Just My Personal Opinion, Of Course...

Five minutes later we gunned it out of town under a cobalt blue sky. Cody's tires spitting dirt on the sun-warmed road, the radio blasting "Beer Drinkers and He3ll Raisers" by ZZ Top. "God, I love this song," Cody said, cranking the volume, his palms pounding on the steering wheel, his green eyes charged with a secret energy, as if he were anticipating a salvation known only to him. For as long as I'd known Cody, he'd avoided a static lifestyle. Downtime and boredom were his worst enemies. I imagined that in his quiet, solitary moments, perhaps when he was alone in his apartment at night, straight booze ight not be adequate to soothe the wounds of his past. His pain could only be extinguished by action, by confronting his demons, by violence. This was his defense mechanism, how he dealt with the grief of a father who abandoned him and an uncaring mother. Crazy as it sounds, living on the edge provided the balm for his unhealed scars. I'm sure p...

"Why do I make you watch each other suffer? Is it sexual? Maybe, but it's always about control. It's about pain. I want Paul to see everything I've done here; he has to see it. Do I rape you? Yes, and Paul will know Caleb watched me. Paul will know I was the last man on earth to fuck his wife before I butchered her. I want him to know that both of you were terrified and screaming in agony before I killed you. I want your caskets closed. I want him to know I was the last man on earth to see your mother's pretty face before I destroyed it. I want him to know I was the last man on earth to see you intact and whole. I own that now. I own all of you... ~~~ He shut the front door behind him and took a deep breath after closing his eyes. It wasn't going to be easy taking himself into the dark place he needed to go, the dark place that made him a very effective hunter. On any other crime scene, he would've had hours to put himself behind the eyes of a killer. ...

Then a tormented female voice from the front cried out, "Sylvester is dead!" The crowd froze for a moment. And then chaos ensued. "I'm Deputy Sheriff Marcus Grier of the Silverado Sheriff's Department City of South Lake Tahoe." The ballroom was deathly still. "I have soe terrible news to report. "There's been a tragic accident, and the wedding is canceled. I'm afraid that's all I can say now. Please exit the ballroom in an orderly fashion for your own safety. Grier stepped down from the stage. A stunned silence engulfed the room, the moment was so abrupt and so utterly inconceivable that I thought it might be some kind of morbid practical joke. A hushed murmur rose from the crowd and built into a crescendo as people near the front surrounded the cops and beseiged them with questions. More people surged forward, a man fell and cried out in pain, and one officer pulled his billy club as he was pushed back against the pulpit. Ano...

Attention: Just got word that this book has been revised and updated and expanded... I already had that book as well so since I'm a fan of Blackie... I'll be reading it and will update this review... ASAP... GB  Kiss Me Evil is the new title so if you want to go ahead and get it...make sure it is the latest! Noir fiction is a literary genre closely related to hardboiled genre with a distinction that the protagonist is not a detective, but instead either a victim, a suspect, or a perpetrator. Other common characteristics include the self-destructive qualities of the protagonist. ... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noir_fiction Trash had always said I was a mark, I guess somewhere down the line it was inevitable he would feel that it was up to him to prove it. Well, prove it he had. In spades. ~ Yet, Trina’s recent behavior gave me the mind-set, the fortitude, the fucking balls, to resist this most transparent, yet powerful, ploy. Fuck being a mark, I was through. Of c...

" Pushing herself backwards, away from the face pressed close to hers, Louise replied only with a prim: I bed your pardon?" "She noticed he was carrying some kind of bagel in his hand. With eyes peering between hat and scarf, the half-hidden face repeated the question, impatiently: "I said: when do you think it's going to start?" "Louise uncomfortable being so close to the strange, furtive face in the gathering early evening gloom, voiced another question in an uneasy voice: "What are you talking about? "His answer was a gruff, peremptory: "Always questions; can't get a straight answer nowadays. Listen, if you really don't know anything, then you'd better be careful..." Guess that's why U.S. cops stick to doughnuts! Muffin Man* Stephan Collina I think I've read enough fiction by now that I sometimes resent authors that I know could do better but seemingly goes, instead, for what ...

Eleanor had blue eyes that simply danced, and her well-wrinkled skin was covered with large moles, as if she collected them. Her thin, gray hair was curled today – her hair appointment had been only yesterday. When she laughed, which she did often, her whole belly shook. "Why would I lock the door? I knew you’d be coming straight here after getting the paper. How is Roy this morning?" She giggled and tried unsuccessfully to stop. "You’re the one that has eyes for him, not me, Eleanor." "Really? Do you think he would be interested?" Her eyes danced suggestively. Ignoring her chatter, I held up the newspaper and handed it to Eleanor to read. She carried it to one of her white wicker chairs and sat reading the article before handing it back to me.  "It said the same thing on the news this morning. The girl’s father is on his way here too," Eleanor said, putting her hand against her mouth as if someone else could hear her. "Word is that he...