Book Reviews by Elizabeth A. White

It’s funny that my first officially published work is a collection of short stories. I know that’s how it goes with a lot of writers – they start short and work their way up. You got Frank Bill, who’s critically acclaimed collection Crimes in Southern Indiana precedes his soon to be critically acclaimed novel Donnybrook. I know that Lou Berney, whose debut novel Gutshot Straight is one of my favorite reads of the past few years, he first published a collection of short fiction. Of course, his stories were nominated for Pushcarts and such, so I got no business comparing myself to him.

But intuitively, it makes sense. A novel is the writing equivalent of running a marathon. You might want to build up to it, at least stretch some.

Nobody ever accused me of making sense, though.

I’ve always had the fiction writing bug, toyed with it here and there, but I was cursed with making a good living from writing pretty early on. Strange curse, I know, but the thing was I developed a pretty good freelance business writing for professional service firms, mostly accounting firms, accidently drifting into my niche as a tax writer.

In terms of compensation, it was a great gig. I usually got paid a dollar a word or so, COD. No waiting for sales, praying the next book gets picked up, just cash the check and move on.

But I let the paychecks supplant my dreams. (more…)

Former attorney and current private investigator Rick Levine has a lot to be worried about in author Colleen Collins’s The Zen Man. Now clean and sober for five years after having had his law license suspended by the state of Colorado because of his substance abuse, Rick and his girlfriend, Laura, have opened a B&B lodge and things seem to be looking up for Rick personally and professionally.

In an attempt to lure some of Rick’s former colleagues into using his investigative services, Rick and Laura decide to host a seminar for criminal defense attorneys at the lodge. What started out as a good idea immediately goes downhill when Rick’s decidedly bitter ex-wife shows up at the seminar and gets quite vocally belligerent with him, as well as several others in attendance.

Things go from bad to worse when she’s subsequently found dead in one of the lodge’s hot tubs and Rick is arrested for her murder. Able to secure bail with the help of Laura and his former law partner, Rick has thirty days to discover the real killer’s identity before he’s swept into a system that seems just fine with closing the books on the case with him as the culprit. Easier said than done, as Rick soon finds out there were more than a few people who had reason to want his ex dead, and that someone at the Sheriff’s office is not playing fair with all the evidence. (more…)

At first blush one would feel sorry for young Lillian Stoner, whose husband Reggie has just died at the opening of The Wicked Wives, a story set in 1938 Philadelphia. That is until you learn that Reggie’s mother had recently caught Lillian in flagrante delicto with another man.

The picture gets even murkier when, despite the attending physician being ready to sign off on the death as resulting from pneumonia, Assistant District Attorney Tom Rossi observes signs consistent with poisoning. Should be easy enough to get to the bottom of things though, just order an autopsy, right?

Wrong. Turns out Lillian’s uncle is the very powerful and influential – not to mention corrupt – Deputy Mayor Bill Evans, who makes it quite clear to Rossi that if he pushes for an autopsy he can kiss goodbye any shot at an endorsement from Evans for District Attorney. Without Evans’ backing not only does Rossi have no chance of becoming D.A., but his entire career may take a turn for the worse.

Determined to do the right thing despite what it may cost him personally, Rossi moves forward with the investigation. Initially thinking he was looking into a single questionable death, Rossi ends up uncovering a scandal wider and deeper than he could ever possibly have imagined. (more…)

“The last time a private eye solved a murder was never.” -Ed McBain *

Like many of you, I love a gritty, fast-paced private eye story where the shamus solves a grisly murder or two. Investigating death makes for compelling storytelling rift with bodies, suspects and clues. In my current novel The Zen Man, the private-eye protagonist must solve a murder in thirty days or face a life sentence behind bars.

But how true is it in real life that private investigators solve murders? Is Ed McBain right that the answer is never? I compiled a few popular theories on this topic — some from the Internet, others my PI-partner-husband and I have heard over the years – with analysis for each.

Theory #1: In stories, private eyes are often effective because they are less constrained by government rules than law enforcement. But in reality, law enforcement must be wary about endorsing a PI’s evidence because 1) it’s unknown what methods the PI used in obtaining that evidence (if the PI obtained the evidence through illegal means, it would be thrown out at trial), and 2) by accepting a PI’s evidence, the police could be seen as using the PI as a state agent (“acting under color of law”) and any improper behavior by the PI could be imputed to the police department. (more…)

Complicated was not what PI Devlin ‘Dev’ Haskell had in mind when he was hired by local businessman Weldon Sofmann to find out who tried to run Sofmann’s car off the road. Though Softmann is convinced someone was trying to kill him, Dev figures it was probably just a simple hit-and-run. Man, was he wrong.

Turns out Sofmann, aka Mr. Softee, has a list of people who hate him that’s longer than Dev’s arm. Known for his ice-cream truck empire, Mr. Softee is anything but soft, his hot temper, mean streak, and cutthroat business practices having earned him countless enemies over the years. And those are just the aboveboard suspects.

Apparently fudgesicles and snow cones aren’t the only things available from a Mr. Softee ice cream truck, as word on the street has it there’s a sophisticated bookmaking operation that’s also ready to take your off the menu order if you know what to ask for.

As Dev begins wading through the potential suspect pool a disturbing pattern starts to arise; people who Dev talks to are ending up on the wrong side of trouble. One is found dead, run over by a train, while another has their business firebombed. Probably not a good for the direction the investigation is heading, and that was before the body turned up in the trunk of Dev’s car. Yeah, things just got a bit more complicated. (more…)

Though never charged, Associate Professor of Psychology Steve Toddmann is suspected of having killed his wife, Zoe, and his mentor, the renowned and controversial Dr. LeGrand.

What Steve couldn’t explain to the police is that LeGrand and Zoe were victims of an experiment gone wrong, an experiment into the existence of a fourth-dimension known as the Permeance.

Determined to understand exactly what happened to them, Steve continues the research but doesn’t make much progress with it. Enter Hope Banfield.

Steve’s struck by how much Hope resembles his late wife, as well as by her seriously outdated wardrobe and exceedingly formal manner of speech. When Hope explains that she is, in fact, from the 1870’s and is present via the Permeance Steve realizes the answers to all his questions are finally within reach.

That’s also when things start to get seriously weird. (more…)

Things haven’t shaken out Sam Thornton’s way for quite some time. Driven by desperation and good intentions, Sam made a very bad decision many decades ago. And you know what they say about good intentions.

Yeah, the road to Hell.

Thing is, Sam didn’t make it all the way down that road, but got detoured into Purgatory and shanghaied into eternal employment as a soul collector. If your time has come and the powers that be have marked you for damnation, it’s Sam’s job to remove your soul and send it on its way to hell.

It’s a rather unpleasant experience for both parties.

Things go from unpleasant to unheard of, however, when Sam is assigned to collect Kate MacNeil’s soul. At first blush is seems like a no-brainer since the young woman was caught red-handed, literally, having just butchered her family. Slaughter three people, go to Hell. Makes sense.

So imagine Sam’s surprise when upon attempting to collect Kate’s soul he’s met with an outpouring of purity so overwhelming he’s convinced she didn’t commit the crime; she’s been improperly marked for damnation. However, one does not simply refuse to collect the assigned soul. It’s never happened in the history of, well, ever. Failure to collect Kate’s soul is sure to seriously piss off the denizens of Hell who’ve claimed it. On the other hand, improperly sending a pure soul to Hell for damnation could touch off a war with Heaven. (more…)

That Dante guy was onto something.

See, I grew up in a Catholic family. Catholic families know from punishment. From month-long groundings to wallopings to threats of violent murder, I’ve heard it all. (My personal fave was my mom’s common refrain of “Come here so I can smack you.” Seriously, is that like some kind of aptitude test? Who snaps to when they hear that ol’ chestnut?) But when it comes to scaring kids straight, the best most Sunday Schools can muster is the old lake-of-fire routine. And sure, it don’t sound good exactly, but for a kid raised on Stephen King and A Nightmare on Elm Street, that hell didn’t hardly impress.

Then I read Dante’s INFERNO. Suddenly, hell had my attention.

Sometime during middle school, this must’ve been. Yeah, I know: I was kind of a morbid kid. But I’d yet to discover punk, so I was all about Poe and King and Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, and I figured “Dude gets lost in woods and wanders into hell” was just the sort of thing I should be reading.

Turns out, it was just the sort of thing I should be reading. And, impressionable child that I was, it messed me up a tiny little bit. (more…)

If you threw Douglas Adams, Robert Rankin, and Hunter S. Thompson in a blender, well, you’d get quite a mess actually. But if you threw a handful of their books in a blender… no, that’d still make a mess. OK, pretend you could magically combine the best of what makes each of those authors unique into a single work and what you ended up with might read something like Jack Barrow’s The Hidden Masters and the Unspeakable Evil.

The Three Hidden Masters – two from Hemel Hempstead, one from Bricket Wood (you’ll get that once you’ve read the book) – are pretty low-key, laid-back guys. Of course, all the beer, rum and weed they consume contributes to that. So when their friend Geoff, the Fourth Hidden Master (from Blackpool), contacts them for help it’s rather an effort for Clint, Nigel and Wayne to mobilize for a weekend trip up there to lend a hand.

It seems strange things are afoot in Blackpool. Initially it appears to be confined to the model village Geoff is building, where figures are moving around of their own accord and, even more disturbing, figures Geoff didn’t even make for the village are appearing out of nowhere. If that was the only strange thing happening it could be written off as voodoo gone wrong, which has been known to happen to Geoff on an occasion or two.

It quickly becomes apparent, however, that there are larger forces at work in Blackpool. Is it simply that the local council has disturbing plans to turn Blackpool into the Las Vegas of England, or is something more sinister at work, something that could threaten to tear a hole in the fabric of the Universe? Well, whatever it is, the Hidden Masters have to wrap things up by Sunday night… they do have to be back at work on Monday after all. (more…)

Given the life he’s lead, Markus may need a notebook to keep track of those names. A childhood scarred by violence lead Markus to a youthful life of crime, one which was only enhanced by his “training” in the “gladiator schools” he was routinely incarcerated in as a result of his criminal activity.

Older and wiser, Markus has remade himself into an upstanding citizen, having moved with his young family from the crime-filled Oakland area to upstate California, to the seemingly idyllic Stagger Bay. His past comes back to haunt him when he’s wrongfully arrested and convicted of the horrific murder of an entire family and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.

When he’s finally exonerated by DNA evidence after seven long years, Markus returns to Stagger Bay to find his brother dead at the hands of the police and his wife the victim of her own addictions, having OD’d not long after Markus went to prison. His son, now seventeen and a virtual stranger, wants nothing to do with him, neither do the town’s residents despite Markus having been cleared of the crime. Seeing no reason to stay where he’s not wanted and there’s nothing left for him, Makrus heads out of town… and that’s when his life really gets crazy. (more…)