Review: "Death of an Ex" by Delia Pitts

Death of an Ex by Delia Pitts Minotaur Books, 2025     Death of an Ex, which is Delia Pitts’s second Vandy Myrick mystery, is a thoughtful, deliberately paced private eye novel with a rich New Jersey setting and a heaping of emotional healing. A former Rutgers University cop, the middle-aged Vandy moved back to her small hometown of Queenstown and took a job as a lawyer’s “pet private investigator.” Her boss, Elissa Adesanya, is also Vandy’s best friend and the work tends to be low market rackets like divorce, insurance fraud, and process serving. Vandy is thrown into the deep end of the investigative pool after attending a glitzy event at the high-end Rome School—a private boarding school in Queenstown—where her young friend, Ingrid Ramirez, is receiving an award. Vandy’s ex-husband, Philip Bolden, which is a great surname for any character, is at the reception and even after twenty years he still makes Vandy’s pulse rise and her knees weak. A few days later Vandy takes Philip to her bed and for a moment she doesn’t mind being the other woman. That changes when Philip is gunned down a few blocks from Vandy’s apartment and Vandy is left to figure out who did it and why. All while traversing the mine field of Philip’s personal life—he was married with a teenage son and his wandering libido caused nothing but trouble. While also hoping to keep her and Philip’s indiscretion a secret. Death of an Ex, while rightfully a private eye tale, has the atmosphere of an amateur sleuth in a particularly well-done cozy. Vandy’s investigative style is circular and primarily based on emotion rather than the linear style most often used in detective tales. She bumps around the primary suspects, as sneakily as an English Village sleuth, looking for motive and opportunity. A wobbly tactic because of its use of repetition—a repetition of Vandy’s emotions and a repetition of questioning the same suspects over and over—to deepen the mystery, but one that ultimately works since it reveals the illogic and tragedy of murder. But the true charm of Death of an Ex is Vandy’s own struggle with the death of her only child and Pitts’s vivid rendering of a predominately Black New Jersey town.

Check out Death of an Ex on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the hardcover.

 

Review: "The Blue Horse" by Bruce Borgos

The Blue Horse by Bruce Borgos Minotaur Books, 2025   Bruce Borgos’s third Sheriff Porter Beck procedural, The Blue Horse, opens with a pop and a wow—a BLM (Bureau of Land Management) wild horse gather, also known as a roundup, is interrupted when a helicopter crashes while pushing a herd through a narrow canyon in Beck’s Lincoln County, Nevada—but ends with a shrug and a sigh. Beck, who was watching the gather from the back of his own horse, locks down the crash site almost immediately. And in no time at all Beck and his deputy, Tuffy Scruggs, determine it was no accident. The pilot was shot by a sniper and they even find a spent shell casing atop a blue plastic toy horse. The primary suspect is Etta Clay, the leader of a wild horse advocacy group called CANTER. The local Nevada ranchers, and the BLM’s leadership, think CANTER is fanatical since it has compared the removal of wild horses from Nevada’s rangeland to genocide. But Beck isn’t so sure of Etta’s involvement in the killing or that CANTER is wrong about the way the horses are managed on public lands. Then Lincoln County is shocked by another brutal murder and while the two killings are different in style, Beck figures they must be related. The Blue Horse has a complex plot with angles and nuance—the Montreal mafia plays into it, as do ranchers, modern mining, Beck, who suffers from night blindness due to a congenital disease called retinitis pigmentosa, and, since the action takes place in September 2020, so dies Covid. Not to mention, Beck’s sister goes missing in a national park. While the complexity adds drama, it lessens the impact of the action and makes the climactic clash a little ho-hum. The villains are nasty, but (especially in the last third of the narrative) are cartoonish and have all the subtlety and competence of clowns. With that in mind, Beck is solidly drawn and likable, the setting is vivid, and the didactic discussion about wild horses is interesting as heck. If you like Craig Johnson’s Longmire, you’ll enjoy The Blue Horse, but all the while wish it had that same richness as Borgos’s previous novels.

Check out The Blue Horse on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the hardcover.

 

Review: "Them Bones" by David Housewright

 

Them Bones by David Housewright Minotaur Books, 2025   David Housewright’s Them Bones—which is the twenty-second Rushmore McKenzie mystery—is a tale of… well, two tales of the same story. Okay, not really two tales, but rather a single story told in two different styles. The McKenzie books are written in first person from the perspective of McKenzie—an unlicensed private eye in Minnesota’s Twin Cities, that spends his time doing favors for friends. But Them Bones is distinct from its predecessors because the crime is detailed in third person from the perspective of the client, Angela Bjork. We last saw Angela as a girl saving McKenzie’s life in The Taking of Libbie, SD (2010), but now she is all grown up and working on her Ph.D. in paleontology at the University of Minnesota. Angela discovered a nearly intact fossil of an Ankylosaurus while working a dinosaur dig in Montana. It was a profound find because it is the most complete of its kind, but before the bones can be transported to the Twin Cities, the skull was stolen. Angela tells McKenzie, and the reader, about the discovery (in May) and the heist (in August) and everything that happened in-between. In this unofficial prologue, Angela introduces the suspects—professors, students, and other miscellany—that were present at the dig site when the heist occurred. The paleontology stuff was interesting, including how the dig was done, the problems they encountered and personalities involved; however, it took so long, about a quarter of the narrative, that I had begun thinking McKenzie had the week off. But once McKenzie agrees to help Angela recover the Ankylosaurus, and he takes charge of the narrative things really pick up. In fact, Them Bones, suddenly becomes a McKenzie novel. With his subtle and not-so-subtle wit, his penchant for finding trouble and breaking the rules, and his always gallant search for justice, McKenzie does an admirable job of flushing out the villains. The action moves from college campuses (there are two), to a museum, to high class neighborhoods, and from Minnesota to Montana to Canada and back again. And it is a good bit of fun. But that opening prologue made the entire enterprise a little wobbly. Its length almost made me give up before the good stuff started, which I’ve never encountered with David Housewright’s writing. It felt like Housewright was setting-up a traditional whodunit, which is cool, but (for me at least) it never quite worked that way. What I did like about Them Bones is far more than what I disliked. As usual, the setting—the Twin Cities, Montana, and even rural Canada—was vivid and melded perfectly with the story. The actual mystery, who was the Inside Man that helped the thieves steal the skull, is compelling and McKenzie’s self-deprecating style and often flippant attitude is fun. There is a good deal of subterfuge and the final reveal is both surprising and perfectly right. But a few hours spent with McKenzie, even in a flawed tale like Them Bones, is always a chore to look forward to.

Find Them Bones on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the paperback.

Review: "Marguerite by the Lake" by Mary Dixie Carter

Marguerite by the Lake by Mary Dixie Carter Minotaur Books, 2025   Mary Dixie Carter’s second novel, Marguerite by the Lake—which is scheduled for release on May 20—is a brilliant thriller that will remind readers of Daphne du Maurier’s gothic masterpiece, Rebecca. Marguerite Gray is as successful as she is beautiful. A gardening and lifestyle influencer, Marguerite lives with her husband, Geoffrey, at their Rosecliff mansion overlooking “the spiral-shaped” Lake Spiro in rural Connecticut. Marguerite’s brand is built around Rosecliff, which she writes about and photographs exhaustively for her millions of followers. While Margeurite takes credit for Rosecliff’s glory, it is Phoenix Sullivan that designs the grounds and keeps the roses blooming. But this admittedly unequal relationship works because Phoenix would rather have her hands in the soil than anywhere else; however, their relationship begins changing when Phoenix saves Geoffrey from being crushed by a falling tree. Margeurite becomes more circumspect, even suspicious, with Phoenix. And things escalate when Geoffrey begins paying more attention to Phoenix—seeking her out on the grounds, inviting her into the house for drinks—before ultimately coaxing her into his bed. Then Marguerite plummets to her death and Phoenix moves into Rosecliff with Geoffrey. A move that seems wonderful to Phoenix at first, but she quickly begins hearing whispers from the staff. A detective, an old high school classmate of Phoenix’s, won’t stop pestering her about Marguerite’s death, and Geoffrey and Margeurite’s adult daughter, Taylor, moves back to Rosecliff. Taylor is a younger version of Margeurite and her hostility makes Phoenix feel small. And Margeurite seems to be haunting Rosecliff, speaking to Phoenix in hushed tones, and trying to destroy the younger woman. Marguerite by the Lake is a claustrophobic gem littered with paranoia, betrayal (both real and imagined), and a beating soul as terrifying as Poe’s “Tell-Tale Heart.” Phoenix’s unreliable narration—made so by her own paranoia and guilt—is taut with suspense and infused with a teetering madness that makes it both terrifying and fascinating. The plot twists are small and act less to surprise the reader than to push Phoenix closer to her own demise. Marguerite by the Lake is a splendid and inventive thriller, and it is hands down the best book I’ve read so far this year.

Check out Marguerite by the Lake on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the hardcover.

Review: "Skin and Bones and Other Mike Bowditch Short Stories" by Paul Doiron

 

Skin and Bones and Other Mike Bowditch Short Stories by Paul Doiron Minotaur Books, 2025   Paul Doiron’s Skin and Bones, is an engaging collection of eight mystery stories. The tales are set in the world of Maine game warden, Mike Bowditch—Doiron has written fifteen Bowditch novels so far—but a few are told from the perspective of Bowditch’s mentor and retired warden, Charley Stevens. Many of the stories are closer to novelette than short story length, which allows Doiron the room to paint his characters with a rich hue and his rural Maine setting with vivid color. Even better, he does all this without an unnecessary word or losing the mystery for the trees. “Bear Trap”—which is one of Charley Stevens’s tales—is a play on the impossible crime. As a young warden Charley is confronted by an almost mythical hermit—nicknamed Sweet Tooth because of his proclivity for stealing candy—with a knack for burgling camps and then disappearing like a ghost. When Sweet Tooth raids the stores of a summer camp for underprivileged boys, Charley decides it’s time to introduce Sweet Tooth to Lady Justice. But first he must discover how the thief comes and goes so easily. In “Rabid,” Charley Stevens is called to the isolated home of John Hussey. Hussey, like Charley, is a Vietnam veteran but unlike Charley, Hussey’s post-war behavior has been erratic. When Charley arrives at the house, Hussey’s Vietnamese wife, Giang, says her husband was bitten by a bat. But Charley is more worried that Hussey is abusing his wife and daughter. Charley’s own wife gets involved in this one, and both she and Giang believe Hussey may have rabies. There is a nice surprise ending with a delicious slice of morality in the recipe. Something of a Sherlock Holmes pastiche, “The Caretaker”—which is narrated by Bowditch—stars Charley as a Holmes-like detective and Bowditch in Dr. Watson’s role. Together Charley and Bowditch investigate a harassment complaint by a Boston couple while staying in their backwoods summer home. Charley does a fine job of detection—he seems to notice everything, no matter how small—and Bowditch is duly impressed with Charley’s almost supernatural powers. But it is the solution, while revealing a serious crime, that makes “The Caretaker” downright fun. “Sheep’s Clothing,” which is the backwoods version of an English village murder mystery, finds the recently demoted Bowditch investigating what seems to be a murder-suicide of a couple living in poverty on a large patch of land. But Bowditch isn’t sure the husband killed his wife or himself. There are multiple suspects—the dead husband, an estranged son, his truly awful fiancée, the fiancée’s unempathetic brother are only four of them. There is more than one well-timed twist, which makes for bunches of fun. Skin and Bones is my first experience reading Paul Doiron’s fiction. The high-quality of the writing, the tight plotting, and the subtle humor (especially when Charley Stevens is on the page) impressed me enough that I’m planning to find another title in the Bowditch series to read. And likely another one after that, which is assuming the novels are as good as the tales presented here.

Check out Skin and Bones at Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the trade paperback.

Review: "Bad Moon" by Todd Ritter

 

Bad Moon by Todd Ritter Minotaur Books, 2011   Bad Moon—which is the second of three mysteries featuring Perry Hollow, Pennsylvania, police chief, Kat Campbell—is a white-knuckle ride loaded with twists and thrills and unsuspected revelations. When Nick Donnelly, a homicide investigator for the State Police before being drummed out after an injury, calls Kat hoping for her help on a cold case his Foundation was hired to solve. On July 20, 1969, the same day Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, ten-year-old Charlie Olmstead went missing from his home. Charlie’s bicycle was found in the water just above Sunset Falls and the police, led by Kat’s father, Jim, ruled his death an accident. But Charlie’s body was never found and his mother, Maggie, believed her son was kidnapped and may still be alive. While on her death bed, Maggie made her only other child, the bestselling novelist Eric Olmstead, promise to find Charlie. So Eric, back in Perry Hollow to bury his mother, hired Nick and with Kat’s unofficial help—after all, the case was closed more than 40-years ago—the trio follow the scant clues into a shocking web of murder. Bad Moon is lightning paced and teeters on the edge of psychological thriller; which makes sense because Todd Ritter has since gained fame for the twisty psychological thrillers he writes as Riley Sager. Ritter litters, in a good way, the narrative with conflicting personal motivations and shades of character compromise. Kat is compromised by her deceased father’s involvement in the case and a relationship she had with Eric as a teenager. Nick’s conflict is with his injury and a grudge he holds against the State Police for his ignominious termination. And Eric is crippled with guilt for leaving his mother alone for so many decades. But it is the plot that matters most because everything else is subterfuge to keep the climactic reveals hidden until they pop onto the page. And oh boy, does it work.

Bad Moon is currently out-of-print, which is a shame because I had a really good time reading it—and if you enjoy an occasional twisted and surprising thriller, where the plot surpasses everything, you likely will too. And don’t worry about reading the series in order because I didn’t have any trouble following Bad Moon, which was my first experience with Kat Campbell and Todd Ritter.

Review: "A Hard Ticket Home" by David Housewright

 

A Hard Ticket Home by David Housewright Minotaur Books, 2004   David Housewright’s first Rushmore McKenzie, A Hard Ticket Home, had escaped my reading eye until now. Before turning its first page, I had read eleven of the 22 books in the series so far and it was fun to see how McKenzie has changed from his first outing to the latest. One thing I noticed—many of McKenzie’s friends, including his best pal Bobby Dunston, call him, “Mac,” which isn’t the case as the series goes on. Another is, McKenzie is moodier in this first story than any of the others I’ve read. Of course he kills a few people and another is killed because of his snooping. But for the most part McKenzie is the same dented and likable hero as he has always been. A Hard Ticket Home opens with a telling of how a St. Paul beat cop, McKenzie, became a millionaire, and it was fun to have the nitty gritty of his future wealth spelled out. But the real meat of the story is about McKenzie’s search for Jamie Carlson. Seven years earlier, Jamie went missing from her parents’ Grand Rapids, Minnesota, home. Her parents—Jamie’s father built a deck for McKenzie’s lake house, which is how they’re acquainted—didn’t search for Jamie when she disappeared but now their younger daughter, Stacy, has leukemia and they are hoping Jamie is a match as a bone marrow donor. McKenzie tracks Jamie down without difficulty, which is when his (and Jamie’s) trouble begins. That trouble takes McKenzie inside a ruthless street gang, onto the guest list of an elite group of entrepreneurs, and turns him into a play thing of the FBI and ATF. A Hard Ticket Home’s Minnesota is less finely detailed than in the future books, but even so, the setting is nicely rendered. It is good fun to watch McKenzie and his series long paramour, Nina Truhler, meet in Nina’s jazz club, Rikkie’s, for the first time. The action, and as one expects from McKenzie there is a bunch, is top-notch and exciting. There are shootings, fisticuffs—including one that nearly kills McKenzie—and even an explosion. The mystery is fine-tuned with more than a couple twists, including a marvelous one near the end. Even better, McKenzie is his usual flawed, smart-alecky, and likable as hell self.

Find A Hard Ticket Home on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the paperback.

Playing Roulette with Minotaur Books

 

Playing Roulette with Minotaur Books   If you’ve been paying attention to the blog, you’ve already noticed my recent devotion to the writings of David Housewright; especially his long-running series about unlicensed Twin Cities P.I., Rushmore McKenzie. Back in February, 2024, I noticed the library had a shelf full of the McKenzie books in hardcover, which jangled my memory of when the long gone and fabled Leisure Books—fabled at my house, anyway—was reprinting the series in mass market during the second half of the ’00s. A title that had caught my attention back then was the second book in the series, Tin City (2005). I bought it but never read it, lost it in one move or another, and utterly forgot about both the series and Housewright. But this library bookshelf rekindled my interest in the series. So being a studious kind—and never really caring if I start with the first or twentieth title in a series—I studied each book, mostly looking at the blurbs from trades like Publishers Weekly (which I agree with often) and Kirkus (which I agree with less often) and settled on the eleventh book, The Devil May Care (2014), because it had received a starred review from PW. And wow did that book hit every note just right. To say I was hooked is an understatement. After turning the last page, I rushed to the library to retrieve the first book in the series, A Hard Ticket Home (2003), which of course wasn’t in the collection and so I rolled to the second, Tin City. The very same title that had caught my eye nearly two decades earlier.

After racing through a handful of the McKenzie’s, an idea jittered and popped. An idea that went something like this: the library has a bunch of mysteries published by Minotaur Books—the same house that has brought out all twenty-one of the McKenzie books—in the late ’00s and throughout the ’10s; so, I decided, I would concentrate much of my non-mandatory reading to the Minotaur Books sitting on the library’s shelves. And it went well, even though it was kind of like playing roulette with my reading since I often knew nothing about the books or authors before picking them up. Although I’ll admit I took too much advantage of the McKenzie’s since they accounted for eleven of the nineteen Minotaur titles I read. All eight of the authors were new to me and I have every intention of reading more books by at least five of those writers: David Housewright, Sasscer Hill, Brian McGilloway, John Keyse-Walker, and J. D. Rhoades. Due to sheer meanness, I chose not to finish two of the titles: Ranchero, by Rick Gavin (2011), and L’Assassin, by Peter Steiner (2008). As for 2025, I’m thinking of sticking to the game plan for at least the first few months, but after that, who knows? Maybe I’ll schedule my reading around Golden Books or maybe Harlequin’s NASCAR romance series or…. Here’s the rundown of the Minotaur Books I checked out from the library and read in 2024 (click the titles for the review, if I wrote one):

February The Devil May Care, by David Housewright (2014) – McKenzie #11 Tin City, by David Housewright (2005) – McKenzie #2

March Pretty Girl Gone, by David Housewright (2006) – McKenzie #3 Madman on a Drum, by David Housewright (2008) – McKenzie #5 The Taking of Libbie, SD, by David Housewright (2010) – McKenzie #7

April Flamingo Road, by Sasscer Hill (2017) – Fia McKee #1 Bleed a River Deep, by Brian McGilloway (2010) – Ben Devlin #3

May Man in the Water, by David Housewright (2024) – McKenzie #21 The Territory, by Tricia Fields (2011) – Josie Gray #1

June Highway 61, by David Housewright - 2011 – McKenzie #8 Ranchero, by Rick Gavin (2011) – Nick Reid #1

July Curse of the Jade Lady, by David Housewright (2012) – McKenzie #9

September The Last Kind Word, by David Housewright (2013) – McKenzie #10

November The Dark Side of Town, by Sasscer Hill (2018) – Fia McKee #2 Unidentified Woman #15, David Housewright (2015) – McKenzie #12

December Sun, Sand, Murder, by John Keyse-Walker (2016) – Teddy Creque #1 Breaking Cover, by J. D. Rhoades (2008) – Tony Wolf Stealing the Countess, by David Housewright (2016) – McKenzie #13 L’Assassin, by Peter Steiner (2008)

Trivia – My short story, “Asia Divine,” appeared in the same anthology, Bullets and Other Hurting Things (2021), as David Housewright’s tale, “Best Man.” A connection I didn’t realize I had with McKenzie’s creator until a few months ago. “Asia Divine” is available in my collection, Casinos, Motels, Gators (2024).

Review: "Breaking Cover" by J. D. Rhoades

 

Breaking Cover J. D. Rhoades Minotaur Books, 2008     Breaking Cover is a supercharged, violent thriller, and as entertaining as the genre gets. Undercover F.B.I. agent, Tony Wolf, went underground four years ago after his assignment with a ruthless biker gang, known as the Brotherhood, went sideways. On the run, and unsure who he can trust—including some of his fellow F.B.I. agents—Wolf finds a hidey-hole in the small, picturesque town of Pine Lake, North Carolina. But Wolf blows his cover when he rescues two brothers from their kidnapper after seeing one of them in the window of a van. An F.B.I. agent recognizes Wolf from a gas station security camera, which rings more than a few bells in Washington. Then a tenacious local tv reporter captures Wolf on film—and identifies him as a possible conspirator in the boys’ kidnapping. When Wolf’s image hits the national media, it brings the Brotherhood to Pine Lake looking for a very rough kind of justice. Breaking Cover, which was originally advertised as a standalone, is the first of two thrillers featuring Tony Wolf. The second is Broken Shield (2013). I haven’t read that second book—in fact, Breaking Cover is my first experience with Rhoades’s writing. But man, it won’t be my last. The breakneck pacing, the sleek, literate, and hardboiled style give it sizzle. There are gunfights, explosions, hidden tunnels, a hard-as-nails deputy Sheriff, and Wolf’s wife—who figured her husband had been dead for the last four years. But it’s the vileness of the Brotherhood with their irrational hatred of Wolf and a penchant for dispatching its enemies with the grotesque Blood Eagle, and Wolf’s paranoia that keeps him running and gunning that give Breaking Cover pop.

Find Breaking Cover on Amazon—click here for the Kindle edition and here for the paperback.