Tag: 4 Stars Page 24 of 83

The Case of the Missing Firefly by Chris McDonald: A Locked-Island Mystery

The Case of the Missing Firefly

The Case of the Missing Firefly

by Chris McDonald
Series: The Stonebridge Mysteries, #4

Kindle Edition, 96 pg.
Red Dog Press, 2021

Read: September 24, 2021

What’s The Case of the Missing Firefly About?

What better place than Northern Ireland’s “most haunted” island for a corporate Halloween party? This particular company is a local radio station—their on-air talent is known for heavy drinking, and being on an island (nearly) by themselves should provide a nice, safe environment for the heaviest of drinkers to indulge.

And they’re going to need to drink because they’re all going to get some bad news—and thanks to a bad storm, no one is leaving (or coming to) the island for a day or so.

Stranded with them are our intrepid Sherlock-inspired duo of Adam and Colin. Colin’s mother was the party planner and her tech guy wasn’t available, so these two get a nice payday for a quick job. While these two have matured a bit lately, easy money to mostly hang out in a hotel room where they can watch TV and play video games is worth having to endure a boat ride on choppy waters.

Naturally, because why would I be talking about this otherwise, in the midst of all the drinking and after the bad news—there’s a murder. And a robbery. With all the suspects trapped with them and almost no contact with the outside world, it’s time for Adam and Colin to dust off their Holmes and Watson act.

The Most Satisfying Paragraph of 2021?

People who read a lot—in any genre—are very likely going to see themselves in an observation the narration makes when Adam finds himself in a very tense situation. It was a great little moment, and a nice bonus to read.

It’s a small thing, but it brought a smile to my face. Each of the handful of times I’ve read it.

So, what did I think about The Case of the Missing Firefly?

There was a very somber tone to the first chapter that felt out of character for the series—but I was relieved to see it shift seamlessly into the typical Stonebridge tone in the next chapter as we get into Adam and Colin’s back and forth.

It’s good to see a little bit of the police’s attitude toward our pair—and theirs toward the police. Adam and Colin have a little notoriety—enough that the radio personalities know who they are, so the police certainly do. And, not at all shockingly, they’re not fond of a couple of amateurs making them look bad. Giving the duo a day on their own trapped on an island with the suspects to get a head start on things isn’t going to do much for long-term relations.

It’s hard to say something new about a series as consistent as this—especially with four installments in less than a year. I’m in great danger of repeating myself. So let me keep this short: The Case of the Missing Firefly* is yet another refreshing, fast-paced, and clever dose of cozy crime fiction (even for those who wouldn’t consider themselves cozy readers).

* Which, alas, is not a reference to the SF series—Adam and Colin save their fandom for Cumberbatch/Freeman and sports video games.

Go get your hands on this—and if you haven’t read the rest of the series, you should probably do that, too.


4 Stars

The Path of Faith by Brandon D. Crowe: Covenant and Law for Believers from Genesis to Revelation

The Path of Faith

The Path of Faith:
A Biblical Theology of
Covenant and Law

by Brandon D. Crowe
Series: Essential Studies in Biblical Theology

Paperback, 169 pg.
IVP Academic, 2021

Read: September 12-19, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s The Path of Faith About?

In his Introduction Crowe previews the book as a whole:

The topics of covenant and law are complex and have often been debated, but I’m not interested in getting bogged down in technical debates. Instead, in this book I make four key points.

  1. All people are obligated to obey their Creator.
  2. Though he did not have to, from the beginning God freely entered into a covenant with humanity to offer a reward upon the condition of perfect obedience.
  3. Only Jesus perfectly obeys God’s law, which is necessary for eternal life. Eternal life is granted by grace through faith on the basis of Christ’s work.
  4. Even though we can’t perfectly obey God’s law, the law continues to guide us in how we should live. Obedience to God’s law is still required. And yet obedience is not a burden but the path of blessing.

These are four landmarks to maintain your bearings in the discussion that follows, and they also serve as a handy summary of the book.

From there, the book traces the development of those concepts from Genesis to Revelation and at all points in between—as every book in this series has done/likely will do.

Relation between Old and New Covenant

Obviously, as he’s working through Redemptive History as it progresses, he begins with the Old Covenant—but always keeps the New Covenant in view, as the goal of the Old. I was particularly struck by the way he did this in Chapter 5, “The Prophets: Remind, Reprove, Renew.” I noted a few times how helpful the discussion there was at pointing at the differences between the two covenants, while stressing the continuity of the two.

I didn’t realize (but admittedly should have assumed) that that chapter was merely the foundation for a lot of the chapters to follow—particularly in Chapter 9, “The New Covenant in Practice: Hebrews Through Jude.” Which was just dynamite, and was probably my favorite chapter in the book. It wasn’t necessarily “more practical” than the rest of the book—but its focus on what what The Path of Faith looks like for believers in a post-apostolic age makes it more obviously applicable to contemporary believers.

I should add that a lot of the material in that chapter came from/was similar to Crowe’s The Message of the General Epistles in the History of Redemption: Wisdom from James, Peter, John, and Jude—and I feel compelled to recommend that book at this time (I didn’t do a post on it when I read it back in 2015, or I’d point you to that).

Revelation

Revelation fittingly concludes the biblical canon by echoing earlier Scripture, highlighting the completed work of Christ and sketching a vision for the future. Revelation wrestles with the ambiguities and difficulties of this age but doesn’t leave the plot dangling. Revelation proclaims that Christ rules, and his people will be vindicated. Revelation is an immensely practical book that provides guidance for living today.

That last sentence is going to strike more than a few readers as odd—but it shouldn’t. While the previous chapter was my favorite, this one took a lot more thought and reflection—and was more striking for me. Believers in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries are not used to reading Revelation for reasons other than “cracking the code” and figuring out the eschatological message of the book. Which isn’t to say that’s not important—but as Crowe argues, the book is more practical than that.

It’s crucial that we recognize and heed Revelation’s calls to faithfulness in life. We go astray if we think of Revelation as a fatalistic book of predictions. Revelation does not teach us to shut our eyes and sing, Que Será, Será (“whatever will be, will be”). Instead, Revelation provides motivation for faithful covenant living in the present, in light of God’s promises about the future.

This means Revelation is not only about the future; it’s about the entire age of the church, from the first coming of Christ to his second coming. It doesn’t focus only on the last few years of world history; it’s about every era of the church’s history. It’s about things that are persistently true. As one helpful book on Revelation puts the matter, “[Revelation] is a book for every age. It is always up to date.”

Given that reminder about the purpose of Revelation, Crowe’s able to point to the call for faithfulness, the motivations to perverse and the promise of the consummation of the covenants at the end.

So, what did I think about The Path of Faith?

It has been a while since I’ve read a book in this series—primarily because the outline was getting a bit repetitive, and it was causing me to glaze over a bit. It’s been long enough and (based solely on recollection without looking at a prior volume to compare) I think Crowe approaches it with a just-noticeable tweak to the standard outline that I was able to appreciate what he was saying without struggling to differentiate this work from the others.

Even without that gap for myself, I found this to be one of the (if not the) strongest volumes in the series—Crowe is able to deliver on explaining his summary from the introduction, explaining and expanding on them in each era of Redemptive History so that those of us living in the New Covenant age can profit from what was written for our benefit in the Old and seeing what our Covenant Head accomplished for us and for our salvation.

This is a great work on the ideas of Covenant and Law and I strongly encourage you to give it a read.


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: Stalker Stalked by Lee Matthew Goldberg: Who Watches the Watchers? Who Stalks the Stalkers?

Stalker Stalked

Stalker Stalked

by Lee Matthew Goldberg

eARC, 245 pg.
All Due Respect, 2021

Read: September 7, 2021

What’s Stalker Stalked About?

Lexi Mazur is a pharmaceutical sales rep who has a habit of sampling her products in addition to drinking pretty heavily. When her boyfriend of about a year breaks up with her, things get worse. Her pill uptake and drinking increase, and she escapes into Reality Shows like The Real Housewives of ______, and her new obsession (literally), Socialites. She’d been heavily invested in those shows before—it was a bone of contention with her ex—but she sunk to pathological levels after the break-up.

Soon, Lexi begins showing up at locations that she knows one or more of the stars of Socialites will be, trying to put herself in a situation where their paths will cross, in the belief that it’s all it will take for them to befriend her. Once they’re friends, her life will improve and she’ll get a bit of the glamorous life they have—maybe even a role in the show.

She has some reason to think that this behavior will work—it has been the foundation (and eventual doom) of her romantic relationships.

Yeah, Lexi is a stalker—she just has a new outlet for these impulses. Her behavior and substance abuse spiral to new depths. We get some details about her prior issues and behaviors, but the novel primarily documents her descent to rock bottom.

That would be enough for most authors, but here’s where Goldberg throws in the plotline that makes Stalker Stalked stand out. In the midst of all the above, Lexi starts to sense that someone is watching her. Stalking her. Is it one of her exes? Is it someone from Socialites? Is it just her imagination, maybe a side-effect of some of the medication she’s abusing?

And then the threats begin…

Low-Hanging Fruit?

Lexi’s story aside (as much as you can do that kind of thing in this book), this book is a sharp satire and critique of TV Reality Shows.

As I read it, I wondered occasionally about Goldberg picking a target that’s too easy. Where’s the challenge in taking shots at Reality Shows?

As easy a target they might be, it’s a target that seems to demand this kind of attention and examination. The cultural impact of this kind of shows—and the social media influencer accounts (and wanna-be social media accounts) that tell the same kind of fictions—is large enough, disturbing enough, that we need as many artists in as many possible media to put them under the microscope.

Looking at this phenomenon through Goldberg’s lens something jumps out at me (and I realize that I’m probably fifteen years behind other people on this insight), this kind of reality shows provide a socially acceptable form of stalking for the masses. How many people think they’re getting a special kind of insight into the lives of these stars? A special, private, view of their day-to-day life? How many unbalanced viewers like Lexi are out there learning that this is an appropriate way to live and take the license to do the same but for people who aren’t on TV?

So, what did I think about Stalker Stalked?

I didn’t like Lexi—at all—for the majority of the novel. I wouldn’t have described myself as terribly invested in what was going on with her or in her well-being. She’s just unsympathetic, unpleasant—the kind of character that most novels would have cast as the villain (one you may ultimately find sympathy for).

As much as I wasn’t able to get invested in her as a character, I couldn’t stop reading. Something about the novel—and I really should be able to put my finger on what it was, but I can’t—gripped me like a Lee Child or Nick Petrie thriller. Compelling doesn’t quite express it—I had to know what was coming next. Lexi was like the proverbial car wreck that you can’t take your eyes off of. Also, I was pretty curious about some of the people around Lexi, how were they going to fare in the face of her problems.

Eventually, however, I started pitying Lexi. I started understanding how she got where she is and how she was tumbling toward rock bottom.

Stalker Stalked is a gripping read, a tragedy that you can’t look away from—that you can’t get enough of. It’s disturbing and thought-provoking. You’re going to want to get your hands on it.


4 Stars

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Down & Out Press via NetGalley and Lori Hettler of The Next Best Book Club in exchange for this post—thanks to all of them for this.

Stalker Stalked by Lee Matthew Goldberg: Who Watches the Watchers? Who Stalks the Stalkers?

Stalker Stalked

Stalker Stalked

by Lee Matthew Goldberg

eARC, 245 pg.
All Due Respect, 2021

Read: September 7, 2021

What’s Stalker Stalked About?

Lexi Mazur is a pharmaceutical sales rep who has a habit of sampling her products in addition to drinking pretty heavily. When her boyfriend of about a year breaks up with her, things get worse. Her pill uptake and drinking increase, and she escapes into Reality Shows like The Real Housewives of ______, and her new obsession (literally), Socialites. She’d been heavily invested in those shows before—it was a bone of contention with her ex—but she sunk to pathological levels after the break-up.

Soon, Lexi begins showing up at locations that she knows one or more of the stars of Socialites will be, trying to put herself in a situation where their paths will cross, in the belief that it’s all it will take for them to befriend her. Once they’re friends, her life will improve and she’ll get a bit of the glamorous life they have—maybe even a role in the show.

She has some reason to think that this behavior will work—it has been the foundation (and eventual doom) of her romantic relationships.

Yeah, Lexi is a stalker—she just has a new outlet for these impulses. Her behavior and substance abuse spiral to new depths. We get some details about her prior issues and behaviors, but the novel primarily documents her descent to rock bottom.

That would be enough for most authors, but here’s where Goldberg throws in the plotline that makes Stalker Stalked stand out. In the midst of all the above, Lexi starts to sense that someone is watching her. Stalking her. Is it one of her exes? Is it someone from Socialites? Is it just her imagination, maybe a side-effect of some of the medication she’s abusing?

And then the threats begin…

Low-Hanging Fruit?

Lexi’s story aside (as much as you can do that kind of thing in this book), this book is a sharp satire and critique of TV Reality Shows.

As I read it, I wondered occasionally about Goldberg picking a target that’s too easy. Where’s the challenge in taking shots at Reality Shows?

As easy a target they might be, it’s a target that seems to demand this kind of attention and examination. The cultural impact of this kind of shows—and the social media influencer accounts (and wanna-be social media accounts) that tell the same kind of fictions—is large enough, disturbing enough, that we need as many artists in as many possible media to put them under the microscope.

Looking at this phenomenon through Goldberg’s lens something jumps out at me (and I realize that I’m probably fifteen years behind other people on this insight), this kind of reality shows provide a socially acceptable form of stalking for the masses. How many people think they’re getting a special kind of insight into the lives of these stars? A special, private, view of their day-to-day life? How many unbalanced viewers like Lexi are out there learning that this is an appropriate way to live and take the license to do the same but for people who aren’t on TV?

So, what did I think about Stalker Stalked?

I didn’t like Lexi—at all—for the majority of the novel. I wouldn’t have described myself as terribly invested in what was going on with her or in her well-being. She’s just unsympathetic, unpleasant—the kind of character that most novels would have cast as the villain (one you may ultimately find sympathy for).

As much as I wasn’t able to get invested in her as a character, I couldn’t stop reading. Something about the novel—and I really should be able to put my finger on what it was, but I can’t—gripped me like a Lee Child or Nick Petrie thriller. Compelling doesn’t quite express it—I had to know what was coming next. Lexi was like the proverbial car wreck that you can’t take your eyes off of. Also, I was pretty curious about some of the people around Lexi, how were they going to fare in the face of her problems.

Eventually, however, I started pitying Lexi. I started understanding how she got where she is and how she was tumbling toward rock bottom.

Stalker Stalked is a gripping read, a tragedy that you can’t look away from—that you can’t get enough of. It’s disturbing and thought-provoking. You’re going to want to get your hands on it.


4 Stars

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Down & Out Press via NetGalley and Lori Hettler of The Next Best Book Club in exchange for this post—thanks to all of them for this.

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.

The Person of Christ: An Introduction by Stephen Wellum: Scriptural and Historical Perspectives on Christ

The Person of Christ:
An Introduction

The Person of Christ: An Introduction

by Stephen Wellum
Series: Short Studies in Systematic Theology

Paperwork, 180 pg.
Crossway, 2021

Read: August 29, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

Thinking through all chat Scripture says about Jesus and wrestling with the church as she has sought to faithfully confess Christ is not an easy task, but it’s absolutely necessary, especially if we are going to think rightly about God, the gospel, and the entire Christian faith, The study of Christology is not reserved for academic theologians; it’s the privilege, responsibility, and the glory of every Christian.

What’s The Person of Christ: An Introduction About?

In this installment of Short Studies in Systematic Theology, Wellum examines the doctrine of the Incarnation, the Second Person of the Trinity, and the Divinity of Jesus.

He spends four chapters opening the Scriptural testimony concerning Christ and the Incarnation. Then he looks at the development of the Church’s teaching and doctrinal formulation from an historical perspective—pre-Chalcedon, post-Chalcedon, and then contemporary issues. Finally, he gives a couple of chapters of theological reflection and summary.

The Strengths of the Book

I really appreciated most of the book, but two chapters, in particular, stood out to me—Chapter 2, “The Identity of Christ from the Bible’s Storyline” and Chapter 8, “Jesus as God the Son Incarnate.”

Chapter 2 lies the foundation for the next two chapters of the consideration of Christ as presented in the New Testament by examining the storyline of the Old Testament starting with Creation, the Fall, and then seeing how the Law and Prophets point to the coming Messiah.

Chapter 8 draws the testimony of Scripture and the formulations of the creeds, confessions, and theology of The Church throughout history into ten doctrinal statements explaining the essential elements of Jesus’ identity and the doctrine of the Incarnation.

The call to action in the last chapter, “Recovering the Centrality of Christ.” is a great conclusion—something that not every entry in the series has had, but is a welcome presence, and does a good job of wrapping up the book, summing up the high points and pointing the reader to application.

As One of the Short Studies in Systematic Theology

Of the four entries in this series that I’ve read this is the least accessible overall—most of the book is just fine on that front. A large part of that less-than-accessibleness comes from the fact that this appears to be a shorter version of Wellum’s 2016 book, God the Son Incarnate: The Doctrine of Christ. Assuming I’m right about that, he should’ve edited a bit more for this. Part of the first chapter (“Approaching Scripture on Its Own Terms to Identify Christ”) and most, if not all, of the seventh (” Current Challenges to Christological Orthodoxy”) seem unnecessarily technical, and possibly beyond the Introductory nature of this series.

I’m not saying they’re completely inaccessible to laity, but they felt out of place for both the series and the rest of the book. Maybe it was just my mood or attention span as I read it, but those parts of the book in particular, bugged me.

So, what did I think about The Person of Christ: An Introduction?

Overall, I liked it—I do think it would’ve been stronger without the chapters I mentioned in the previous section (or just with them reworked). But pushing that aside—this is an important entry in the series and focuses on things that too often get ignored.

I appreciated this entry in the series, but do hope the next entry I read is a little more in line with the others. Still, get your hands on this—what it does right is very good, and the rest isn’t bad, either.


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.

Love by Roddy Doyle: Pull Up a Stool, Order a Pint, Listen In on This Conversation

Love

Love

by Roddy Doyle

Hardcover, 327 pg.
Viking, 2020

Read: August 19-20, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

—Well, that was how it felt, he said. —Like we’d never been apart.

—But—.

—I know, he said. —I know. We’d never been much together. But I’m talking about feelings here, not facts. Feelings. The feel of the thing.

It sounded like something he’d said before. More than once.

What’s Love About?

Joe and Davy are men in their 50s—in their 20s, they were drinking buddies, spending every weekend together at as many Dublin pubs as they possibly could. Eventually, they grew out of it. Davy moved to England with his wife. Joe settled down, too.

Now they see each other once or twice a year when Davy comes over to visit his father. It’s really the only time Davy drinks anymore. And, boy howdy, do they drink a lot.

This novel takes place over the course of one night/early morning, starting after dinner when they have a couple of drinks. Joe has a story he wants to tell Davy, he needs to unburden himself. Davy has something he needs to talk about, too, but he won’t let himself.

And that’s the novel—the two going from pub to pub, having a couple of drinks, and moving on. Sometimes out of choice, sometimes because they got a little too loud and are asked to leave. They walk a bit, sober up a touch (while continuing their conversation), and find a new pub to have a pint or two in before being asked to leave.

And if that doesn’t sound that interesting to you, have you ever listened to a couple of Irish people telling stories?

The Title

In the cleverly titled book, The Four Loves, C. S. Lewis posits that there are four different types of love and spends some time describing each.* Others have come up with different numbers, different categories. Which is just to say that the concept of “love” is a tricky one to nail down. To borrow Justice Stewart’s phrase, most of us know it when we see it, and most of us settle for that.

* It’s beside the point, but I feel compelled to list them: Affection (storge), Friendship (philia), Romantic (eros), Charity (agape).

All this is to say, it’s really impossible to know precisely what the title refers to—there are several types of love displayed in this book, and I can see some people trying to argue for which one is most fitting.

After a little thought, I’ve decided that Doyle is referring to them all (and I don’t think that’s a cop-out). It’s about two men struggling—and aided by several of the pints in the cover image—to find ways to talk about love.

Feelings

There is a reason why men don’t talk about their feelings. It’s not just that it’s difficult, or embarrassing. It’s almost impossible. The words aren’t really there

That’s from the beginning of the book, Davy’s narration noting the difficulty that Joe’s having getting his story started. It’s seen a few times after that (I should point out that at least Joe is trying, Davy’s avoiding it entirely).

Which is where beer comes in, I guess. Joe never quite expresses himself the way he wants—Davy doesn’t help that much, really—but he gets asymptotically close. The number of pints they consume to get him to the point where he gets close is enough to make my liver sick. Part of the enjoyment of this novel is watching these two try to get the words right.

—The drink is funny, though, isn’t it? You see things clearly but then you can’t get at the words to express them properly.

—Or somethin’.

—Or somethin’, yeah.

Conventional wisdom suggests that two women wouldn’t need that much alcohol—or any, really—to achieve the same ends, if not do a better job of expressing and understanding the emotions being discussed. I expect that wisdom is right (but wouldn’t die on that hill)—and the ensuing novel might be less entertaining. Still, I’d like to see someone give it a shot.

So, what did I think about Love?

—It’s a thing abou’ gettin’ older, he said. —At least, I suppose it is. So many memories, you know. It become, harder to separate wha’ happened from wha’ might’ye happened an’ wha’ didn’t happen but kind o’ seemed to.

He was looking at me.

—Is it? he asked.

—Is memory reliable? I said. —Is that wha’ you mean?

—I think so, yeah. yeah.

This is a novel about love—obviously—and old friends, memory, nostalgia, the power of reminiscing, aging, dealing with the past (whether it happened or not), family, forgiveness, trust…and a few more things, too. All discussed in the story that Joe’s telling and the stories that Davy isn’t telling.

When I read this in a couple of years, it wouldn’t surprise me if I come up with a different list of subjects.

But in a sense, it really doesn’t matter what you think the novel is about—it can be enjoyed and chewed on just with the surface. A couple of old friends talking.

Doyle’s dialogue is as strong as it ever was. The dialect makes it jump off the page, you don’t so much read this book as hear it with your eyes.* It is funny, it is tragic, it’s heartbreaking, it’s wistful, and occasionally silly. It runs the gamut—both for the characters and the reader.

* Yeah, I know, I know. Roll with it, will you?

If you haven’t read Doyle before—this is a pretty good ice-breaker. If you know his work, this is exactly what you expect (a little closer to the feel of The Barrytown Trilogy than A Star Called Henry or Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha). His idiosyncratic punctuation and approach to dialogue tags and paragraphs might cause you to stumble at first—but once you catch on, you won’t even notice it.

It’s like you’re sitting there on a night on the town with these two, just catching up with old friends and enjoying the conversation with them (even if you’re not holding up your end). And who doesn’t think that sounds like a fun time?


4 Stars

20 Books of Summer '21

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.

REPOSTING JUST CUZ: The Ninja Daughter by Tori Eldridge: The Norwegian-Chinese Ninja Hero You Never Realized You Needed in Your Life

I’m stumbling over myself trying to write my post about the sequel, The Ninja’s Blade–seriously, I’ve tossed out the first paragraph 5 times so far. So, as has been my habit of late, I’m reposting what I said about the previous book in its stead. If you haven’t looked into this yet, maybe this’ll prompt you to do that (while I hope it prompts me to finish the post on the sequel)


The Ninja Daughter

The Ninja Daughter

by Tori Eldridge
Series: Lily Wong, #1

Paperback, 300 pg.
Agora Books, 2019

Read: August 21-22, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s The Ninja Daughter About?

Lily Wong’s nickname is Dumpling, and like that food, there’s a lot hidden underneath the surface.

For starters, there’s the fact that she trained extensively in martial arts—more than her parents realized—growing up. Then there’s the fact that she (in her mind, at least) let her sister down the night that her sister was sexually assaulted and murdered. Which fuels the last hidden part of her life—she uses her guilt and need for vengeance to fuel her utilization of those martial arts skills to be a kunoichi—a female ninja—to help women and children who are the victims of abuse while she hunts for her sister’s killer. Her parents only know she does IT work from home.

When the book opens she’s trying to help a Ukrainian immigrant woman and her son get away from her abusive husband (who brags about his criminal connections), but that’s not going too well. To distract her self from the lack of success there, she takes up the cause of a waitress who’d been attacked in her home by a customer. The judge tossed the case based on insufficient evidence following weeks of the waitress being victim shamed through the media (traditional and social).

Lily decides that this waitress needs a big sister to look out for her and appoints herself to fill that role. She does this by doing what she can to keep Mia safe and then to investigate the guy she pressed charges against. This leads her into a murky world of government contracts, real estate, organized crime, and murder.

You Know Who Lily Reminds Me Of?

Part of it’s the city of L.A., part of it’s the female action-hero vibe, the one woman against the world kind of thing. Part of it is ineffable. But I couldn’t help but think of Cas Russell (of Zero Sum Game and Null Set) and Teagan Frost (of The Girl Who Could Move Sh*t with Her Mind) as I read this book.

Sure, Lily’s more grounded than either of them, she has no real powers other than those that are the result of years of training and practice. Theoretically, everything that Lily does in this book Tori Eldridge is (or at least was at one point) capable of doing herself—and a lot of what Cas and Teagan do are purely the stuff of fiction. Still, I’m probably going to lump the three of them together in my mind for some time to come.

The biggest difference between them is that Lily knows just who she is and where she comes from—her family is strong, affectionate (in their way), and supportive. She may have friends to augment that core support, but they’re not everything she has. This makes her a bit more stable and capable of dealing with challenges that come than the others.

(and, yeah, I thought of Lydia Chin and her mother every time Lily and her Ma interacted, but that’s a whole other can of worms).

The Food

There’s food all over this book. Lily’s father owns and runs a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. The woman that runs the shelter she works with cooks amazing sounding soul food. The meals she eats with her family and on her own sound amazing. Spenser and Elvis Cole may know their way around a kitchen, but Lily Wong knows her way around some fantastic restaurants in L.A. She’s so far ahead of the game than Kinsey Milhone’s lousy sandwiches and Hungarian food that it’s hard to believe they’re in the same genre.

Do not read this book if you’re peckish. Keep yourself fed well, or you’re going to be snacking far too much.

Lily’s Heritage

It’s that family makes Lily who she is. In these three hundred pages, we hear more about Lily’s grandparents and parents than I’m used to hearing about a protagonist’s family over several books. Particularly when we’re talking about an action hero.

Eldridge has given Lily the same heritage that she has—a Norwegian father from North Dakota and a Chinese mother. So Eldridge knows the special kind of alchemy that the mixture of the two cultures produces.

The Important Word in the Title

Obviously, it’s Ninja that draws your attention and is the memorable takeaway, but as you can tell, it’s Daughter that colors the whole book. It’s Lily’s interactions with her parents, her application of the way they raised her and still care for her, the way she draws on what they teach and tell her that defines her and proves to be the key to figuring out what’s going on in the book.

So, what did I think about The Ninja Daughter?

If you want to ignore the deeper stuff and enjoy a book about a determined young woman out for vengeance (presumptive and by proxy, as it often is) on the streets of Los Angeles, this book will do the trick.

If you want a rounded, complex, female character trying to figure out how to deal with personal guilt, and trauma while helping out women and children by any means necessary, this book will do the trick, too. The idea that she may be starting to figure out a way past the guilt and move into healing and happiness* makes that all the better.

* Sure, I realize that within the first fifty pages of the sequel, all that can go away. The important thing is that it was there

You could make the case that Philip Marlowe was Chandler’s attempt at telling the story of a knight errant in early-twentieth-century L.A. Lily’s in the same vein—just a little more modern (and, ironically enough, using an older kind of warrior). Eldridge’s L.A. has slightly nicer mean streets, but they’re just as deadly and are in just as much need for a hero. I hope we get to see her at work for quite some time.


4 Stars

20 Books of Summer

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.

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