPOST: Robert B. Parker’s Stone Throw by Mike Lupica: The Twentieth Jesse Stone Novel Shows this Series Still has Plenty of Life in It

Stone's Throw

Robert B. Parker’s Stone’s Throw

by Mike Lupica
Series: Jesse Stone, #20

eARC, 336 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2021

Read: August 17-18, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Stone’s Throw About?

The mayor of Paradise is found dead at the site of a contentious land deal—it’s one of the most sought-after properties in Paradise, and the City is preparing to weigh in and deciding which of two buyers get to put a casino on it—while several citizens are trying to block the sale at all. The mayor is clearly sympathetic to the anti-sale voices, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to be able to do anything to stop it going forward.

And then he apparently commits suicide on that piece of real estate. Jesse’s not so sure about the suicide part, however, it doesn’t make sense to him for several reasons—his friendship with the mayor is just one of them (the fact that the left-handed man seemingly used his right hand to shoot himself would be another).

Jesse just has to decide who has the most motive to kill him—one of the buyers? The seller? The anti-sale group?

Then the leader of the conservation movement goes missing, and his girlfriend is worried. Then it turns out that Wilson Cromartie—Crow—is working for one of the casino builders. He and the Paradise Police Department have a very shaky history—his criminal past (all beyond the statute of limitations) makes Jesse dis-inclined to trust him, no matter how much assistance he rendered in finding a missing girl later. Is Crow on the side of angels this time, or could he be behind the mayor’s death?

In a case that clearly calls for someone to “follow the money” there’s so much of it flying around that it’d be easy to get lost trying that, there are no easy answers for Jesse and the rest of the PPD.

Molly

From the beginning of the series, Molly Crane has been one of the highlights of the books and of the Paradise Police Department. She’s loyal, competent, and has a big heart. She’s stood by Jesse when things were at their worst for him—covering for him as much as she could. She’s almost too perfect—except for the one time she slept with Crow. That’s pretty much the only time she’s done something wrong.

And since then—at least once per book*—Jesse has brought that transgression up. Every author—Parker, Brandman**, Coleman, and now Lupica—has had Jesse throw this in her face regularly. It’s always bothered me that it’s so constant, so frequent—the woman beats herself up for it, she’s been so good to Jesse, and this is how he treats her?

* As far as I remember, I could be wrong about that, I doubt there’s been more than 2 books without it.

** I honestly remember so little about the Brandman novels, I only assume he followed suit.

And now, Crow is back—and he and Molly interact a bit, both with others around and one-on-one. Without getting into anything, I hope that this allows Molly to get past this act of infidelity—and that Jesse stops bringing it up. Really, there’s an opportunity for closure here, and I hope Lupica takes it.

Talkin’ Baseball

I always liked that Parker wrote Jesse as someone who became a cop not because he had the drive to see justice done, to serve and protect, etc.—but because he had to re-evaluate his life after his baseball career-ending injury and then came to the career in law enforcement.

Parker treated this well, in a “road not taken” kind of way. Coleman did a good job with it—although Blind Spot was more about being part of a team, more than the sport. But Lupica? Lupica really knows how to write about this part of Jesse’s life. He has Jesse think about this a lot in the first chapter and I put in my notes, “this is the best passage in Lupica’s Parker books.” And then it comes up later in the book, too. I don’t know if it’s all the sports books in Lupica’s past, just a better insight into the mindset of the baseball player, or what—but this book has the best usage of Jesse’s former career that this twenty-book series has had.

So, what did I think about Stone’s Throw?

I wasn’t crazy about this at the beginning—it was always good, but I didn’t get sucked in right away. I also wasn’t crazy about the way that Crow was being used—it reminded me of the way that Parker took some of the danger away from Vinnie Morris, Bobby Horse, and Chollo after their initial appearances. But it started to grow on me the further I got into it—and by the last half, I was invested as I could’ve hoped to be.

And even if I wasn’t—just being back in Paradise with Jesse, Suit, and Molly is good enough.

Lupica’s got the voices down, he understands Paradise, he gets the cast of characters right and this book feels like he’s been writing Stone novels for more years than he has—I had to remind myself that this is only his second time with this series. I’d have easily believed this is the fifth.

Whether you’re new to Jesse Stone, or you’ve been reading them since the beginning, this is a novel that will entertain you and leave you looking forward to the next one.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.


4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Robert B. Parker’s Stone Throw by Mike Lupica: The Twentieth Jesse Stone Novel Shows this Series Still has Plenty of Life in It

Stone's Throw

Robert B. Parker’s Stone’s Throw

by Mike Lupica
Series: Jesse Stone, #20

eARC, 336 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2021

Read: August 17-18, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Stone’s Throw About?

The mayor of Paradise is found dead at the site of a contentious land deal—it’s one of the most sought-after properties in Paradise, and the City is preparing to weigh in and deciding which of two buyers get to put a casino on it—while several citizens are trying to block the sale at all. The mayor is clearly sympathetic to the anti-sale voices, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to be able to do anything to stop it going forward.

And then he apparently commits suicide on that piece of real estate. Jesse’s not so sure about the suicide part, however, it doesn’t make sense to him for several reasons—his friendship with the mayor is just one of them (the fact that the left-handed man seemingly used his right hand to shoot himself would be another).

Jesse just has to decide who has the most motive to kill him—one of the buyers? The seller? The anti-sale group?

Then the leader of the conservation movement goes missing, and his girlfriend is worried. Then it turns out that Wilson Cromartie—Crow—is working for one of the casino builders. He and the Paradise Police Department have a very shaky history—his criminal past (all beyond the statute of limitations) makes Jesse dis-inclined to trust him, no matter how much assistance he rendered in finding a missing girl later. Is Crow on the side of angels this time, or could he be behind the mayor’s death?

In a case that clearly calls for someone to “follow the money” there’s so much of it flying around that it’d be easy to get lost trying that, there are no easy answers for Jesse and the rest of the PPD.

Molly

From the beginning of the series, Molly Crane has been one of the highlights of the books and of the Paradise Police Department. She’s loyal, competent, and has a big heart. She’s stood by Jesse when things were at their worst for him—covering for him as much as she could. She’s almost too perfect—except for the one time she slept with Crow. That’s pretty much the only time she’s done something wrong.

And since then—at least once per book*—Jesse has brought that transgression up. Every author—Parker, Brandman**, Coleman, and now Lupica—has had Jesse throw this in her face regularly. It’s always bothered me that it’s so constant, so frequent—the woman beats herself up for it, she’s been so good to Jesse, and this is how he treats her?

* As far as I remember, I could be wrong about that, I doubt there’s been more than 2 books without it.

** I honestly remember so little about the Brandman novels, I only assume he followed suit.

And now, Crow is back—and he and Molly interact a bit, both with others around and one-on-one. Without getting into anything, I hope that this allows Molly to get past this act of infidelity—and that Jesse stops bringing it up. Really, there’s an opportunity for closure here, and I hope Lupica takes it.

Talkin’ Baseball

I always liked that Parker wrote Jesse as someone who became a cop not because he had the drive to see justice done, to serve and protect, etc.—but because he had to re-evaluate his life after his baseball career-ending injury and then came to the career in law enforcement.

Parker treated this well, in a “road not taken” kind of way. Coleman did a good job with it—although Blind Spot was more about being part of a team, more than the sport. But Lupica? Lupica really knows how to write about this part of Jesse’s life. He has Jesse think about this a lot in the first chapter and I put in my notes, “this is the best passage in Lupica’s Parker books.” And then it comes up later in the book, too. I don’t know if it’s all the sports books in Lupica’s past, just a better insight into the mindset of the baseball player, or what—but this book has the best usage of Jesse’s former career that this twenty-book series has had.

So, what did I think about Stone’s Throw?

I wasn’t crazy about this at the beginning—it was always good, but I didn’t get sucked in right away. I also wasn’t crazy about the way that Crow was being used—it reminded me of the way that Parker took some of the danger away from Vinnie Morris, Bobby Horse, and Chollo after their initial appearances. But it started to grow on me the further I got into it—and by the last half, I was invested as I could’ve hoped to be.

And even if I wasn’t—just being back in Paradise with Jesse, Suit, and Molly is good enough.

Lupica’s got the voices down, he understands Paradise, he gets the cast of characters right and this book feels like he’s been writing Stone novels for more years than he has—I had to remind myself that this is only his second time with this series. I’d have easily believed this is the fifth.

Whether you’re new to Jesse Stone, or you’ve been reading them since the beginning, this is a novel that will entertain you and leave you looking forward to the next one.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.


4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Reposting Just Cuz: Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise by Mike Lupica: Jesse Stone takes a Murder Case Personally

Fool's Paradise

Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise

by Mike Lupica
Series: Jesse Stone, #19

eARC, 352 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

Read: September 2-3, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Fool’s Paradise About?

Suitcase Simpson calls Jesse to the scene of a murder, an unidentified man has been found shot at the lakeshore. Jesse recognizes the man—they’d been at the same AA meeting the previous night. It’s not Jesse’s regular meeting, and he didn’t think this man was a regular, either. But at least they had a first name to go off of.

Suit is able to find out at least a little about what the man did after the meeting. He’d taken a taxi from the neighboring town into Paradise. He even had an address—the mansion of a rich and influential family who’d been in Paradise for ages. They’re quick to claim they didn’t know the man, or that he’d been at the house in the hours before he was shot. No member of PPD believes this, but there’s little they can do until they learn a bit more about the victim.

Jesse admits this isn’t entirely rational—but doesn’t back off from it—the fact that he and the victim came to the same meeting, both needing the help that can be found there, created a link for between the two of them. Jesse felt like he owed this man justice more than he would another victim (not that Jesse’s ever been known to not try to find justice for anyone, it’s just personal this time). I loved this little touch—it felt very true to the character and his circumstances, but something that a lot of authors wouldn’t do.

Not long after this, someone takes a shot at Jesse while he’s in his home. Soon, other members of the PPD are attacked off-duty. As always, Jesse, Molly, and Suit acknowledge that coincidences exist, but they have a hard time believing in them. So while they try to identify the murder victim and figure out what he’s going in Paradise (and that part of Paradise in particular), they also need to figure out why someone would be attacking the PPD. And are the two cases related?

A Nice Little Bonus

There’s a lot of Molly in this book. She gets whole chapters without Jesse in them, and a lot of space on her own in chapters with him. We get a little bit of an off-the-job look at Molly, as well as seeing her work part of the investigation. Yes, Jesse’s the central character and should be the focus—but any time that Lupica (or whoever) can flesh out Molly, Suitcase, or any of the others is time well spent (I like the new deputy, too—he was a nice touch). But Molly’s been a favorite since Night Passage introduced this world, and she’s rarely been used as well as the character should’ve been. It’s so nice to see that.

Lupica’s Take on Jesse Stone

I was worried about Lupica being given the reins of this series. I was such a fan of what Colman had done, saving the series from the Michael Brandman debacle—and even from some of the uneven quality that Parker had given toward the end.

But Lupica did exactly what he needed to do—and exactly what I’d hoped (and didn’t expect). He embraced the developments that Coleman introduced and built on them. He could’ve ignored them, or written around them, but he kept Jesse going to AA, he worked on the new relationship with Cole, and Paradise and the Paradise Police Department the same way Coleman had, treating that bit of the series with as much respect and influence as the first nine novels.

Stylistically, Lupica’s closer to Parker than Coleman—which makes sense, it’s the more natural way for him to write (and will likely win back some of Coleman’s detractors). It works for the series, it works for the author—all in all, it’s a good move.

I freely admit that I was skeptical and pessimistic about anyone but Coleman at the post-Parker helm of Jesse Stone and am glad to be proven wrong.

Something I was Pleasantly Surprised By

While I have thought in the past that the best use of Sunny Randall was when Parker used her in the Jesse Stone novels, I wasn’t thrilled to see her in these pages—I thought that Stone, at least, had grown past this relationship. It’s not what it was back in the 3-4 books that Parker wrote with them as a couple, but reflects where they both are now.

I’ve got to say, I liked her here. I liked her in Paradise more than I liked her in the two books that Lupica has written about Sunny. If he keeps this up, I won’t complain.

Lupica’s War on my Sanity

Sure, that’s hyperbolic. But it felt like he was doing this to just bug me.

The mansion that the taxi pulled up to that fateful night is owned by the Cain family, Whit and Lilly Cain. Whit suffered a stroke a few months back, so his wife, Lilly, is who Jesse primarily interacts with. She’s brash, confident, loud, and flirtatious.

Now, I’ve watched the Veronica Mars series more times than I should have. Season One more than the rest. Every time I read “Lilly Cain,” I couldn’t think about anything other than “Lily Kane,” Veronica’s brash, confident, loud, and flirtatious friend.

I know it’s a coincidence, that neither name is all that rare. But it didn’t feel that way.

So, what did I think about Fool’s Paradise?

I liked this so much more than I expected to. I went into this hoping I wouldn’t hate it, and it didn’t take long at all for me to realize I was enjoying it. The prose crackled and moved quickly. There was enough of Jesse’s quiet humor to keep me grinning. The relationships and banter between the characters was spot on. The cases were compelling, interestingly framed, and well-executed. Lupica tied his novel into the overall history of the series well (referencing over half of the books, I think) and established that he’s the right man for the job. I strongly recommend this—either for new readers or established fans. Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise is a satisfying read that’ll get you eager to see what comes next.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.


4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Pub Day Post: Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise by Mike Lupica: Jesse Stone takes a Murder Case Personally

Fool's Paradise

Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise

by Mike Lupica
Series: Jesse Stone, #19

eARC, 352 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

Read: September 2-3, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Fool’s Paradise About?

Suitcase Simpson calls Jesse to the scene of a murder, an unidentified man has been found shot at the lakeshore. Jesse recognizes the man—they’d been at the same AA meeting the previous night. It’s not Jesse’s regular meeting, and he didn’t think this man was a regular, either. But at least they had a first name to go off of.

Suit is able to find out at least a little about what the man did after the meeting. He’d taken a taxi from the neighboring town into Paradise. He even had an address—the mansion of a rich and influential family who’d been in Paradise for ages. They’re quick to claim they didn’t know the man, or that he’d been at the house in the hours before he was shot. No member of PPD believes this, but there’s little they can do until they learn a bit more about the victim.

Jesse admits this isn’t entirely rational—but doesn’t back off from it—the fact that he and the victim came to the same meeting, both needing the help that can be found there, created a link for between the two of them. Jesse felt like he owed this man justice more than he would another victim (not that Jesse’s ever been known to not try to find justice for anyone, it’s just personal this time). I loved this little touch—it felt very true to the character and his circumstances, but something that a lot of authors wouldn’t do.

Not long after this, someone takes a shot at Jesse while he’s in his home. Soon, other members of the PPD are attacked off-duty. As always, Jesse, Molly, and Suit acknowledge that coincidences exist, but they have a hard time believing in them. So while they try to identify the murder victim and figure out what he’s going in Paradise (and that part of Paradise in particular), they also need to figure out why someone would be attacking the PPD. And are the two cases related?

A Nice Little Bonus

There’s a lot of Molly in this book. She gets whole chapters without Jesse in them, and a lot of space on her own in chapters with him. We get a little bit of an off-the-job look at Molly, as well as seeing her work part of the investigation. Yes, Jesse’s the central character and should be the focus—but any time that Lupica (or whoever) can flesh out Molly, Suitcase, or any of the others is time well spent (I like the new deputy, too—he was a nice touch). But Molly’s been a favorite since Night Passage introduced this world, and she’s rarely been used as well as the character should’ve been. It’s so nice to see that.

Lupica’s Take on Jesse Stone

I was worried about Lupica being given the reins of this series. I was such a fan of what Colman had done, saving the series from the Michael Brandman debacle—and even from some of the uneven quality that Parker had given toward the end.

But Lupica did exactly what he needed to do—and exactly what I’d hoped (and didn’t expect). He embraced the developments that Coleman introduced and built on them. He could’ve ignored them, or written around them, but he kept Jesse going to AA, he worked on the new relationship with Cole, and Paradise and the Paradise Police Department the same way Coleman had, treating that bit of the series with as much respect and influence as the first nine novels.

Stylistically, Lupica’s closer to Parker than Coleman—which makes sense, it’s the more natural way for him to write (and will likely win back some of Coleman’s detractors). It works for the series, it works for the author—all in all, it’s a good move.

I freely admit that I was skeptical and pessimistic about anyone but Coleman at the post-Parker helm of Jesse Stone and am glad to be proven wrong.

Something I was Pleasantly Surprised By

While I have thought in the past that the best use of Sunny Randall was when Parker used her in the Jesse Stone novels, I wasn’t thrilled to see her in these pages—I thought that Stone, at least, had grown past this relationship. It’s not what it was back in the 3-4 books that Parker wrote with them as a couple, but reflects where they both are now.

I’ve got to say, I liked her here. I liked her in Paradise more than I liked her in the two books that Lupica has written about Sunny. If he keeps this up, I won’t complain.

Lupica’s War on my Sanity

Sure, that’s hyperbolic. But it felt like he was doing this to just bug me.

The mansion that the taxi pulled up to that fateful night is owned by the Cain family, Whit and Lilly Cain. Whit suffered a stroke a few months back, so his wife, Lilly, is who Jesse primarily interacts with. She’s brash, confident, loud, and flirtatious.

Now, I’ve watched the Veronica Mars series more times than I should have. Season One more than the rest. Every time I read “Lilly Cain,” I couldn’t think about anything other than “Lily Kane,” Veronica’s brash, confident, loud, and flirtatious friend.

I know it’s a coincidence, that neither name is all that rare. But it didn’t feel that way.

So, what did I think about Fool’s Paradise?

I liked this so much more than I expected to. I went into this hoping I wouldn’t hate it, and it didn’t take long at all for me to realize I was enjoying it. The prose crackled and moved quickly. There was enough of Jesse’s quiet humor to keep me grinning. The relationships and banter between the characters was spot on. The cases were compelling, interestingly framed, and well-executed. Lupica tied his novel into the overall history of the series well (referencing over half of the books, I think) and established that he’s the right man for the job. I strongly recommend this—either for new readers or established fans. Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise is a satisfying read that’ll get you eager to see what comes next.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.


4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

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

The Bitterest Pill

Robert 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

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

Pub Day Repost: Colorblind by Reed Farrel Coleman: Jesse Stone is Clean, Sober and in Dire Straits

ColorblindRobert B. Parker’s Colorblind

by Reed Farrel Coleman
Series: Jesse Stone, #17
eARC, 368 pg.
G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2018
Read: July 18, 2018

This is Coleman’s fifth Jesse Stone novel, the seventeenth in the series overall and Coleman has really put his stamp on the character here. He’s made the series his own already, adding depth and shades of color to characters that’ve been around for years, don’t get me wrong. But everything he’s done could be changed, dropped, or ignored in the next — like an old Star Trek or Columbo episode. But following up from the closing pages of The Hangman’s Sonnet, in Colorblind he’s enacted permanent change on Jesse — yeah, things might not go smoothly from this point — he may stumble. But things won’t be the same — cannot be the same without some sort of Star Wars Expanded Universe level retcon. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

First we need to start with the crime part of the novel — it’s ostensibly what people are buying this for, and the novel’s focus. I can absolutely see this happening in Real Life ™ — a white supremacist group from New York is attacking mixed race couples (and by “mixed,” I obviously mean one white person and one person from another race — they wouldn’t care if an Asian man and a Hispanic woman were together) and spreading propaganda in Paradise, of all places. There’s a reason Paradise was chosen — several, actually, and it actually makes sense in context — it’s not just a convenient way to get it into a Jesse Stone novel. Only one of the crimes involved is technically something that Jesse is supposed to be investigating.

Once one of his officers becomes embroiled in this series of crimes — and the possible target of an elaborate frame job — Jesse stops really caring about things like jurisdictions, and will stop at nothing to find the truth. If there’s a connection between the different crimes, he’ll find it. The question he has no answer to is: for what end? Why are these people in Paradise? What do they have to gain from framing his officer?

Yes, certain elements of this story stretch credulity a bit — but in context it absolutely works. And while I say something stretches credulity, I can’t help but wonder if it really does. The actions of this particular supremacist group might not be that much different from the dreams of too many. Also, the race-based crimes, the murders, the vandalism — everything that Paradise or Massachusetts can prosecute people for — are not the biggest evil perpetrated by the members of that group. There’s a deeper darkness working here, something that people with radically different views can also perpetrate — Coleman could’ve gone the easy route and made it all about “Them,” but he points at something that everyone can and should recoil from.

While Jesse works to prevent things from getting out of hand in Paradise, he is struggling to prevent himself from doing what he’s so often done before — retreat to the bottle. He has several reasons to, several excuses to — and decades of experience telling him to do so. Fresh (Very, very fresh) off a stint at rehab, Jesse starts attending AA meetings (in Boston, nothing local that could cause problems for himself or anyone else in the meeting). I absolutely loved this part of the book — I think Coleman’s treatment of Jesse’s drinking (and his various attempts to limit/stop it) has been so much better, realistic and helpful than anything that came before. Colorblind takes that another step up, and sets the character on a path that he needs to be on. Jesse’s not a rock, but he’s working on becoming one when it comes to this addiction. I don’t know (don’t want to know) where Coleman is going with this — but I love it. Character growth/development, an actual healthy approach, and Coleman’s own stamp on the series. Even if Jesse relapses in the future, he’s actually been sober (not just taken a break from drinking) — I love it (have I mentioned that?). It may have been a little too on-the-nose to have Jesse’s new AA friend be named Bill, but, it made me smile.

As for the regulars — we’ve got some good use of Healy (retirement can’t stop him!); Lundquist is settling in nicely to this world (very glad about that, I’ve liked him since his intro back that other Parker series, whatever it was called); Molly was outstanding (it’s hard to mis-write Molly, but it’s very nice when it’s done correctly); and Suit is still the guy you want riding shotgun when things get harry (ignoring the fact that someone else was actually carrying the shotgun when it came to it — it’s a metaphor, folks!). Surprisingly enough, given the B-Story, Dix doesn’t make an appearance — but Jesse can’t stop thinking about him, so he’s here, he’s just “offscreen.” That was a nice touch (and hopefully not too much of a spoiler), it’d have been very easy to have almost as much Dix in this book as Jesse. Coleman has not only got the original cast of characters done well, he’s introduced a few of his own regulars and has merged them into this world well (e.g., Mayor Walker, Monty Bernstein). And it’s not just characters he’s blending, this book is full (not overstuffed) of call-backs to the oldest Stone novels as well as Coleman’s — this universe is alive and well and whole.

As far as the writing — it’s Reed Farrel Coleman, I really don’t need to say anything else. I will say a little bit, though, he balances the various stories and tones of these stories well — the book feels like a natural outgrowth of every book that came before, however minor the stylistic choices and depth have changed over the last few years. Parker could have written this. I don’t think (especially in the latter years) he would have, but he could have. Yet, it’s undeniably a Coleman book. It’s impressive the way that Coleman can do this (see almost everyone that’s tried a Bond novel [honestly haven’t tried one in years, maybe someone has], or Robert Goldsborough to see that not everyone is capable of it). There is one moment, I thought, that Coleman faltered a bit and got into some pretty heavy editorializing — if this was a first person book, it would have worked; or if he had been obviously channeling one of the characters, I wouldn’t have said anything; but when your omniscient third-person narrator gets that opinionated, it’s not good.

A solid crime story that resonates near the too-close-for-comfort zone given the cultural events (which probably is how some people felt with 1970’s Parker), some great character development — and plenty of fodder for Coleman’s next (I ignored one storyline above because I don’t think I can talk about it without ruining it). This is a must for Jesse Stone fans and a decent entry point for new readers, too — it’ll get you to go back and read at least a few older books (I’m more than willing to help a new reader with an “Essential Jesse Stone” reading list — just let me know). Give this one a look folks, it deserves it.

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

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4 1/2 Stars

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