Deadly Odds 5.0 by Allen Wyler

Although this is the first book reviewed in this blog by Allen Wyler, the author appears to be a fairly prolific writer. Deadly Odds 5.0 is the fifth book in the Deadly Odds series, and he has written several other series as well. The protagonist, Arnold Gold, quit his lifelong passion for gambling because his girlfriend, Rachel, demanded that he quit the thing that he loved and excelled, so if he wanted to continue the relationship with her. He had been living in Seattle, and he and Rachel, a dedicated nurse, agreed to move to Honolulu where Gold bought another home in Honolulu where they began living together, a first for them both. Having not read the earlier books in the series, it’s my assumption that Wyler developed that relationship over the course of the first four books. However, in this book Rachel had no redeeming features. All she did was complain about his work habits as he developed his own computer security company, which he loved doing but which he also said was an attempt to provide for both of them. She was nothing but an intolerant bitch and I just wanted to see Gold tell to get lost, and I won’t tell you if that happened in the course of this novel.

 

This book was a high-tech and hacker story, really a contest between Gold and his chief nemesis Ramesh Singh, about the strange phenomena of two startup companies in Seattle which showed great promise until they were on the verge of going public when seemingly credible information revealed both companies had hidden information from the public and their progress had been bogus. Both companies lost all standing, were not funded in their respective IPOs and ended up in bankruptcy. 

 

As the FBI investigated the companies’ failures, it was due to someone having shorted their purchases of the companies’ shares, so when they lost value, that led someone made a killing. All leads pointed directly to Carlos Lopez who loved his job and was oblivious to the shenanigans of which he was accused. He quickly sought legal advice with a firm that had previously relied on Gold to help them understand financial happenings in the dark web. The story advanced from trying to gather information to high tech sleuthing. Wyler presented a compelling cast of characters, good guys and bad guys, as well as some sexual tension between Gold and a woman he deemed to be an ideal hire to expand his operation, as well as between Gold and a woman lawyer at the firm for whom he was working. The plot was revealed in a timely manner and the end game of this book was very well conceived. 

 

I will be happy to read more of Wyler’s works.

 

West Coast Don

Hell and Back by Craig Johnson

Full disclosure . . . I am a HUGE fan of Craig Johnson and the hero of novels. The sheriff of Absaroka County Wyoming, Walt Longmire. And not just a fan of the books, but also all 6 seasons of shows available on Netflix. This is #18 (just released) and I think all previous Longmire books have been reviewed here.

And this one is borderline bizarre.

Brief backstory. Fort Pratt, Montana is a real place. A few years before the dawn of the 20^th century, Ft. Pratt was home to the Fort Pratt Industrial Indian Boarding School. One of those horrific attempts at ‘squelching’ the Indian race by through a forced ‘education’ program. Kill the spirit, save the man. Fort Pratt is infamous amongst the Native populations. 1896. 31 boys were burned to death in a fire that consumed their dormitory.

Our story begins with Walt. Flat on his back in Fort Pratt, MT. His heavy sheepskin coat frozen to the blacktop. And he’s no idea where he is much less who he is. He has his sidearm, minus one bullet. Got his hat, too. And that’s important because it’s the only tangible clue to his identity. Inside the sweatband is written ‘Walt Longmire.’ It’s New Years Eve.

He wakes up at 8:17p. Pries himself off the street. Looks around. Snowing like hell. Nearby, a small cemetery is covered in snow. Beyond the cemetery is an arched gateway tell all who pass through that they are at the Fort Pratt Industrial Indian Boarding School, or what’s left of it.

None of that helps him figure out more about himself, where he is, why he is in Fort Pratt, and where’s home. A café down the road in town appears to be open so Walt ambles in. The waitress looks terribly familiar, but from where? Tries to get something to eat but the server seems to be talking in circles. But she did make a good burger.

Finishes eating. It’s 8:17p. And despite all evidence to the contrary, the snow is not getting any deeper. Asks this Martha where he might find a room. She points him to the hotel where a young man, also familiar, is doing some rehab work on the structure. Only one room is fit for a guest and Walt can have it. Room 31.

As Walt is trying to deduce what the hell is going on, his undersheriff, Victoria (Vic) Moretti and Henry Standing Bear have set out from Wyoming in search of Walt as he hasn’t checked in like he normally does. So we have Walk pushing from one direction and Vic/Henry pushing from the opposite direction.

Somehow, Walt has fallen into The Wandering Without, aka Éveohtsé -heómesé. A Stealer of Souls. A spirit that exists to gather souls who have passed on but have yet to pass through this prairie of nothingness that should be leading to the afterlife.

Each new encounter provides another clue to Walt’s predicament. And try and can, the only common thread between who he meets in and around Fort Pratt is himself. More specifically, these are all people whose cause of death was by Walt’s hand (or gun). Is Walt a ghost? If he is, he must be dead. The one thing he seems to be learning is that ‘all haunting is regret.’

Walt struggles. A lot. There are plenty of things that keep frustrating him. 8:17. 31. The school. While the book plays out over a single night, Walt is living in the Native American’s version of Groundhog Day (the Bill Murray flick). Relives things over and over and getting the same outcome.

Johnson has done the proverbial deep dive into this in-between land that is a part of the Native American culture. Easily 80-85% of the book is Walt trying to figure out what and where all this started and where it’s going. All the spiritualism, ghosts, people from past lives is more reminiscent of the late great Tony Hillerman whose stories were set amongst the Navajo Nation (Johnson’s books deal with the Cheyenne Nation).

Get this bizarre western (is there such a genre?). Spend some time floating through the Wandering Without’s world with Walt. Guaranteed to keep you puzzled right up to the end. 

East Coast Don

A Disturbing Nature by Brian LeBeau

A Disturbing Nature by Brian LeBeau is a historical fiction about two serial killers in the 1970s, especially about The FBI agent, legendary Chief Investigator Francis Palmer, as well as Ted Bundy in California and Utah, and Maurice “Mo” Lumen in Virginia and Massachusetts. When Palmer was on the hunt, he essentially tried to live in the mind of the killers, and while effective, it was particularly damaging to Palmer’s life. In pursuit, Palmer was dedicated to his task to the exclusion of all else. It cost him his marriage and the relationships with his daughters, and he was smoking cigarettes and drinking to great excess, all as an ill-chosen means of managing his stress. 

 

As Palmer was pursuing Bundy, he had figured out that the killer had to be Bundy who was doing the serial killings, but Bundy was so smart that he was able to outfox the FBI and to cover his tracks for an extended period of time. Bundy knew Palmer was on his trail, but he was cocky about his ability to carry on with the killings. He had become a law student near the end of his murders, allegedly learning enough about the law to keep his arrest from occurring. It was horrible for Palmer when he was about to draw the net closed on Bundy that the FBI pulled him back to Massachusetts to pursue another serial killer. Palmer did all that he could to get the Bureau to change its mind, but he could not beat the politics of the FBI at that time. The author seemed to use known details about Bundy to help legitimize Palmer and the complications of catching a new serial killer. LeBeau was quite successful in doing so.

 

Mo was nearly 25 as his part of the story began. The back story filled in details, that Mo had a horrible childhood which included his mother’s early death and then placement in the foster system when his father, a severe alcoholic, could not take care of him and his brother. Years before her death, the patient’s mother had an affair with a black man which produced Mo’s brother, and the author used that idea to talk about the racism that infiltrated the social structure and social agencies in both Virginia and Massachusetts at the time. It was as a young boy that Mo suffered a prolonged seizure which left him brain damaged. As the result of the seizure his emotional development was arrested at about the age of 11, and he seemed to be 0doomed to becoming a laborer for his life. In his foster family, Mo was also the victim mistreatment by the favored daughter Emily who falsely accused him of various misdeeds. The foster family was willing to adopt his little brother, but Mo was cast out, and he became a groundskeeper at a small college in Massachusetts where he continued to have relationship problems with small minded people. Mo did grow up loving baseball, and upon moving to Massachusetts, he quickly became a great fan of the Boston Red Sox. The story of his love of the game and the remarkable 1975 baseball playoffs and World Series was woven very successfully into the story.

 

The only part of the story that made me feel critical was when Palmer talked to a psychologist who did an evaluation of Mo. The use of diagnostic terminology was loose and questionable, but that information fit nicely into the story. LeBeau did a marvelous job developing complimentary characters, both good guys and bad ones, with whom Mo became involved. The complications of trying to pin down the serial killer and the deaths of 12 young women was masterfully told. There were developments at the end of the story that I did not foresee, and the book was enjoyable right to the very end. I will be more than happy to read more books by LeBeau.

A Galway Epiphany by Ken Bruen

Night watchman has his routine. Makes his checks. Logs them in. Sits down for a snack. Maybe a snooze. Until he feels a cool liquid being poured over him. Smells a lot like . . . Gasoline . . . and then a stranger strikes a match.

Father Malachy is in line to become the next Bishop in Galway. But he can’t be declared until the Vatican rules on a strange happening – a statue of Mary has been said to be crying – and the Vatican isn’t ready to use “m” word just yet.

Crowds gather around the statue day and night. But it’s not until a 2^nd ‘miracle’ happens. A man has been struck by a truck on the street in front of the statue. Three kids/teenagers amongst the crowd peel off and attend to the victim in the street. The crowd watches as the man, out cold, miraculously has not a scratch on him. Paramedics arrive. He’s still unconscious. In a coma actually. They take the man to the hospital where he lies in a coma for about 2-3 weeks. In the meantime, he’s been identified . . .

Jack Taylor

Former Guardia officer, sometime private investigator, lover of modern literature and music . . .  and nearly full-time drunk and drug abuser. A guy who seems to be a focal point for bad events occurring to his friends. A good beating and death are Jack’s roommates.

Jack’s been living, of you call it that, with his pet falcon on the farm of a friend (who came to his aid in Bruen’s previous book, Galway Girl). Keefer is a former roadie with the Rolling Stones who inherited the farm and managed to be an OK day trader. Jack’s reputation still gets him some PI-types of jobs . . . find those miracle kids, track down the arsonist, take out his own worthless life choices on an abusive husband, locate the killer of another wife, figure out who is slitting throats across Galway. On top of all that, a priest wants to end it all but can’t because suicide is a mortal sin and asks Jack to kill him. Guess God doesn't view murder’s quite as bad as suicide. God keeps track. All without getting in his own way with the Church, the Guardia, his favorite pubs, and what few friends he hasn’t managed to offend and kick him to the curb.

But what of his life after he wraps all that up all of that in a pretty bow? What’s it get him? I’ll not tell you other than I audibly gasped . . .

For reasons I can’t express, I’d kind of let Bruen slip off my radar. And that’s unfortunate. Extremely. Bruen is a writer of extreme talent but remains a bit of an acquired taste. His books are all dark. Make that exceedingly dark. Tales of the downtrodden, be it Taylor or other, being quashed by Galway or life or their own personal maladies. One of the first books of his, Once Were Cops, scared the ever loving crap out of me. His prose is sparse and presented in machine gun rapidity. Taylor is not your routine idealistic PI. Nor is he admirable. He’s pretty much a degenerate slug who still has some fleeting sense of justice. Holdover from his Guardia days I suspect.

You can find a short 3-season story arc for Jack Taylor on Prime Videos with Iain Glen taking on the difficult role and giving Taylor a look and voice to take with you every time you open A Jack Taylor book. And you know who Glen is if you can’t place his name and face. He played Jorah Mormontin Game of Thrones. He is a helluva a Jack Taylor. Sure wish that series would come back. I thought it was terrific. 

Can’t recall the last Bruen book I read, but having sort of rediscovered him, it won’t be long before I’m back.

 

East Coast Don

The Bullet Garden by Stephen Hunter

In the days before D-Day, groups of soldiers were parachuted behind German lines to destroy bridges to make reinforcements to Normandy difficult. Lt. Leets is dropped into eastern France. The bridge is in sight. The team has their mission and need help of the local resistance. When the assault on the bridge is made, the resistance force is withdrawn, the team is mostly destroyed, but Lt. Leets does manage to partially cripple their target and escape with a minor wound. He knows the truth, but not the details. Someone leaked information to the Germans. They were waiting. 

In the weeks after D-Day, the Allies push inland on a merciless assault on the Nazis. Once a foothold in Europe has been secured, multiple fronts are lined up to push east. One front goes more northerly while another heads towards the south. The main force is to lead the way heading for Paris and then Germany. If they can just get out of those damnable hedgerows and plow fields.

One the western side, you have the Allies. Massive infantry. Sherman tanks. Artillery. None of which were prepared for the terrain. On the eastern side, the Germans wait. They too have amassed infantry and artillery. And the dreaded Tiger and Panzer tanks whose designs are years in advance of the Allies.

In between lay those farm fields bordered by centuries-old hedgerows. Little is happening on this front. Allied night patrols head out to gather information about enemy strengths. Problem in that when a squad commander peaks up over the mounds surrounding the fields, they get picked off. Single shot. Head shot. Cut down in the dark or in that tweener hour between night and day. For weeks, the Allies lose hundreds of command level soldiers. To say that these nearly silent gunners have also shot down Allied morale is an understatement. Squad and group commanders are scared shitless to head out on patrol in fear of getting picked off one by one. The expanse dividing the two armies has been named by the in-the-dirt allied soldiers:

The Bullet Garden

That a bunch of German snipers have effectively stalled the advance of the main allied force has Eisenhower infuriated. The snipers must be beaten to keep the balance of the war in favor of the Allies. Ike entrusts the mission to the newly hatched OSS. Find the best shooters in the US military. Give them anything and everything they need to break this stalemate.

The buck eventually makes its way to a Marine Gunnery Sergeant at Parris Island teaching recruits how to shoot while recovering from wounds suffered in the Pacific theater: Gunnery Sergeant Earl Swagger. He’s not too thrilled at sitting out the war in South Carolina so when the call comes from the Supreme Commander (even though he is Army and not Marine), Earl says, ‘let’s go’ (as if he had a choice). Upon arrival and after only a few days, Earl has earned the reputation of being a War God. One of those types for whom war and the razor’s edge the warrior treads is the only place where they are truly alive.

Earl is teamed up with Lt. Leets and a small cadre of go-fers to help Swagger’s investigation. Earl knows how to shoot, of course. More importantly, he knows how to hunt. Given the number of GIs killed by a single bullet, Earl knows he is hunting a team of snipers. And the successful hunter gathers as much intel as possible before making his strike. He must learn about the primary shooter, the sniper’s team, how and where the lead shooter learned his craft, the weapons being used, the ammunition, the camouflage, the terrain, the day-to-day weather, where the shooters are positioned, how the dead where killed, what was happening at the time of the kill. Details mere mortals like us can never fathom. All the while dealing with officer squabbling and jealousy, petty political infighting, trips back and forth from London to the front, a seriously hot assistant to Swagger’s immediate superior, the nighttime London parties where the real deals get planned . . . and whomever is leaking information about Allied plans.

Once Earl gets the profile of his opponent defined (and to use a phrase used in other Hunter books): It’s time to hunt.

If you’ve landed here on the Men Reading Books site, we are betting you already know that the boys at MRB believe in all things Swagger. In Earl (and Bob Lee) we trust. We’ve read all of Hunter’s novels over the years and trust me when I say this: Hunter ALWAYS delivers. This may be one of his longer novels, but I’m guessing it was one of the fastest reads.

Is Hunter the best thriller writer out there? I don’t know. That’s a subjective question. To borrow (and rephrase) a quote from the former Houston Oilers’ coach Bum Phillips (when discussing Earl Campbell): Hunter may not be in a class by himself . . . but it doesn’t take long to call the roll. Love the backstories of the Swagger men. This is the fourth Earl Swagger book. More have to be coming.  We now wait impatiently for the next chapter of the Swagger family saga.

In the meantime, if we awarded 1-5 stars for the books we review, this would get a 10. Thanks to the good folks at Atria Books and Emily Bestler Books for sending us both an advance reader copy. You all are the best.

 

East Coast Don & West Coast Don

 

p.s. I (ECD) keep telling you to pay attention to the publishers. I don’t know if Hunter went looking for a new publisher or this publisher went out and snatched him up. What I do know is that Emily Bestler Books now has Hunter is her stable of outstanding thriller writers and is well on the way to cornering the thriller market. I have yet to read a Emily Bestler Books thriller that wasn’t a top shelf adventure.

P.P.S. the bad news is that The Bullet Garden isn’t slated for publication until Jan 24, 2023. Put a note on your calendar . . . NOW, before you forget.

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

I’ve tried to read Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina a couple times over the last 50 years, but I found the language to be daunting, and it was difficult to keep all the Russian names and nicknames straight. Then, this book was on the list of the New York Times 15 best audio books ever produced, narrated by Maggie Gyllenhaal. I decided to give it a try, again. I don’t intend for this review to be a comprehensive comment about this tome, written in the style of Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Gogol, and the lesser known Vasily Grossman (Life and Fate).

 

The story, 780 pages published in 1878, takes place in Imperial Russia, and in my mind, gives a definitive picture of the highly defective lives of the Russian nobility. Anna, a strikingly beautiful woman, married a respected and powerful statesman, Karenina, but it was a passionless marriage. Seeking love and passion, she began an affair with Count Vronsky which she hoped to lead out her life in love and eternal happiness. But, this is a story of tragedy. There were contrasting figures like Levin and his wife Kitty, who did have a marriage of love. Tolstoy explores the characters in much greater depth than what we are used to seeing in more contemporary novels. The language is dense, and it reminded me of the definition of rococo architecture which features exuberant decoration, lots of curves and counter-curves, and undulations. Rococo is theatrical and intended to impress one on first sight. Certainly the language of Tolstoy fits this definition as he waxes elegantly about the emotions of these characters which shift with each new even in their lives.

 

The Gyllenhall version of the book takes 35 ½ hours to listen, and it was a good companion as I walked my dog in the early morning hours. If this Russian genre interests you at all, I found the audio book with a great narrator to be worth listening to. It is a literature classic.

West Coast Don

West With Giraffes by Lynda Rutledge

West With Giraffes is a 2021 novel of historical fiction written by Lynda Rutledge. It’s a true story upon which she has beautifully expanded beyond the few facts she found in the achives of the San Diego Zoo. The story takes place in 1938 at a time when the Great Depression was still having a serious impact on the world’s population, Hitler was beginning his own expansionist activities in Europe, and the Dust Bowl was driving people out of their family homes in the Great Plains. The recently formed San Diego Zoo had acquired two giraffes, the likes of which had never been seen west of the Mississippi River. The story did become a major news event as the US population seemed to revel in what seemed like a wonderful distraction from the tragedies that were happening on a daily basis. It’s a story about an Okie’s journey who loved animals and who fell desperately in love with the giraffes.

 

The story was already a big one by the time the boat carrying the giraffes reached New York Harbor. The boat had come through the Great New England Hurricane of 1938, the most damaging major hurricane ever to reach the East Coast, at least until Sandy in 2012. The boat limped into port and the survival of the giraffes was a surprise. The story continued on the state-by-state trip across the country, and the adventures were many. It’s told in the voice of Woody Nickel, a 17-year-old Okie, (actually the Texas Panhandle, but everyone from the area was considered an Okie).

 

The reader gets to learn about a redheaded woman who was fleeing her marriage in order to follow her dream of becoming a photo journalist. The animal keeper who was in charge had also led a mysterious life, and they were all trying to get the giraffes to Belle Benchley, a dynamo of a woman and the first woman to run a zoo in the U.S.

 

 I loved this book, and the author had me hooked into the story within the first couple pages of the novel. My sister sent me her copy and my wife announced that she had already read it and loved it. These are two very literate women whose recommendations should have more influence than my own.

West Coast Don