Okay, if you want to know what I thought about the novel as a whole, click here. Or scroll past this post to the next one. I keep a hard no-spoiler rule around here, but I had to get something off my chest…
Robert B. Parker’s Revenge Tourby Mike Lupica
DETAILS: Series: Sunny Randall, #10 Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons Publication Date: May 2, 2022 Format: Hardcover Length: 319 pg. Read Date: May 9-10
Seriously, don’t read on if you’re spoiler-phobic.
Robert B. Parker’s Revenge Tourby Mike Lupica
DETAILS: Series: Sunny Randall, #10 Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons Publication Date: May 2, 2022 Format: Hardcover Length: 319 pg. Read Date: May 9-10
Back in book 3, Shrink Rap,* Sunny Randall helped protect best-selling author Melanie Joan Hall from her stalker ex-husband. He ended up in prison by the end and Melanie Joan and Sunny have remained close—Sunny has spent a few years living in her home, in fact, as Melanie Joan’s now based in California.
* Thanks to the magic of Fiction, that was 2002. I’m not exactly sure how few years are supposed to have passed between books 3 and 10, but I know it’s not 20.
Now she’s back in Boston, preparing to shoot a Netflix series based on her Romance series. She’s been wildly successful already, but this is set to make Melanie Joan Hall huge. Naturally, this kind of attention is bringing out enemies—including one who claims that the novel that started it all was plagiarized. Sunny needs to track down this anonymous accuser, quickly and quietly.
Meanwhile, Sunny’s dad, Phil, could use a little help. Years before he retired, he arrested the son of a prominent defense lawyer and helped ensure he served a long sentence. That son was just killed in prison, and the lawyer is harassing and threatening Phil. Sunny and Lee Farrell team up to help Phil.
Sunny gets some evidence that causes her to give credence to the claims against Melanie Joan, and their relationship is strained. Then people close to Melanie Joan start being murdered because Sunny doesn’t have enough going on. So, she has to clear Melanie Joan (or definitively establish her guilt), keep her safe, find out who is behind the plagiarism and/or murders, and keep her father alive while stopping this lawyer. Sunny’s going to need all her allies—and get a few new ones—to accomplish this To-Do list and get out of this alive.
One of the people with the biggest grudges against Melanie Joan is her ex-husband, serving a life sentence for his crimes against Melanie Joan, Sunny, and Richie. Sunny travels to the prison to see if he might behind this all. In fact, he knows a disturbing amount about Melanie Joan, Sunny, Richie, Jesse Stone(!), and the threats against her father. I should probably mention that recently, Melvin was represented by the same lawyer currently harassing Phil.
I remember less than nothing about John Melvin—it’s probably been 15+ years since I re-read Shrink Rap last. But based on what Lupica does with him he’s easily in the top 5 creepiest characters in the Parkerverse. And Lupica uses him as much as he can in this book. (but wisely not over-much) Why is it psychologists make the best bad guys? (see also Thomas Harris, Dennis Lehane, and a couple of other examples that will pop into my mind about 30 seconds after I publish this but that I can’t think of now)
But before John Melvin, Melanie Joan had another husband—he was her writing professor in college (feel free to cringe at that, Sunny does). Melanie Joan credited Dr. Charles Hall with helping her get her first novel into shape. So if anyone’s going to be able to clear her from these charges—or condemn her—it’s going to be him. Sadly, he’s in poor health and suffering from some sort of dementia. His current spouse (another former student) can give Sunny some information, however.
I think that Lupica makes a giant misstep in this book, but to talk about them would involve spoilers. If you’re curious, I’m going to post something separately about it so I can keep this post spoiler-free. If you’re not curious, I’m not sure I blame you.
Lupica threw everything he had into this last go-round with Sunny. Almost every character he’s used makes an appearance or gets their name used a couple of times—plus a few others from the Parkerverse. The story is more intricate than anything he’s given us thus far, too.
Aside from the spoiler stuff, I don’t have much to quibble with. I think I could’ve lived with fewer TV references, they seem out of place in this universe. One would be okay, but there are more than a few. I also think the Phil Randall story resolved too easily—but it helped set up the rest of the novel, so I can see why Lupica made the choice.
At the end of the day, I was really impressed with this one. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—I think Lupica did a better job with Sunny than Robert B. Parker did, and this novel solidifies that. I’d be content with him writing this series for a decade, but I have high hopes for Alison Gaylin as she takes the reins.
If you’re even a casual reader of the Sunny Randall novels, this is one not to miss.
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 Bye Bye Babyby Ace Atkins
DETAILS: Series: Spenser, #50 Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons Publication Date: January 11, 2022 Format: Hardcover Length: 304 pg. Read Date: January 19, 2022
Over the years, many things have changed about my profession. I no longer kept an actual landline on my desk. Since no one had called it since a little past the first of the millennium, I discontinued the service.
My superhuman ability to scroll through microfilm was no longer in demand. Almost anything I needed to look up, from old news stories, to criminal histories, to vehicle records, could be found online. Although I missed my visits to the Boston Public Library, I’d accepted the long, boring hours at my desk, thinking about how many old cases I could’ve solved with Google.
Spenser’s hired by the campaign manager for a Congresswoman during her first re-election bid. Carolina Garcia-Ramirez, aka CGR, has had enemies since she first announced her candidacy (despite its reputation, Boston has a fair share of people antagonistic to a progressive woman politician—especially if she’s a minority), but lately, the threats are more specific and indicate inside information. Despite the Congresswoman’s resistance to the idea, Spenser joins her team as both a bodyguard and to investigate these threats.
Suspects range from any number of racist and alt-right groups, lone individuals, and someone related to the campaign of her opponent—the same man she unseated during the last primary.
It’s not long before Spenser runs into FBI agents, who have a different agenda regarding the Garcia-Ramirez. Spenser wants to stop whoever’s threatening her—as soon as possible. The FBI is more concerned with leveraging these threats into making a larger case against extremists in the region. They do agree, however, that the threats are real and the Congresswoman is in real danger.
In exchange for helping Spender on CGR-Duty, Hawk asks him to try to track down a woman from his past. Hawk rarely (that we see) asks Spenser for help with something in exchange for his services, so that was noteworthy in and of itself. But for him to ask for this kind of favor? Double strange.
Sadly, most of the developments in this story happen off-screen. And while there are plenty of surprises in it, because it’s so off-screen, it’s too easy to overlook what’s going on. (I honestly only remembered to write something about it just before I hit “Schedule” on this post)
There’s a lot of talk about Atkins making this too political (not the first time it’s been said about his Spenser novels). I can only imagine this was written by people who skipped a handful of Parker’s novels, primarily Looking for Rachel Wallace.
I say that not just because it was Parker at his (arguably) most political,* but this novel was clearly influenced by Looking for Rachel Wallace—I made note of the resemblance on page 18 (but I’d wondered about it before then), and it only became clearer as the book went on.
* Double Deuce, Thin Air, and Pale Kings and Princes jumped to mind as clearly political, too. If I let myself spend time thinking about it, I’d have no problem coming up with more.
Yes, Carolina Garcia-Ramirez/CGR, is obviously modeled on Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez/AOC. The crimes planned and attempted have similarly obvious recent real-world parallels. But this is not a book that only partisans can enjoy, if they can put up with Spenser pushing back on the stances of his Republican client in The Widening Gyre*, they can put up with this. Come to think of it, The Widening Gyre is pretty important for the background to this book.
* Oh, look, another one!
Also, if taking a strong anti-racist stance is going to get someone who’s a fan of Hawk, Bobby Horse, Chollo, and Sixkill decrying the political stance. Maybe they haven’t been paying attention to the series.
“Have you found any suspects?” Susan said.
“Nope.”
“Got any leads?” she said.
“Zip.”
“Planning on doing more than just poking around and annoying people?”
“Why mess with a winning formula?”
Alas, that’s exactly what’s going to happen—the winning formula of Ace Atkins donning the Parker mantle for this series is no more, and Mike Lupica will be taking over.
Atkins is moving on so he can write some projects of his own that he doesn’t have time for while handling Spenser. That’s absolutely understandable, and I look forward to seeing what he’s going to do. But I’m going to miss him with these characters and series—I remember being about a quarter of the way through Lullaby and breathing a sigh of relief—not only was he as good as Parker, he was as good as Parker in his prime. I thought I’d be saying goodbye to a very old friend after Parker died, and Atkins let me hang on a little longer.
I’m a little worried about the series. Lupica’s doing a good job with Sunny Randall (his last one is forthcoming this year), and isn’t bad with the Jesse Stone books. But I doubt he’s going to be as good as Atkins with Spenser. I’m hoping to eat my words, though.
“You think these threats could be legitimate?”
“Maybe” [Wayne Cosgrove] said. “Hell, It only takes one person. It’s just a goddamn mess to see through all the noise and bluster these days. Everyone is angry. Everyone has an ax to grind. At least in the old days, a nut had to roll a sheet of paper into the typewriter or paste together some jumbled clippings from a magazine. But now all they have to do is use a dummy email account and be done.”
“The perils of sleuthing in the twenty-first century.”
It’s a little hard separating my feelings and thoughts about this book from Atkins’ entire run with this being his last, but I’m going to try.
I don’t think this was his strongest outing—nor was it his weakest—but it was as fun as you could want. Spenser’s wit was on full power, as was his gift for observation. The mid-novel fight scene was pretty good–as were the other action scenes. The campaign staff were believable and interesting—as was CGR (although her boyfriend got on my nerves, I think by design). A lot of that story was predictable, but Atkins told it well enough that you didn’t mind—there are only so many things you can do in a story about bodyguarding someone, after all. There were also plenty of unexpected things along the way, so even if the destination was clear all along, Atkins’s route to it wasn’t.
The only sour note for me was the investigation for Hawk—it felt like Atkins had a good idea at the beginning, and just didn’t have the time to develop it as he should’ve. I do wonder if he was just setting something up for Lupica. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.
Atkins brought out all of the major characters from his run, and many from Parker’s, for one last ride—it was great to see them before the hand-off. Atkins even made one major character move (one might say it was overdue and something that Parker should’ve done).
This would work as a jumping-on point to the series—although I can’t imagine here in book 50 that there’s anyone who hasn’t tried the series but is considering it. But more importantly, it’s one for the fans written by a fellow fan, and that audience should be more than satisfied with it.
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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Robert B. Parker’s Stone’s Throwby Mike Lupica eARC, 336 pg. Read: August 17-18, 2021 |
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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Robert B. Parker’s Stone’s Throwby Mike Lupica eARC, 336 pg. Read: August 17-18, 2021 |
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradiseby Mike Lupica eARC, 352 pg. Read: September 2-3, 2020 |
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Believe it or not, this is the trimmed-down version. The original draft was too long even for me, so I tabled it for a week or so and came back with something more concise. More concise, I said, not concise. Hopefully coherent.
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Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Meby Ace Atkins Hardcover, 306 pg. Read: January 15-16, 2021 |
It was early evening and early summer, and my bay window was cracked open above Berkeley Street. I had a half-eaten turkey sub on my desk and the sports page from The Globe splayed out underneath. Dan Shaughnessy proclaimed Mookie Betts to be overrated. I’m sure many said the same thing about me. But I was pretty sure being overrated was better than being underrated. A mistake few made twice.
I contemplated Mookie’s situation as I heard a knock on the anteroom door.
And just like that, I’m back in one of my favorite fictional universes, and it felt so great. Among the many, many things wrong with 2020 (and I want to stress that this is far down the list) was that there was no new Spenser novel. Thankfully, Atkins and his publisher have addressed that problem here in the early days of 2021 by bringing us the 48th entry in this fantastic series.
Mattie Sullivan, who’s been doing some work for Spenser lately, tried to do a favor for someone from her neighborhood, and now needs Spenser to help her. It’s a pretty simple task, but the story behind it is troubling. It doesn’t go much better for Spenser than it went for Mattie, but once he starts to ask questions, he ends up pulling the proverbial thread that unravels a sweater. And by “sweater”, I’m referring to an international sex-trafficking ring catering to the wealthy and powerful who like to prey on the young.
Yeah, basically, Atkins is going for a ripped-from-the-headlines Jeffrey Epstein kind of story.
One of my few complaints with the Spenser novels by Atkins is that he hasn’t used Mattie Sullivan since his first one, Lullaby. There’ve been a reference or two, but that’s it. But I got the impression that, like Zebulon Sixkill or Paul Giacomin, Mattie’d be around. But it never materialized. That’s fine. I get where (especially as Atkins was establishing himself) that there’d be some resistance to bringing in a young girl as a regular—it’d be tantamount to introducing Cousin Oliver.
But she’s here, and we’re to believe she’s been a presence in his life, and he in hers. More importantly, she needs a little help from her mentor. She’s on the verge of starting a career, and the way this works out will have a lot to say about her next steps.
The Captain has been antagonistic toward Spenser since she showed up a few books back, a little more than Quirk was in the early books in the series. Sure, she’ll let Belson do his thing and will eventually listen to what Spenser has to say.
And that hasn’t changed. However…years ago, she tried to stop the same man. She worked with two victims, but the charges went away after someone (probably multiple someones) that he had leverage over had exerted their influence. Glass hasn’t gotten over it. If Spenser’s truly trying to bring him down, she’s in.
She doesn’t give a lot of help, but she gives some—and given what little Spenser has to work with it’s something. This doesn’t mean things are going to be chummy between Glass and Spenser any time soon. But it’s still nice to see.
On the backside, we found two cars parked outside. One was the Mercedes I’d seen drop off Debbie Delgado. The other was a light blue Rolls-Royce Phantom. Pearl and I noted the license tag on the Rolls. Or at least I hoped she did. She was still a detective-in-training.
Susan and Spenser’s second Pearl has died. This time, Spenser replaced her with a puppy German Shorthaired Pointer. I think I mentioned when Lupica’s first Sunny Randall had her do the same thing, I find the practice of replacing one dog with another of the same breed and using the same name odd (more than odd, but let’s stick with that). Susan seems to balk at the practice this time, which is odd. She seemingly had no problem with it for their second Pearl, but now she puts her foot down?
This does, however, provide Atkins with the opportunity to get Spenser to explain himself. I’m not sure that it helps. But at least he tried.
Still, Puppy Pearl is cute, so I’ll shut up about it.
I feel bad bringing this up, but it’s right there in the Publisher’s description, so I guess it’s fair game. But Atkins brings back The Gray Man. I was stunned—almost as stunned as Spenser, Hawk, and Susan were—because I haven’t read a blurb for this series since Atkins’ first installment (and it had been probably decades before that).
I think it’s a risky move to bring someone like this back. You don’t want to use someone like Ruger too often. Once was probably enough, any more than that and you risk humanizing the character, making him seem less threatening, more mortal, more defeatable. I thought that when Parker did brought him back, and I think that now. Parker pulled it off. Atkins did it better. I love it when something so risky pays off.
The three plane rides hadn’t been kind to me. I could feel every old break, bruise, and irregularity in my body. It had been eight years since I’d first met Mattie. Now she was a grown, successful person. And I was still doing what | do, none the wiser, not finding a better line of work. Maybe someday I’d retire to a place like this… Few get out of our livelihood by being politely asked. One day all the push-ups, wind sprints, and sparring wouldn’t save us. At this point in my life, I’d been doing this for many more years than I had not.
Both Ruger and the new Pearl (in different ways) make much of this book a meditation on mortality (Spenser’s in particular, while Hawk insists he “youthens”). This is something that Atkins has really highlighted in various ways since he took the helm, but not to this extent.
I don’t have time (or that much desire) to re-read it so I couldn’t say this definitively, but I don’t think Ruger’s second appearance brought with it this level of angst and apprehension on the part of Spenser, much less Hawk or Susan. But Atkins hits the notes that he should. The Grey Man about killed Spenser, reduced him to a shadow of the man we knew before, and he should make Spenser—reflexive confidence or not—fearful. As he should be. Because that’s the kind of guy that Ruger is, smart people are afraid of him. Smart people who’ve barely survived going up against him should really be afraid of him.
I loved it. I always enjoy being back in this world. Getting to see another part of Hawk’s life than we’ve ever seen before just makes it better.
I do wonder a little about what this novel says about Ceremony, the most problematic Spenser novel (still a good read, don’t get me wrong, but come on). I think Spenser’s actions and attitudes in this are defensible without casting doubt about what he did in Ceremony. And maybe it could be argued that Spenser’s attitudes changed after seeing what happened to April Kyle. I don’t think it’d be convincing, but maybe you could do that.
This gives the long-time fan plenty of stuff to think about, if they want to. There’s a decent amount for a new reader to chew on, too. But more than anything—it’s a solid Spenser novel written by the man who’s been keeping the legend alive for almost a decade, with hopefully many more years to come.
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This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice
RULES:
Grab a book, any book.
Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
Find a snippet, short and sweet.
Post it
from page 56 of:
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.
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Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradiseby Mike Lupica eARC, 352 pg. Read: September 2-3, 2020 |
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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Early Autumnby Robert B. Parker Mass Market Paperback, 221 pg. Read: July 29, 2020 |
This is the least “Spenser”-ish of the Spenser novels, and it’s the most quintessentially “Spenser”-sh. If that’s possible. I’ve probably read it more than any other in the series and probably could’ve written 75% of what I’m going to end up saying here without cracking it open. But why deny myself?
I’m going to try to keep this from getting out of control, but no promises.
Please. I have no one else. Please.”
“There’s a qustion whether you need anyone else,” I said, “but I’ll take a whack at it on one condition.”
“What?”
“You tell me your name so I’ll know where the bill gets sent.”
She smiled. “Giacomin,” she said, “Patty Giacomin.”
“Like the old Ranger’s goalie,” I said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Gentleman of the same name used to be a hockey player.”
“Oh. I”m afraid I don’t follow sports much.”
“No shame to it,” I said. “Matter of not being raised properly. Not your fault at all.”
She smiled again, although this time it was a little unsure, as if now that she had me she wasn’t certain she wanted me. It’s a look I’ve seen a lot.
Patty Giacomin comes to Spenser (in a newly relocated office, this will be important a few books from now) for help, her ex-husband has taken their teenaged son in some sort of revenge move. She wants Spenser to get him back. He does so, in possibly the dullest scene in the series (only because it was so easy). This is not the kind of stuff we read P.I. novels for—Paul’s back home by page 30.
Three months later, a stranger attempts to kidnap Paul, but he escapes. Patty hires Spenser to stay with them and protect Paul—and her, after the would-be kidnapper and an accomplice try to break in and take Paul. Spenser interferes with that plan, but Paul’s safe, Patty’s eventually kidnapped by these men, and the exchange is set up, son for mom.
Spenser and Hawk interfere with that plan, and this time it gets a bit more violent. Clearly things are going to keep escalating, so they need another tack. It’s decided that Patty will lie low with a friend for a while, and Spenser and Paul will go out of town until the heat dies down. Spenser had promised to build a cabin for Susan on some property in Maine, so he and the boy head off to do that.
At this point, it’s not just about keeping Paul safe for Spenser. He’s trying to help the kid—trying to push him into being an autonomous person with skills and interests. Angela Duckworth would say that Spenser’s trying to foster grit in Paul, who certainly needs something.
Clearly, Mel Giacomin has some less-than-savory friends/business associates if he can get this kind of help. Spenser moves the bodyguarding to the side and beings investigating—why would Mel be able to find this kind of help? Would knowing this give Spenser the leverage to get Mel out of Paul’s life?
When we first meet Paul, he’s a sullen, almost affect-less fifteen year-old whose major form of communication is a shrug. He has no interests, few friends, really doesn’t seem to care which parent he’s with, and would rather just sit around watching syndicated reruns all day than worry about any of this. (one can only imagine how a Paul would be written today with hundreds of cable channels, Netflix (and the rest)—not to mention the Internet—rather than the few choices that 1981 TV provides.
When Spenser starts to teach him to exercise, to box, and to swing a hammer, Paul couldn’t care less about any of it. He goes along because he has nothing better to do (there’s no TV at the cabin) and because Spenser’s not really taking no for an answer. Soon Paul goes along with it because he’s seeing and feeling the results of an active lifestyle.
When Spenser gets ready to investigate his parents, Paul’s more than willing to tag along and help. He’s not a budding P.I., this isn’t Spenser adding a Robin to his Batman. It’s Paul exercising some self-determination. By the end of the novel, he knows who his parents are. He understands their motivations and what they’re like when they’re not being some of the lousiest parents you’ll encounter in print. More than that, he’ll know the kind of man he wants to be and he’ll know how he wants to become that kind of man.
Previously to now, we’ve seen Susan understand and support Spenser’s work. She may not enjoy it or agree with his methods, but she understands and supports him—even assists him as best as she can (when feasible). But that’s not the case in Early Autumn, she discourages Spenser from following his plan. She’s outright critical about parts of it, and spends most of the novel in one “funk” (Spenser’s word) or another. This case, and Spenser’s approach to it, puts a strain on their relationship, and it’s easy to understand why that is from her perspective (his, too, neither are wrong).
While Susan doesn’t seem to come across all that well for much of the book, she does come across as human. She’s not perfect, she’s a little jealous, she’s put out that Spenser will just drop strangers on her front door with no warning claiming to be in danger. But when the chips are down, she pitches in, and eventually embraces Spenser’s mission regarding Paul. In a few years, we won’t see that complex of a reaction from Susan. The character (and the series) will be less for that, so when possible, I’ve got to enjoy it.
We get a scene in this book that in my mind we get a lot more than Parker actually wrote (although it does show up in Spener: For Hire a few times), someone has contacted Hawk about a hit on Spenser. Something Hawk would never do, but not too many people know that. It’s a great scene, and Hawk seems to enjoy it more than even I do.
He’s not around for much of this book, but when he is, it matters. I don’t think Hawk’s appearances before now have qualified, but I’d say he steals almost every scene he’s in. It’s one of those cases where a supporting character becomes as, if not more, beloved than the series protagonist/central character.
He’s ruthless, he’s dependable, and he does what he thinks is necessary—even when it conflicts with Spenser’s wishes—because he thinks Spener’s soft. Frequently, he lets Spenser’s “rules” get in the way of what he wants to do. But this time, he won’t–because he’s convinced it’ll get Spenser killed, and then Hawk would have to come along and get revenge later. He’d rather cut out the middle stuff and take care of it now. No matter what Hawk, Spenser, and others may say about the two of them being the same. They’re not. And it’s because of things like this.
As I said before, it’s obvious that Mel Giacomin is up to something. Upstanding citizens don’t enlist criminal help in a custody case (they wouldn’t know how). Spenser and Paul take very little time or effort (although there is some, helping Paul increase his grit) to uncover enough to send his father to jail—or to blackmail him into supporting Paul’s education while keeping him safe from further abductions.
It’s a step or two above perfunctory, and it really doesn’t matter. The core of this book is Paul. Paul and his relationship to his parents. Paul and Spenser. Paul starting to think and act on his own behalf, making choices, and being autonomous to whatever degree he can. Parker has to throw in the criminal activity because Spenser’s not Spenser without a villain to thwart. Also, how else would it stay in the genre?
You’ve gotten yourself in a lot of trouble over this, Jack, and don’t you forget it,” he said.
I said, “Name’s Spenser with an S, like the poet. I’m in the Boston book.” I stepped through the door and closed it. Then I opened it again and stuck my head back into the hall. “Under Tough,” I said. And closed the door, and walked out.
I love it. We get the clearest, and most unabashed description of Spenser’s code of honor, code of life, and way of approaching things that we’ll ever get. He’s embarrassed to talk about it to Rachel Wallace, he’ll joke around the truth with others, and he and Susan will cover the same ground ad nauseam. But here he’s trying to pass it on to Paul, even if Paul doesn’t embrace it wholeheartedly, Spenser wants to inspire Paul to come up with his own code, his own guiding principles and the best way to do that is by being open an honest.
We learn so much about Spenser here that it’s essential reading for anyone wanting to understand the character.
I was younger than Paul the first few times I read this book, and I won’t say that it inspired me the same way it does Paul. I can’t say I developed the need for, or interest, in being an autonomous person, or in defining my own moral code. But the novel did inspire me, it made me think about life in a way that most people my age didn’t do (probably still don’t).
The dialogue was snappy, I learned early on that it a shrug shouldn’t be used as an all-purpose method of communication, the action was good (if almost an afterthought), and anything that contains a couple of strong Hawk scenes is worth the read.
This isn’t Spenser at his smartest, his toughest, or even his funniest. But it’s Spenser in the raw, the Platonic ideal of Spenser on display for readers and characters alike.
It’s a great read.
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