Category Archives: crime fiction

The Children of Eve, by John Connolly*****

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If Stephen King and James Lee Burke had a baby—an unnatural one, of course—it would probably look a lot like John Connolly. Connolly has a genius for creating tales that take place on Earth, and are in most regards realistic, while adding elements of the supernatural that go well beyond magical realism. There’s the mystery, and there’s the horror, and if we’re reading a Charlie Parker mystery, we cannot have one without the other, nor should we.

My tremendous thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the review copy of The Children of Eve, the 22nd Charlie Parker mystery. This book is for sale now.

The story commences when Charlie is contracted to find and protect a man named Wyatt Riggins, who has disappeared. Riggins has thrown in his lot with some baddies, and may have bitten off more than he can chew. As Charlie—and we—pursue Riggins, we learn of some seriously nasty skullduggery that’s afoot involving international art thieves. Added to the mix are four missing children, believed to have been kidnapped. There’s not a single slow moment as Charlie tracks Riggins, and we see, through the third person omnipotent, the manner in which these thieves have fallen out, and the trail of bodies that are left in their wake. This is grisly business, and not for the squeamish, although I will say that some horror and hardcore detective novels do go places that I can’t, but Parker novels always manage to stay just inside my own boundaries.

Recurring characters Angel and Louis, perennial favorites, return briefly. At one point, Parker has been roughed up and is in the hospital. Angel and Louis have been listed as his next of kin, and they seem unlikely nurturers. While guarding Parker’s room, for instance, Louis amuses himself by making those that pass by him nervous. And when he is discharged on the condition that he not be alone for the next 24 hours, Angel and Louis make the doctor uneasy as well. She asks Parker whether he has “any other friends? Any at all?” I would have loved to see more of these two, but perhaps Connolly is keeping them in the shadows, lest they grow stale. That’s hard to imagine, but no other reason makes sense. I also enjoyed the brief glimpse of the Fulci Brothers, hired (but not brilliant) muscle men that resemble “bears in green leisure suits.”

Perhaps the most disquieting aspect of this novel—scratch that, not “perhaps”—is the development of Connolly’s dead daughter, Jennifer, who has come to him periodically and watches over him. I won’t say anymore about that, but I finished this book 2 days ago, have been reading several other books, and yet I can’t get Jennifer out of my head. For those that love gritty detective novels, and for those that are drawn to things that go bump in the night, this book, and this series is strongly recommended.

Murder in an English Garden, by Carlene O’Connor***-****

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Murder in an Irish Garden is the eleventh in the Irish Village mystery series by Carlene O’Connor, but I haven’t read any of the earlier books. My thanks go to Kensington Books, RB Media, and NetGalley for the review copies; this book is for sale now.

I was drawn to this book because it features three of my interests: mysteries, Ireland, and gardening. On the downside, it’s definitely a cozy mystery, and I am generally not a fan of cozies, except for the ones that have a bit of an edge, the sort that make true cozy readers complain. I mention the latter because for me, this felt too sedate; on the other hand, true cozy fans may find it is just about right for them.

The premise is that the annual gardening contest, which features a significant cash prize and a great deal of prestige, is about to take place. The village’s most serious gardeners have spent considerable time, effort, and money preparing their gardens for the event, but then one of the displays turns out to have a corpse inside it; the body is that of an entrant who isn’t from the village, an outsider who’s using the competition as a stepping stone to get her admitted to another contest that has a massive cash prize. Cassidy Ryan, the outsider, has been murdered. Village cops Siobhan and Macdara, who are a married couple, are tasked with solving the crime.

As the story opens, we find the two cops—called garda—in a marital dispute, and our protagonist, Siobhan, has an internal monologue that switches back and forth between murder and her pique at Macdara. I felt the latter was overdone, but I also wonder if I had read some of the earlier books, whether I would be more invested in their romance. Of course, they eventually resolve their dispute, and they crack the case.

I was lucky enough to have access to both the digital and audio versions. This proved to be even more helpful than usual, as I was able to hear the story through the delightful Irish brogue of reader Caroline Lennon, and at the same time, I learned the pronunciation of a few common Irish names that I’d only seen in print until now. Between these things and the fact that the narrative is linear and lends itself to the audio format so beautifully, I recommend that interested readers select either the audio alone, or a combination of both. I read multiple books at a time, and because it is easily followed, it’s the story I have chosen to hear while driving.

The characters felt poorly developed to me, with external qualities—this gardener loves goats, that gardener is formal and rather picky—serving as the only development that I found. I would have liked to see some dynamics, and some agreeable qualities for the deceased included. There was almost nothing about gardening, which would have been fine, had there been character development, but alas.  For this reason, I rate the digital version 3 stars, but for the reasons mentioned earlier, the audio version is elevated to 4 stars.

Murder at Gull’s Nest, by Jess Kidd*****

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Nora Breen has sprung the coop, run away from her home of the past thirty years and come to Gull’s Nest, a rooming house near the sea. “Gull’s nest is that sort of place, isn’t it? Where the dreamers and schemers wash up.” And indeed, that’s our Nora. “A washed up nun…An abandoned friend. Flotsam and jetsam.”

Murder at Gull’s Nest is the first mystery in a series by one of my favorite novelists, Jess Kidd. I’m grateful to NetGalley and Atria Books for the review copy. This singular story will be available to buy in the U.S. April 8, 2025.

Nora is indeed a former nun; she’s shed her holy orders along with her tunic and scapular; she’s asked Christ for a divorce. Now she’s middle aged, and dressed in whatever castoffs were available when she departed. She has very little money, and is appalled at what inflation has done to prices between the time that she entered the monastery and the present day. Her first order of business now is clear, regardless: she must find her beloved friend Frieda, who left the order, came to live at Gull’s Nest, corresponded faithfully, then apparently dropped off the surface of the earth. If she’s alive, Nora will find her; if not, Nora will find her anyway.

She settles into the rooming house, and as she gets to know the other boarders, we get to know them along with her. The owner is a stickler for rules, and the cook and housekeeper—one person—is a tyrant. The food is dreadful! Nora resolves to float along beneath the radar for a bit, get the lay of the land before she does any obvious snooping about. However, since this is a murder mystery, someone dies while she’s still getting her bearings. And in time honored tradition, she irritates the very bejesus out of the local law man, Inspector Rideout, who is still deciding whether this death is due to murder at all.

“’I am not yet investigating a murder, Miss Breen.’

“’Are we not?’

“’No, I am not.’”

Don’t ask me to give away anything else about what happens here, because I won’t. I will tell you, however, that it crackles. Jess Kidd writes everything well: internal monologue? Check! Dialogue? Check! Denouement? Check, check, check!

Get this book and read it. You won’t be sorry.

The Maid’s Secret, by Nita Prose****-******

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Molly the Maid is back for the third installment of Nita Prose’s excellent and wildly successful series. My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House Ballantine for the review copy. This book will be available to the public April 8, 2025.

As in the first two books, we find Molly employed at The Regency Grand Hotel; she’s been promoted to Head Maid as well as Special Events Manager. She is engaged to chef Juan Manuel, a lovely fellow that helped fill the void in her life when her beloved Gran died. But everything changes when Brown and Beagle, art appraisers famed for their reality television program, come to do a show at The Regency Grand. Along with all of the “polishing to perfection” that is necessary for such a massive event, Molly decides to bring a few of her late grandmother’s trinkets along; you never know, maybe one of them will be worth something.

Oh, it most certainly is!

Once her rare and valuable object becomes public knowledge, Molly’s life changes completely. She no longer has privacy, which she holds dear; strangers are constantly in her face seeking autographs, and the press won’t leave her alone. Meanwhile, we are apprised of the circumstances leading up to this startling discovery. Gran comes to us from beyond the grave—so to speak—in the form of a diary that Molly didn’t know she kept. Chapters in this book alternate between the present day in Molly’s life, and the past, as told in epistolary fashion by Gran.

I wasn’t a big fan of this method, and I’m still a bit ambivalent, which is where the half star off the rating went. It seems like a lazy way to go about telling a story. However, if an author must use this method, it’s hard to imagine it being done better.

Of course things don’t go smoothly following the discovery of the heirloom; if they did, then there would be no novel. But I will leave the conflicts and resolution to the reader to discover.  As for me, I found the series of events, and the ending, believable enough for our purposes, and I enjoyed the story greatly, despite my misgivings about Gran’s storytelling method.

Recommended to those that enjoy the series; this book may be read as a stand-alone, but will be better enjoyed if you can read the first, second, or both earlier books first.

Hang on St. Christopher, by Adrian McKinty*****

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Fans of Adrian McKinty’s Sean Duffy mystery series, celebrate! The eighth installment, Hang on St. Christopher, is out, and it’s well worth the wait. My endless thanks go to NetGalley and Blackstone Publishing for the review copy. This book will be available to the American public tomorrow, March 4, 2025.

When we rejoin Duffy, he’s a part-timer with the Royal Ulster Constabulary, driving a desk:

Until a year ago, doing boring paperwork had only been my cover, because I’d really been a case officer in charge of handling an IRA double agent in the police, who we’d turned into a triple agent working for us: feeding the IRA false intelligence and trying to pick up tips. But the stress of playing for us and them had finally taken its toll on Assistant Chief Constable John Strong, who had a coronary event in his back garden, where he’d been pruning his pear tree with a chainsaw. The chainsaw had avoided killing him, but it had laid waste to several of his prized garden gnomes before the cutoff switch kicked in. It had taken him an hour to die out there, gasping for breath in the summer heat among the severed heads of his gnome army, and those of us who knew about his crimes and betrayals had considered that justice.

For the uninitiated, this is typical of McKinty’s writing style, providing essential information in a tightly worded space, but also including, now and then, some unexpectedly hilarious tidbits. It prevents his prose from becoming too dark to be a fun read.

And dark it does become. You see, Detective Sergeant Lawson, who was once Duffy’s underling and whom Duffy still outranks, is on vacation—sorry, holiday—on the Continent, and wouldn’t you know that a particularly interesting and urgent sort of murder takes place while he’s gone? Duffy is on his way out the door, ready to retire to his suburban home in Scotland where his girlfriend and daughter await, when he’s tapped to go to the scene. Of course, he can turn the whole thing over to Lawson once he’s home; it’s only for a couple of days.

As if.

There are two things that as a reader, I rarely do anymore, and one of them is to stay up late to finish a book. Why should I? I’m retired. I can finish it in the morning if I choose, when I’m rested. The other is to feel sorrow when a good book has ended. I always have dozens sitting in my queue, so even a good book that’s finished is a title I can check off my list, right? But just like Duffy’s tranquil—okay, boring—suburban idyll, all that goes out the window for this one. I stayed up long after my light is usually extinguished, and I mourned when I realized there was no more of it to read.

Once the adrenaline had faded, I wondered where my usual cynicism had gone. I’m a tough customer when it comes to mysteries, and in this one, Duffy does about a million things that cops never do in real life, taking all sorts of crazy risks, doing things at his own expense and on his own time. Why do I believe this story? Because I do. I believe every stinking word of it. And then I realize that it’s the character. McKinty has developed Sean Duffy so well that I know that while cops in general don’t do these things, Duffy absolutely does. Part of it is his thirst for justice; part of it is his inner darkness, a slight, or not so slight, death wish.

If I could change one thing, it would be to have the 9th Sean Duffy mystery available now. Right this minute. I have some excellent books in my queue, but there’s not a single one that I wouldn’t drop like a hot coal if I were given another Duffy book.

Can you read it as a stand-alone? You can, but it would be silly, because when you finish, you’ll be online searching for ways to get the first seven in the series. Do what you gotta do, but read this book.

The Damages, by Shelley Costa****

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Shelley Costa, one of my favorite cozy mystery and humor writers, gave us No Mistaking Death, a new series introducing amateur sleuth Marian Warner in 2023. Here she is back with the second in the series, The Damages. My thanks go to the author, NetGalley, and Level Best Books for the review copies. This book is for sale now.

Marian was confused and hurting when last we saw her; that’s what happens when a normal person shoots someone. She blew out of Carthage, Ohio like the devil was on her tail at the end of the first mystery, but now she’s back, answering the call of a kid who wants her to find his missing sister, Beth. Beth is a courier for a medical testing company, ferrying blood samples from point A to point B. She’s well liked, lives a stable existence, and has told nobody of travel plans, but despite the fact that Carthage is a dinky little town, nobody has seen her lately.

It doesn’t look good.

Marian’s investigation dovetails with a big trial that’s taking place. A local obstetrician is being sued for millions by a couple whose baby he delivered. She has Cerebral Palsy, will never walk, talk, or lead a normal life. The medical malpractice suit is a money grab, plain and simple; if it is successful, Dr. Barish won’t be able to practice anymore. His premiums are already killing him. Is he the reason that Courtney Clemm is in such dire condition? Because she certainly is. It’s hard to look away.

This is a complex tale with a lot of twists and turns, but it’s not the mystery that keeps me engaged, it’s the protagonist. Given that this is just book 2 of a series, Marian is unusually well developed and immensely engaging. Add to this Costa’s trademark wordsmithery, her wry observations and quirky figurative language, and the case is almost beside the point. I’m here for Marian. And that’s good, because—for reasons I cannot understand myself—the pacing here is a little slow in places, though it ramps up to an arresting climax and powerful ending.

All told, this is a well-crafted novel, and I look forward immensely to book 3 in the series. Recommended to all that love a good cozy.

Open Season, by Jonathan Kellerman***

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3.5 stars, rounded downward.

Open Season is the fortieth (!) in the Alex Delaware series, one that I have read since the very first book. Newbies can read it as a stand alone novel, however. My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House/Ballantine Books for the review copy. It will be available to the public February 4, 2025.

One of the joys of reading a long running series is its familiarity. If the writer is good—and nobody will say Kellerman isn’t—the characters begin to feel like old friends. In addition to our protagonist, kiddy shrink and cop consultant Alex Delaware, we have his wife, Robin, who is mostly a background character; Alex’s best friend, Detective Milo Sturgis; and some lesser recurring characters such as cops Sean and Petra. I could include Milo’s husband Rick, but Rick almost never puts in a personal appearance. In fact, we see a good deal more of Blanche, Alex and Robin’s French bulldog, who, like the other characters, never grows old. When Milo lumbers into the Delaware kitchen and raids practically everything in the fridge, I smile. Ah, there he is, the big guy.

When the series began, Alex, a child psychologist (like Kellerman himself,) worked with seriously troubled children and teens, but when the LAPD had a case involving a child, he would consult on it also. Now he works on the private cases of his choosing, primarily custody cases and the like, and is a de facto cop. This has developed in the context of Milo, a gay cop, being ostracized by the rest of the department, and so once a friendship and working relationship develops between Milo and Alex, Alex rides along and they say he’s a consultant, even when there are no funds in the budget and he is merely a volunteer.

All this may seem improbable today, but please remember that the series began in 1985, when gay men were treated brutally by most of American society, and that is exponential when it’s a cop being hazed by his own department. And even today, gay cops don’t always have an easy road.

Is this realistic, then? Let’s look at it this way. To be completely realistic, Alex would never get into that cop car, and he would work only from his office. To consult with the department, he would be sent information to analyze, and if appropriate, the child or children in question would meet with him in an office to be interviewed. Milo would either be on his own, or with whatever newbie was stuck being his partner for now.

And it would be dull as hell.

So, for me to enjoy this series, I just need the most improbable aspects to be scaled back, and I’m happy. Several books ago, Alex was donning a Kevlar vest and rocketing into action with Milo, and that was straight-up ridiculous. But Alex doesn’t do that anymore. The story is just believable enough for me to buy into it, and so I’m happy.

This particular episode involves a sniper, and although I enjoyed it and found little to object to, it didn’t have quite as much sparkle as most of his other books. On the other hand, it also didn’t have a theme involving kinky sex—ew!—as in multiple past novels, and it didn’t have any of my pet peeves that I dislike wherever they turn up. No kidnapping Alex or his loved ones; no struggle with alcohol. So I was happy for the most part and would have rounded the rating up to four stars, which is what I usually rate Delaware novels, but the multiple snarky remarks about abortion rocked me back. Not all women’s health facilities that feature abortion as an option are “abortion mills.” If a grandmother suggests that a pregnant granddaughter consider abortion, it doesn’t make her a bad grandmother. Am I rounding the score on a novel downward because I don’t like the author’s politics? Yes. Yes I am. But, can I do that? Sure I can. I just did.

I’ve loved this series for a long time, and I look forward to reading the forty-first. I do recommend this book to the series faithful, but if possible, get it at a discount or free, rather than paying full price, unless your pockets are deep ones. If you are new to the series, if possible, read either the most recent one before this—number thirty-nine was excellent—or read the very first, When the Bough Breaks, which ties the subject much more closely to Alex’s original profession.

Veronica Ruiz Breaks the Bank, by Elle Cosimano****

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Fans of Cosimano’s Finlay Donovan series will recognize her trusty sidekick and BFF, Vero. Over the course of the series, we’ve had many hints about Vero’s past, and Finlay sometimes wonders why Vero is so tightlipped about her personal history. This short story provides curious readers with some background, as well as some of the entertainment for which Cosimano is fast becoming legendary.

My thanks go to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

I generally avoid this sort of book, because often as not, the author returns to flesh it out into a full length novel, and as much as I enjoy reading it once, I don’t want to read it twice. But this was low hanging fruit, a shorty by an author I greatly enjoy, at a time when I couldn’t get up and move around much, and so I dove into it.

Vero is an honors student from a struggling family, and her academic career is short circuited when an envelope of money goes missing, and Vero is blamed by her sorority sisters. Vero makes a run for it; desperate for work, she takes a custodial job in a bank, and that’s where the fun begins.

This is an entertaining read, but it’s not up to the level of Cosimano’s novels. For a short story to work, a lot must be packed into it, with every single word pulling its own weight, and possibly that of its friends and family. Here, it feels like a chapter out of a book, one in which the author doesn’t want to give up any truly juicy information about the protagonist because she’s saving it for—you got it—a novel.

Of course, I cannot pretend to know what the author is thinking here; this is just an educated guess. But the product is the product, and whereas it was a fun read as a free galley, I might have felt a bit annoyed if I’d paid money for it.

Those looking for a quick, light read to take to the beach could do worse. Some people don’t have the time or stamina for a full length novel of any type; if that’s you, maybe this is your book. But as for me, I’ll hold out for the real deal in the future.

The Slate, by Matthew FitzSimmons*****

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Author Matthew FitzSimmons is a veteran novelist, but he is new to me. I picked up on the buzz generated by his most recent book, a political thriller titled The Slate. What a ride! This is a true thriller, one that gripped me at the outset and didn’t let me go till it was done with me. I’d had surgery and was dealing with a lot of drowsiness from the various medications and anesthesia, but this book didn’t care about any of that. This book—aided and abetted by narrator Mia Barron– made me read it anyway, and I’m glad.

My thanks go to Net Galley and Brilliance Publishing for the review copies. This book is available to the public now.

Agatha Cardiff is retired. She used to be a political mover and shaker, but many years ago, she was roped into doing something she didn’t want to do, and should not have done. Since then, she’s been hiding. A neighbor offers her some bedding plants, and she takes his damn head off in a single bite, because she does not want to get to know him. She doesn’t want to get to know anyone.

To make ends meet, Agatha rents out her basement flat to young Shelby. Shelby is late with her rent, and has done something regrettable in order to rectify the problem. Now, Agatha learns, Shelby is in deep trouble, being held captive on board a ship.  Well, there’s no choice, not really. Agatha has to save the kid, even though it means stepping out of seclusion. And sure enough, all hell breaks loose.

As Agatha emerges from her self-protective exile, we begin to see exactly what she’s capable of. It’s a revelation! Our point of view changes occasionally, but make no mistake, this is Agatha’s story. FitzSimmons is such a badass writer that he even manages to develop this character, something I rarely see in a thriller, because it’s hard to maintain rapid pacing while dealing with backstory and internal monologue. He makes it look effortless, but you try doing that. Go on, give it your best shot.

See?

I often shy away from political thrillers because so many of them have a hugely conservative bent that sets my teeth on edge. The Slate, in contrast, plays it right down the middle, and shouldn’t offend red hats, the woke, or anyone anywhere else on the political spectrum.

Because of the narrator’s skill, I lean toward recommending this as an audio book foremost, but if you are a visual reader, don’t let that stop you, as the print version is also excellent. Highly recommended.

Crook Manifesto, by Colson Whitehead*****

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The Ray Carney mystery series is among the most exciting new series to emerge during the past decade, and that is hardly surprising, given that it’s written by Colson Whitehead, who has two Pulitzers and a host of other prestigious awards to his credit. The first in the series is Harlem Shuffle, which came out in 2021. Crook Manifesto is his second. I was unable to get the galley this time, but happily, my son bought it for me for Mother’s Day. I mention this because it’s rare that I pursue a book once I’ve been denied the galley. In this case, it was worth it!

Ray Carney, when we met him first, was a man who’d sometimes been known to bend the law in the past, but as a family man, it was important to him to lead a straight, steady life now. Carney owns a furniture store, financed by money his father had socked away before he died. Ray politely refused to deal with the sort of merchandise that, you know, fell off a truck. That had been a big part of his father’s life, but it wasn’t his.

The place is, of course, Harlem, in New York City; the time is the 1970s.

Ray’s dad had lived on the wrong side of the law. Decent, above board jobs were hard for a Black man to come by in Harlem, so when something needed to exchange owners, or a decrepit building needed to be set ablaze, Mike Carney was your guy.

But not Ray.

I seldom read a book printed on paper anymore, so when I do, I put it in the bathroom. No novel that remains in the bathroom from start to finish can have five stars. In the case of Crook Manifesto, it emerged immediately, but after a few chapters, it went back in, and it managed to stay there until an electrifying moment at the 78% mark, when I sat bolt upright and dragged the book over to the bed.

It all starts out with a corrupt white cop who forces Carney to accompany him on a shakedown. There’s the carrot, and there’s the stick. On the one hand, he can give Carney tickets to see the Jackson 5 live in concert; Carney’s daughter has a birthday coming up, and would give a great deal to see that concert. Tickets are impossible to get, but the cop has some. And then there’s the stick; the cop can make Carney’s life very, very difficult. And so Carney has no real choice.

But among all of the wrongdoings occurring in Harlem, there’s an arson that nearly kills a boy, puts him in the hospital. Carney is obsessed with this. It’s over the line, and he wants to find out who did it and make them pay. And in the process, which involves side business and some interesting new characters, he is forced to reckon with exactly how his own father managed to support his family.

And so that whole middle section of the story, which is atmospheric but relatively low key, is the calm before the storm, but oh honey, that storm is coming. Believe it!

I cannot wait for the third book in the Ray Carney series to come out. When it does, I’ll be ready. If you love this genre, you should start with Harlem Shuffle, then advance to Crook Manifesto directly. Highly recommended.