Tag: Jesse Stone Page 1 of 3

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.

The Friday 56 for 9/11/20

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from page 56 of:
Fool's Paradise

Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise by Mike Lupica

They caught one small break. There turned out to be security footage in Marshport of Paul coming out of the First Episcopal Church on Saturday night. Jesse had called the chief there, Captain John Kyle, who told Jesse they had a camera set up at one of their new substations across the street. The picture of Paul’s face was clear enough that Jesse allowed Nellie Shofner to put it up on the Crier website on Wednesday night. Trying to make something happen. Get them in the game.

Now it was Thursday afternoon, and they still had no hits from any of the agencies Molly and Suit had contacted. No missing-persons report filed on a white male in the whole state since Sunday.

“We’re reaching the point where we may need some help from the universe,” Molly said.

“Is there a number we can call for that?” Jesse said.

“On it,” Molly said.

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: Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match by Mike Lupica: Sunny Randall’s Forced to Work for an Enemy as Lupica Settles into the Series

Grudge Match

Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match

by Mike Lupica
Series: Sunny Randall, #8

eARC, 210 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

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


As I said last year when Lupica debuted his continuation of the Sunny Randall books with Blood Feud, I’ve had a complicated relationship with Sunny and was ambivalent with the series re-starting. However, I enjoyed Blood Feud (although comments on my post said I came across as lukewarm, I didn’t mean to) and really thought that Lupica had a good take on the character.

Thankfully, we don’t have a sophomore slump here, I think Lupica’s feeling more comfortable in these shoes and delivered something a little more ambitious. Tony Marcus begins this book by describing the best way to hold a grudge—and then goes on to point out all the reasons Sunny has recently given him to hold one against her. If nothing else is clear from this, you do not want Marcus harboring anything for you. He does this just to impress upon Sunny that his offer of employment is something she should strongly consider.

Tony’s lover, confidante, right hand, and former employee has left him. Without warning, without notice—and Tony wants her back. He’s not that concerned for her safety, he’s a little concerned that she defected to some new competition for his turf, but mostly he just wants to know what happened and how he can win her back. Sunny (and this reader) is fairly convinced by Marcus—she doesn’t think Marcus wants to hurt her, he just wants her back. Sunny hems and haws, but agrees to take on the case—for her own safety and because she’s able to convince herself that she’s actually working for Lisa Morneau, not Marcus.

This puts her on a path to explore the world of prostitution in Boston—this isn’t the first time Sunny’s done something like this, but this time she’s working for Marcus, which opens a few more doors. She meets with Lisa’s closest friend, someone she helped get out of the life, as well as former colleagues. Sunny also has several run-ins with Marcus’s new competitor, who seems like he’s wanting to start a war with him.

At some point, the trail leads to Paradise—leading to Sunny meeting up with Jesse Stone. The two banter and flirt a bit, and Jesse offers some help on the Paradise front. It was nice to see them together again (I’ve often thought the best use of the Sunny character was as Stone’s associate).

Now, it’s not long before the search for Lisa results in murder—and Lisa herself is frightened, sure that she’s next. Which drives Sunny to start to look into why would someone want to threaten her. What does Lisa know that makes her dangerous? And can Sunny use this knowledge to save Lisa and prevent the gang war on the verge of erupting?

While that’s going on Richie’s (other) ex-wife moves back to Boston with their son, Richard, and now wants Richie to play the role in Richard’s life that she’d previously blocked him from. Richie responds as any father worthy of the title would—he’s overjoyed and turns his life upside down to accommodate that without a second thought. Sunny recognizes that this is the way he should react, but can’t quite get on board with it herself in the same way—for a combination of reasons, some petty, some understandable (maybe some fit under both columns). It’s a dicey story for all characters involved and Lupica deals with it well.

Lupica goes out of his way to make sure it’s obvious that this takes place in the Parker-verse outside of Paradise. Of course, Sunny sees her therapist, Susan Silverman; Sunny consults Lee Farrell a few times (nice to see him again) and they talk about Frank Belson once or twice (the new captain, too); Vinne Morris pops in briefly; there’s a mention of Patricia Utley, and something Tony Marcus says places this at the same time as Angel Eyes. That’s nice and pretty fun, but he’s almost name-dropping enough to make him seem desperate to prove his legitimacy as a Parker fan. “No, really, I’m qualified to write these books, let me show you how familiar I am with all the series.” I think Atkins came close to this in his first two Spenser books, Coleman in his first Jesse Stone, so it’s not unique to Lupica. Also, he doesn’t get to the point of desperation, but he’s close—if he can just dial that back a bit now, he’s proved himself.

Feel free to skip this paragraph, I dance right down the border of The Spoiler Zone (and might put a couple of toes into it). My gut reaction to the way things were left with the Richie/Richard storyline is pretty negative. It’s hard to get into without spoiling things, but…Richie reacted irrationally to things given his family and who he knows Sunny is, and Sunny took the easy way out with things (Susan Silverman would not approve—if she let herself approve/disapprove of Sunny’s actions). Now, this doesn’t mean that Lupica fell down in the writing—he’s actually writing the characters the way they were created, flaws and all. I’d like to see some growth in the characters and we didn’t get that yet—but that could be because he’s setting things up for future books. Or, he could be letting these two stagnate where they are (see Parker’s treatment of Stone in the later books).

Sunny has a good deal of internal discussion about how she’s finding herself in the situations she’s facing because of decisions men have reached, and not herself—she’s reacting too much to men’s choices. She resolves not to be the threatened, but to be the one threatening. I think there’s a lot of merit to these lines of thinking—but she seems to go through this (or something pretty close to it) in every book (by Lupica or Parker). At some point, it’d be nice to see her move past this—or add some nuance or wisdom to this consideration.

Lupica keeps things moving throughout—even when Sunny’s investigation starts going in circles, the plot keeps going. He writes confidently and with just enough flair to make this fit in the Parker-verse. There’s a joke or two that he returns to too often, but it feels in-character for Sunny’s narration to do that, so I’m not complaining.

The last line…I’m not going to say anything about it, but I could fill an entire post with what I like about it, what it makes me fear, and how I should’ve seen it as inevitable. But… I’m not going to say anything about it because I don’t play that way. Feel free to talk about it in the comments after the book comes out, though.

So, I have a lot to say about this, it turns out—but it boils down to this: Grudge Match was a fast, easy read—the plot and the prose were as smooth as you could want. Lupica has captured the voice of the Sunny Randall books and has made it his own. While I was bothered by a couple of the character beats toward the end—they didn’t take away from my enjoyment of the book. If you’re a Sunny fan, you’ll be entertained. This actually would work as a pretty decent entry point to the series, too—it’s pretty accessible (including the ongoing arcs, Lupica makes sure that people who are new to the series or haven’t read them since the last Parker in ’07 have enough information to tap into them).

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


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, opinions are my own.

Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match by Mike Lupica: Sunny Randall’s Forced to Work for an Enemy as Lupica Settles into the Series

Grudge Match

Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match

by Mike Lupica
Series: Sunny Randall, #8

eARC, 210 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

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


As I said last year when Lupica debuted his continuation of the Sunny Randall books with Blood Feud, I’ve had a complicated relationship with Sunny and was ambivalent with the series re-starting. However, I enjoyed Blood Feud (although comments on my post said I came across as lukewarm, I didn’t mean to) and really thought that Lupica had a good take on the character.

Thankfully, we don’t have a sophomore slump here, I think Lupica’s feeling more comfortable in these shoes and delivered something a little more ambitious. Tony Marcus begins this book by describing the best way to hold a grudge—and then goes on to point out all the reasons Sunny has recently given him to hold one against her. If nothing else is clear from this, you do not want Marcus harboring anything for you. He does this just to impress upon Sunny that his offer of employment is something she should strongly consider.

Tony’s lover, confidante, right hand, and former employee has left him. Without warning, without notice—and Tony wants her back. He’s not that concerned for her safety, he’s a little concerned that she defected to some new competition for his turf, but mostly he just wants to know what happened and how he can win her back. Sunny (and this reader) is fairly convinced by Marcus—she doesn’t think Marcus wants to hurt her, he just wants her back. Sunny hems and haws, but agrees to take on the case—for her own safety and because she’s able to convince herself that she’s actually working for Lisa Morneau, not Marcus.

This puts her on a path to explore the world of prostitution in Boston—this isn’t the first time Sunny’s done something like this, but this time she’s working for Marcus, which opens a few more doors. She meets with Lisa’s closest friend, someone she helped get out of the life, as well as former colleagues. Sunny also has several run-ins with Marcus’s new competitor, who seems like he’s wanting to start a war with him.

At some point, the trail leads to Paradise—leading to Sunny meeting up with Jesse Stone. The two banter and flirt a bit, and Jesse offers some help on the Paradise front. It was nice to see them together again (I’ve often thought the best use of the Sunny character was as Stone’s associate).

Now, it’s not long before the search for Lisa results in murder—and Lisa herself is frightened, sure that she’s next. Which drives Sunny to start to look into why would someone want to threaten her. What does Lisa know that makes her dangerous? And can Sunny use this knowledge to save Lisa and prevent the gang war on the verge of erupting?

While that’s going on Richie’s (other) ex-wife moves back to Boston with their son, Richard, and now wants Richie to play the role in Richard’s life that she’d previously blocked him from. Richie responds as any father worthy of the title would—he’s overjoyed and turns his life upside down to accommodate that without a second thought. Sunny recognizes that this is the way he should react, but can’t quite get on board with it herself in the same way—for a combination of reasons, some petty, some understandable (maybe some fit under both columns). It’s a dicey story for all characters involved and Lupica deals with it well.

Lupica goes out of his way to make sure it’s obvious that this takes place in the Parker-verse outside of Paradise. Of course, Sunny sees her therapist, Susan Silverman; Sunny consults Lee Farrell a few times (nice to see him again) and they talk about Frank Belson once or twice (the new captain, too); Vinne Morris pops in briefly; there’s a mention of Patricia Utley, and something Tony Marcus says places this at the same time as Angel Eyes. That’s nice and pretty fun, but he’s almost name-dropping enough to make him seem desperate to prove his legitimacy as a Parker fan. “No, really, I’m qualified to write these books, let me show you how familiar I am with all the series.” I think Atkins came close to this in his first two Spenser books, Coleman in his first Jesse Stone, so it’s not unique to Lupica. Also, he doesn’t get to the point of desperation, but he’s close—if he can just dial that back a bit now, he’s proved himself.

Feel free to skip this paragraph, I dance right down the border of The Spoiler Zone (and might put a couple of toes into it). My gut reaction to the way things were left with the Richie/Richard storyline is pretty negative. It’s hard to get into without spoiling things, but…Richie reacted irrationally to things given his family and who he knows Sunny is, and Sunny took the easy way out with things (Susan Silverman would not approve—if she let herself approve/disapprove of Sunny’s actions). Now, this doesn’t mean that Lupica fell down in the writing—he’s actually writing the characters the way they were created, flaws and all. I’d like to see some growth in the characters and we didn’t get that yet—but that could be because he’s setting things up for future books. Or, he could be letting these two stagnate where they are (see Parker’s treatment of Stone in the later books).

Sunny has a good deal of internal discussion about how she’s finding herself in the situations she’s facing because of decisions men have reached, and not herself—she’s reacting too much to men’s choices. She resolves not to be the threatened, but to be the one threatening. I think there’s a lot of merit to these lines of thinking—but she seems to go through this (or something pretty close to it) in every book (by Lupica or Parker). At some point, it’d be nice to see her move past this—or add some nuance or wisdom to this consideration.

Lupica keeps things moving throughout—even when Sunny’s investigation starts going in circles, the plot keeps going. He writes confidently and with just enough flair to make this fit in the Parker-verse. There’s a joke or two that he returns to too often, but it feels in-character for Sunny’s narration to do that, so I’m not complaining.

The last line…I’m not going to say anything about it, but I could fill an entire post with what I like about it, what it makes me fear, and how I should’ve seen it as inevitable. But… I’m not going to say anything about it because I don’t play that way. Feel free to talk about it in the comments after the book comes out, though.

So, I have a lot to say about this, it turns out—but it boils down to this: Grudge Match was a fast, easy read—the plot and the prose were as smooth as you could want. Lupica has captured the voice of the Sunny Randall books and has made it his own. While I was bothered by a couple of the character beats toward the end—they didn’t take away from my enjoyment of the book. If you’re a Sunny fan, you’ll be entertained. This actually would work as a pretty decent entry point to the series, too—it’s pretty accessible (including the ongoing arcs, Lupica makes sure that people who are new to the series or haven’t read them since the last Parker in ’07 have enough information to tap into them).

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


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, 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

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