Books, Reviews, Short Stories, Authors, Publicity, a little poetry, music to complement...and other stuff including politics, about life... "Books, Cats: Life is Sweet..."
Note: I've included this reading video for some of you. I do not read with music...LOL
I buy all of my books now, sometimes they are free, sometimes not. The main reason is that I am no longer able to easily read printed books and review them... so I've had to make many adjustments requiring ebooks now... Like giving to charity all the TBR books I had on shelves that I knew I would never now read...
I've joined BookBub which provides discounted or free books daily... Now that they have the ability to post reviews, it has allowed me to be more active there... But, this is not a recommendation for the site... I've discovered that there is a cost for authors, so I recommend authors do a search of the site and decide. A number of reviews can be found on YouTube, FYI... For me, it's been many years since I actually accepted a book review request from authors (if you have a book you'd like me to review, tell me the name of your book and I'll check it out... If I think I'd like it, I'll buy the book to provide a verified purchase review on Amazon--I consider this payback for all the free books I've received over th 20 years I've been reviewing) other than those I've been working with for years and feel a personal commitment to--because I love their books! On the other hand, I've also enjoyed finding and reading authors that I'd never read before... So this works for me at this time...
Often during these days of such chaos in America, I withdraw into books to escape... I recently picked up a book and later discovered it was the second book in a series... I fell in love with the book and immediately moved on to the third and fourth book...and finished the series except for the first book.
“A brilliant book. I couldn’t put it down and I never guessed who the murderer was!” —Reader review for Only Murder ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
But by then, I had been startled to realize what I considered a major breach of the norm for anybody reading or writing mysteries... I was so shocked that it continued to happen in the four books I read. Then I had to decide, do I go back and read the first book, even though... But, let me start at the beginning and close this part with the Quandry I faced...
Should I rank the book(s) based upon this breach? I decided that, even though many book sites have a way to designate reviews that give away information that shouldn't occur--why would reviewers be punished if the author is the one that did it, I wondered... But I had loved the books, even with this breach... I decided that I needed to give the ranking I felt about the books, as opposed to what the writer had done... Let me know in comments whether I should have changed my public ranking based upon this issue... in your opinion...meant for a discussion as opposed to anything else... Here's what happened... I did decide not to write my usual reviews for these books, other than today's post, well, just because...
I bought this book...
This is the second book in a series. It is listed as the favorite (probably because it is still free?)
The main character is a professional restorer of art pieces. She goes into the homes, normally of the rich and famous--those who can afford such pieces for their homes. What makes them mysteries is that, during the work on the painting, something is discovered that is, somtimes within the picture itself, or is found in some other way. In essence, the main character becomes the amateur detective in all cases, and persists until discovering and solving the mystery. I loved the concept of merging mysteries within the art world and having a restorer of older paintings needing some type of work be the one that discovers, even cold cases, and solves them...
I bought the remaining books at regular cost as they were numbered in the series... But then I noticed a name being used as part of a main character flashback...
It happened again...
It was, I later confirmed, the murderer in the very first book... Do you get the point? If not, scroll back up to read a short blurb review which was used over and over in each of these books...
The reviewer proudly didn't guess who the killer was and that helped them give 5 stars... In fact, I do just the opposite, I applaud when I was unable to guess in advance of the actual naming that the author had succeeded in allowing me the pleasure of assuring my readers that this mystery was so good, that, "even I, LOL" did not guess the villain of the mystery! After all, isn't that part of the mystery and the enjoyment for mystery readers? Surely, everybody knows that??? But, here
the writer has used the actual murderer's name in referring to the flashbacks of the main character!
Ok, I don't know about you, but I was shocked.
Now realize, that I'm somewhat of an expert in picking up errors of content in books... So, at this point I had only made an assumption that, indeed, the author had revealed the name of the villain of the first book, within later books...
Am I the ONLY reader that has purchased a book, that later is discovered to be a series and buy all the others to know the whole story? But, did I want to go back and pick up The Unknown Woman to verify that, indeed, I was right in my assumption about the author's, in my mind unforgivable error?
Of course I had too...
I began to read the first book. Frankly I noticed a difference in the writing immediately. Ok, this was first in series and maybe the writer's first in series was written more to set up the series. Let me tell you what I mean... In the other four books, the main character is totally in control of telling her story. She's in her element--her expertise of being able to correct any problem, which included, by the way, the repair/restoration of a painting where somebody had thrown paint on the painting! In any event, the fludity of the last four books, the meticulous activities of the main character pulled this reader to turn pages, moving through the book(s) one right after the other, as if it was one book, rather than four...
Going back to the first in series, I found the first book where the author was in control. The writing was stilted as, seemingly, she was getting the mechanics of her new series down sufficiently so that she could move on to the next book... If I had read it first, I would not have caught this since I would not have been reading the first book after all of the others...
This author has written other series, so this was not her first. Perhaps all of her readers get a notice that another of her series is starting and they buy the first book first... I can tell you from experience that the average reader is moving from writer to writer and rarely knows or remembers whether they have even read the book before. Unless they are specifically told that the book being placed on sale is actually second in a series and we should make sure that we read the series in order to avoid being told the name of the villain that is identified in book 1...
Readers! Pop Quiz... Do you buy a book based upon author or genre? My answer is genre...
If it is a series, do you buy a book on sale, even if you don't know it is a series in advance? In this case, I did not know it was a series so I bought it. Hey, it was free, I normally can't resist a free book from anywhere...LOL If I really hate it, I can feel free to delete an ebook or send a paperback to charity...Unless a book has been damaged, I never throw a book away...
I also hate book banning... just so you know... We all are free to be in a democracy (except now)!
Bottomline, I did confirm that the villain who was named as a killer in flashbacks by the main character in later books was actually correct as being the killer of the first in series book. Now the author could have created the flashback without actually using the name of the killer and the emotional impact of her first emotionally charged event could have still been felt by readers. The names are normally irrelevant in a book unless they are primary characters--at least once the book has been read.
So, why did this author choose to use the actual name in a flashback scene? To me, the reader, I don't really care. It might have been standard for this author. It may have been an oversight--a mistake... Or maybe she really didn't consider that each book should be considered free-standing in all cases so that the reader can choose whether to read the entire series or not, at least in my opinion... Because, you see, my opinion does count... I am the only one who will decide whether I add this author to my mental list of writers I'll be willing to read again... Or NOT... What I do know is that, I loved four out of five books in this series and, if this breach of norms had not occurred, I would probably have been willing to read her further. I am not now that individual. I once told an author that each typo in a book jars my attention... Writing back he cringed. Then I went on to say that each superflous vulgar term hurts me... He crossed me off his list...
Except I bought the book myself, read it. I thought it was satire and enjoyed it. It wasn't meant to be a satire; the author hated my thoughts. LOL
Words matter. What every writer must realize early, unless they are writing for their own enjoyment or a diary, is that everybody who reads their writing will be a fan or a critic Based UPON What They Read... This was his first book. I advised him to start reading, since his storyline seemed to be based on television programs or movies, rather than continuing to write first... That's about all I could do...
So, my Blog readers, next question of your quiz. If you realized that the author of a series had given away the name of a villain in another of the series books, would you blackball the writer for the future like I did? No, it won't change my opinion, but it may influence me whether I contact the writer or not in the future. And, yes, I did love the concept and the main character... Seeing a series villain's name in a flashback--No, can't accept that!
But this was my personal opinion, I did rank based upon the overall quality of the books... What would you have done?
"I acknowledge my feeling and gratitude for life by praising the world and whoever
made all these things."
~ Mary Oliver
Happy National Poetry Month!
This is always one of my favorite months
because not only do I get to review my latest favorite poetry books, but it's a time
when there's a lot of national focus on poetry. In my hometown, this month, we elect
our new Poet Laureate, who typically holds a two-year term. It's also a time when
there are numerous poetic events to attend around town.
I'm also excited about the number of poems I've had published in the past few
months, especially my new favorite form of haikus and haibuns. Many people have
told me that they think I've found my form. While I'm still mastering the form, I
must say I'm really enjoying the challenge.
If you have not written a poem since grade school, then this month might be a good
time to try. If rhyming intimidates you, don’t worry, because modern day poetry has
very little rhyme. I'm a fan of narrative poetry because, like memoir writing, it tells a
story.
Poetry, the voice of the soul, is a free-flowing form of expression. The best poetry
happens when you write about feelings, observations, and images as they come to
you.
To become a good poet, it is important that you read a lot of poetry for inspiration
and ideas about form. You can also listen to CDs of poetry being read aloud.
Here are a few prompts to consider:
1) Title your poem “I remember.” Recall an event in your life and share all the
details in your poem. The reader should feel as if they are remembering along with
you.
2) Write a poem about a secret you never told anyone.
I've seen and heard Naomi at a number of poetry events, and I just cannot get enough of her down-to-earth poetry. This book, in particular, resonated with me, with her themes of family, love, kindness, empathy, grief, growing up, and resilience.
This book celebrates family and community. The collection gets more personal than any of her other collections. Here she taps into her childhood, her parents and grandparents, and all the others who have helped shape her life as a poet and human. It's one of those books to be kept at the bedside to be reread over and over again.
I had so many favorite poems starred in this collection, but "Freedom" really spoke to me:
I first heard Seuss read her poetry during an online poetry reading and was blown away by her voice and honesty. This new collection takes its title, Modern Poetry, from the first poetry textbook she encountered as a child and the first poetry course she took in college.
Her poems tell it like it is—feisty and musical, and many of them taking chances in writing about ordinary life occurrences, such as love and death. Her dry sense of humor coupled with self-scrutiny, offers the reader respite from the noise and chaos of the universe.
In her poem called, "Poetry," she says,
There's no sense
in telling you my particular
troubles. You have yours too.
Is there value in comparing notes?
Unlike Williams writing poems on prescription pads
between patients. I have
no prescriptions for you.
I'm more interested
in the particular
nature and tenor of the energy
of our trouble.
Yes, You Can Write Poetry: Try It This National Poetry Month By Diana Raab April 06, 2025 Hobbies
April is National Poetry Month and if you have not thought about poetry since high school, it might be a good time to rediscover its wonders. Poetry is the voice of the soul; it is a free-flowing form of expression. The best poetry comes to you when you write about feelings, observations, and images as they arrive.
Poetry is a powerful genre because it allows self-expression and thus can increase your sense of well-being. In addition, reading and writing poetry not only leads to healing and transformation, but it can make you a better writer.
The Many Benefits of Writing Poetry
In general, writing poetry fosters the development of keen observational skills because in order to write good poetry, you need to be in touch with all of your senses. For example, instead of saying that something is beautiful, it’s more compelling to show why something is beautiful. In practice, this may look like this: when writing about flowers, you might say that the color is radiant, and the fragrance is like honeysuckle. This technique is called, “showing rather than telling.”
Writing poetry can also be healing, especially when you write about events or experiences that you’re still coming to terms with or still processing.
Freestyle Poetry
If rhyming intimidates you, don’t worry, because modern day poetry has very little rhyme. I’m a fan of narrative poetry because it’s most akin to memoir writing. It is poetry that tells a story. In many ways, writing poetry can move you closer to your center of creativity. It also stimulates the right brain. Poetry can also help you claim your voice.
If you want to write poetry, my best advice is to listen to the voice in your head. Writing poetry can help transform your life and aid you in dealing with difficult issues.
Because poetry is a succinct genre where every word counts, it teaches you the power of words. Writing poetry teaches you how to be concise and get to the point of what you want to say. Poetry also encourages the creation of images and metaphors. It’s a good idea to provide many details in the poem and to be as specific as possible. When writing about someone else, consider having a photo of them nearby so you can easily visualize them.
Remember...to become a good poet, it is important to read a lot of poetry for inspiration. It’s also a way to get some ideas about form. Sometimes it’s fun to listen to poets read their poems. In fact, after you write your poem, one way to edit it is to read it out loud. This is because poetry was meant to be a spoken form of expression.
Try These Prompts
Here are some good prompts to get started when you want to begin writing:Write an ode to someone you love. Provide details about why you love them. In poetic form, write a letter of apology to someone you disappointed, or you think you disappointed. Write a poem about your first boyfriend/girlfriend and what you remember about them and your relationship. You could write a poem about someone who has passed away by framing it as a present-day event that triggers a favorite memory of them. Write a poem about a secret you never told anyone. Describe your day in a snapshot. Write a poem about all the things you love.
Final Thoughts: Do you read poetry? Who’s your favorite author? How about writing poetry – is it a favorite creative activity? What prompts do you use? If you haven’t written any poems yet, what’s stopping you?
Wishing you all happy writing.Have a great month of April!
Manny is my "adopted" brother... I have not been able to talk to him (on line) for almost a year... We met on Facebook, a place that once was my almost daily location for at least a small part of the day. I'd been on Facebook for around 20 years... I had developed a close set of friends who were mainly writers of books. I have read and reviewed all of Manny's books, so do a search to find them here... On Facebook, Manny had problems with having his ID stolen... that seems to happen a lot where individuals take the name of a popular FB member and create another site under that name... Soon problems of access started and it was the individual who was the real person who had to clean up the mess and start over... Then I was told that it appeared that something seemed to be wrong with my account--that they were blocking it to check... It's been almost a year that I have been blocked from my account on Facebook. Yesterday I installed a new Anti-virus and discovered that Facebook had been tracking everywhere I went... Why? Those of you who read my blog surely assumed the same thing I have. They support the republican mess that is now destroying America and I am fighting against it... So, if you see my blog disappear someday...you'll know why... Or, they could "disappear" me because their new law is that if they can prove that even a citizen is thinking something they don't like, they can be arrested! Yep, I could be disappeared! Provided for your information in this time of corruption in our government...
~~~
IF ANYBODY SEES THIS AND KNOWS HOW TO GET IN TOUCH WITH MANNY MORENO, PLEASE PASS ON MY NEED TO TALK TO HIM... AND SHARE THIS FIRST POEM FROM HIS LATEST BOOK. THANK YOU!
It would be hard to be a minority, I decided. For a lot of reasons, but also because fewer people looked like you. A simple but powerful factor. I became acutely aware of my whiteness as I noted eighteen of the twenty partiers plunging into the club weren’t white. We’re all racists, so said the Wall Street Journal, but I’d like to think I was less so than most and yet I still felt the tension of looking different.
I’m deeply profound.
Actually, my first impression of Mackenzie August was a different word--snide, or mocking, as opposed to profound... But, his style of speech grows on you... He clearly presents, for me, both Mike Hammer and Robert B. Parker's Spenser. Mike Hammer is the typical private investigator who talks tough while wondering what in the world he's doing... On the other hand, Robert B. Parker has been my favorite fiction writer since the first book I read... In fact, when I've been asked for advice about writing, I immediately recommend that the hopeful author study the writing of Parker... His words are concisely chosen as well as presented in short sentences that allows readers to move more quickly into his stories. There is no confusion in what is being said... Blending the two successfully is an achievement, but for those who have experienced both of these characters, especially on TV, I applaud Lee for achieving what many could consider impossible, especially adding his being a teacher of English and using it precisely, often to correct somebody else during a conversation, LOL ... I was impressed by the time I'd finished the first book.
“I met the chief,” I said. “Or what’s left of him. We shook hands and I nearly killed him.” Buzzcut did a snort. “I heard you was funny,” he said. “Were.” “What?” “Were funny, or are,” I said. “Not was. It’s complicated because are and were are both plural, but you does not take singular verbs.” “The hell are you talking about?” he said. “Don’t blame me, Sanders. It’s the rules.”
On the other hand, Lee offered no personal traits for Mackenzie, other than "big, wide" etc... So I chose Spenser's sidekick, Hawk... as how I visualized August. Yes, he's black and Mackenzie is white, but in this book, that really doesn't matter, since we throw in Mackenzie's friend, Manny who adds in Latino words quite often... Truly, I loved the multicultural vibe, even at the same time, people are killing each other... Kinda a wide chasm, considering the many different characters presented in this story...
After first period, between classes as the hall was throttled with hormones, I stood by Reginald Willis. He wore a sweater, as he did every day no matter the heat. “Mr. August, you need a good shave, sir. How then shall the children learn? You, looking like a bum,” he said.
“Willis, you ever heard about the Addisonian Social Club?” He turned to regard me from the corner of his eye. His mouth cracked a smile but for once was silent. For several seconds. “What’cho want with the Addisonian?” “A friend mentioned it.” “A friend.” He cackled, a burst of sound that startled the passersby. “A friend. You’re a lying White man.” “What? I have friends.” “The Addisonian.” He shook his head. “Enlighten me.” “It’s a club. Dancing. You know?” “You ever go?” I asked. “Of course. Old Reggie got moves, youngster.” “Can I go?” Another long pause. His expression was full of mirth and suspicion. “Why?” “Because.” “Who you going with?” he asked. “Does it matter?” He nodded. “It does.” “I’ll go with you.” “The hell you will! Old Reginald showing up with this funny-looking White man. My women would eat you alive, Mr. August, and enjoy every minute. They’re like jackals.”
“It’s a club exclusively for people of color?” “People of color,” he said. His tone was mocking. “Call me Black, Mr. August, ‘cause I call you White. People who fret over such distinctions got nothing better to do. Hurry up, children! The bell tolls for thee! And no sir, the Addisonian is not exclusive to brothers and sisters.” “But.” “But. You’d be the only one, most times.” “Maybe—” “The Addisonian is a place where I go to cut loose. All are welcome, Mr. August, but White people don’t have fun. Don’t know how. Too uptight. You understand? You can go, sure, but you’d be like Trump at a black church. You don’t look a man who can get down.” “It’s a good time?” “The Addisonian? Best place in Roanoke. Good for my soul.”
“You know a guy, Big Will?” His face clouded and laughter drained away. He grabbed me by the elbow. “Listen here, Mr. August, you come talk to me after school. You understand? And don’t say that name again.” The bell rang. He gave me an extra hard squeeze and released. Classes ended. The school emptied of students and noise, like a balloon deflating. Sudden silence. I glanced in Ms. Bennett’s room. Her room was tossed and shaken, desks and papers everywhere. She sat in a student’s desk, legs splayed, a far-off look. A spitball was lodged in her hair. “I don’t even know what happened,” she said. She was drowning in the deep end. I’d offered ranks of suggestions but she still wasn’t brave enough to pull the proverbial trigger. She’d start swimming soon or sink to the bottom, and nothing I could do to change it. I moseyed into Reginald Willis’s room. He sat at his desk and overwhelmed the chair. He glowered. “So it’s true.”
“The rumors about how much I bench?” I said. “You think this is a joke, boy.” “That’s just how I interpret the world, Reginald. I joke. What’s true?” I asked. “You’re a cop.” “‘Fraid not.” “Bull,” he said. “Cross my heart.” “Don’t matter. The rumors say you are, so that’s the truth. The students find out, you’re busted.” “I’m not a police officer. I used to be.” “Why are you asking about Big Will?” Reginald asked. “You know him?” “Everyone knows him! So, what? You part of the war on drugs? You gentrifying your students? Come to save us with your whiteness?” I grabbed a chair from the wall and set it down across his desk. Sat in it. “Mr. Willis, I’ve upset you. I’m sorry. Can you explain? I’ve taken away all your joy and I don’t know why.” He leaned back in his chair and his thick fingers drummed on the desk. He made a low grunting noise. “You used to be a cop?” “In Los Angeles. I quit two years ago. You dislike cops?” “I do. Well, that ain’t right. I think they often cause more trouble than needs be. More trouble than they solve. Only cops allowed in the hood should be from the hood. You get it?” “I do.” “Why you asking about Big Will?” Reginald asked. “I’m not sure I trust you. Like you said, if the students get the wrong idea, if you start talking, I’m busted.” “Mr. August, I’m a teacher. Coulda been a preacher. Right? Got me a degree in paralegal studies from Richmond, could be working for a judge. But I teach. You understand that? I grew up off Melrose, and went to college ‘cause of the grace of God and my eleventh grade math teacher, Mr. Fowler. My daughter, she’s a nurse. My other daughter, she’s married an accountant and I got two grandkids. Happily married these twenty-seven years. I’m mad at’cha, Mr. August, because you’re in trouble. Or about to be. So maybe you tell me why you asking about Big Will.” “Students in my class are buying and selling cocaine. I found the notes and I found the delivery system. I don’t want to ruin their lives so I haven’t reported them. Instead I’ve done research and discovered Big Will.” “You discovered Big Will,” he repeated. “Right.” “And you haven’t told about the coke.” “Ms. Deere has no idea,” I said. “Nor do the other administrators.” “Well then. Not as dumb as you look. Maybe hope for you.” “Why’s that?” “You think jail cures problems? You think kids go to Coyner Springs and come out good people? Naw. Drugs ain’t the problem. Drugs are a coping mechanism. Drugs are a currency, a market, a pain reliever. And also drugs are the devil. But the police don’t offer any solutions. Jail acts like a school for criminals, you understand.” “You and I are on the same page,” I said. “No we ain’t, neither. What good you think you’ll do with Big Will? You think he’s the only way kids get drugs? You take him out and your problems are solved?” “Tell me about him.” “He came through these halls. Twenty years ago, maybe. I was here. I remember Big Will. Enterprising young man. Good student. He’ll kill you, Mr. August. He will. Won’t even stop eating lunch to do it.” “You’re scared of him.” “I respect him. Same way I respect violence. See, Mr. August, the drugs are everywhere. You think you’ll stop them? Try stopping cancer instead. Got a better chance. Big Will’s got a big operation and you won’t stop it. You do? And someone else will pick it up. Can’t stop time. And you can’t stop this.” “Your solution is to be a role model?” “Same solution as Mr. Fowlers, my math teacher. Teach the truth. Be a role model. Kids who come from money will go on to have money. Kids who don’t, won’t. What’s gonna change that cycle? Nothing. ‘Cept maybe me. Not the police. Not the drugs. But you pick the hill you want to die on, Mr. August, and some hills can’t be conquered.” “Where’d you hear I was a cop?” He shrugged and waved the question away. “People talk. Teachers gossip. You stay away from Big Will.” “I’m not sure I can do that.” “Well. Then. S’been nice knowing you, Mr. August.”
~~~
Based on Mackenzie's dual background experience--as a cop as well as an English teacher, he was the perfect man for what the local police offers needed to go undercover. Two criminal issues are running rampant in town--drugs are even being sold in schools. But, lately, young teens are being kidnapped and killed--possibly as training for young gang recruits...
August has been asked to teach in a local school. No, he is not to be an undercover cop. Merely an observer of anything and everything that is going on. Who might be selling... Who might be buying... How prevalent are these actions? Are students in danger? But in order to actually check out these issues, August has been given a flexible schedule, so that he doesn't teach the entire day like most other instructors. This, of course, quickly led to gossip...
On the other hand, Mackenzie cares about the students and becomes well liked, even becoming a favorite teacher for a few... Fortunately, Mackenzie lives in the neighborhood--with his Dad, his son, and a newcomer to the house... A Deputy Marshal who is also Mackenzie's good friend! His students living nearby soon start having a closer connection and ultimately become a major part of the investigation!
“I think your gang problem is getting worse,” I said. “None of these girls are White. They make the news?” “Barely. Two of them are undocumented illegals, so….” She shrugged, an angry motion. There was a note of steel in her voice I hadn’t registered yesterday. “If they were White, it’d be a national story. Our planet infuriates me.” “These are brutal, even for a gang rite of passage. You think the new General is escalating things?” She nodded. “I do. “You have a madman on your hands.” “Our hands. You live here too.” I grunted. The best detectives always grunt. “I figured you out,” she said. “Yikes.” “I asked you to be a narc. I used the word snitch. I insulted you, in so doing. It’s beneath you and I apologize.” “I do not get insulted. If I did, though, I’d forgive you,” I said. “We need you to detect. Not to snitch.” I slid the photos back into the envelope. My career as a private cop was taking shape and I didn’t want to be tied down. Those photographs, though. “There are worse things,” she said, “than working undercover, you know. I’m getting desperate, Mackenzie. Let me take another shot at you.” “Sure.” “I want you for ten months. After that, I’ll quit molesting you. You never have to meet with me or Sergeant Sanders, unless you want. I’m after additional eyes and ears, not more meetings. We know the gangs have infrastructure within the school, but we don’t know how they communicate. Despite all security measures, the schools are infested with drugs. Raids turn up stashes but few culprits. The gangs recruit soldiers within the halls, arrange hits, rumble between classes, you name it. We’re making no progress, and those gang initiation murders scare the hell out of me. If I could get some intel on the structure and hierarchy…” “The General could be identified.”
So, while teaching, investigating, enjoying his family time, Mackenzie happens to go into a bar and met Ronnie... Readers will get to know her to some extent, but she is very secretive and only shares why at the very last of this book, setting us up to want to move on to the second book, which I did! LOL Oh, BTW, Mackenzie has just had his first physical encounter during his "investigation..." where he was going to only see and report...
I went to Blue 5 for a beer on the way home. A trendy restaurant and bar with a modern blues theme, polished hardwood, muted lights, no live music tonight. I sat on a tall wooden chair at the busy bar with a view of the Washington Nationals game. We were up three against the Mets with two innings left. Everything hurt. My adrenaline high was wearing off. The bartender came for my order. She was, perhaps, the most fetching person I’d ever seen in real life. Aphrodite herself. Under the hanging bulb, her hair was the color of sunlight, pinned up. Easy smile. White button-down and black slacks worn like evening wear. Cool it, August. Never let ’em see you sweat. “Oh my. What happened to you?” “Walrus,” I said. She laughed. Yessir, old Mackenzie still got it. “You need a drink.” “I need a drink.” “You strike me as a beer guy.” “Got Stella Artois?” “Only douchebags drink them,” she said. “Better make it two, then.” She shook her head and smiled. Such a sight I was nearly struck blind. Forcefully I turned full attention back to the game. I didn’t come here to hit on bartenders. Focus on the game. Focus on baseball players. Gross, nasty baseball players. She brought a draft, set it on a napkin, leaned her hip against the bar, and watched the game as she dried glasses. “Bryce Harper.” “Yep,” I agreed. “I would marry that man just for his hair,” she said. “Me too.” “Except you’re straight.” “Still. That was a long home run.” She said, “You’re an imposing man. Why are you so big?” “The good Lord and His infinite wisdom. Now shush. I’m watching the game.” “I don’t shush. I can tell you’re new because I’d remember that swollen sweaty face.” “It is neither swollen nor sweaty in perpetuity,” I said. “Normally I’m above average.” “Too bad. It’s kind of a good look, all the carnage. Did you move here recently?” “I spent much of my life in Roanoke, southwest. Came back last year.” She said, “Where’s your accent from?” “Louisiana. My formative years.” She was called away by a patron down the bar. I did not watch her walk away. Well. I did. But I’m not proud of it. The view was worth the self-loathing. Light on her feet, constant motion, good muscles. Guy two seats down, already a little over-served, leaned my way. “I think Ronnie likes you.” “Is Ronnie what you call yourself? Because that’s odd.” “What? No. Idiot. Her, the girl. She usually doesn’t talk.” “Maybe because you refer to yourself in the third person as Ronnie,” I said. “Big turnoff.” “What? You’re being a axxhole. I’m just saying.” “An axxhole.” “What…” “An axxhole, not a axxhole,” I said helpfully. “You weren’t so big, I think I’d like to kick you in the teeth.” “I’m a little punchy tonight. My apologies. Next round’s on me, Ronnie.” “Her name’s Ronnie, not mine,” he said. “Whatever your name is, you smell unfortunate.” He swore and left. The bartender from Elysium returned a few minutes later and said, “You ran off Frank. A couple more whiskeys and he would’ve started singing.” “He said you have a boy’s name. I pointed out that you can be any gender you want and we won’t judge.” “You’re a mess.” “But on the bright side, I’m sweaty.” “Did you look at my axx earlier?” she asked. “A gentleman never tells.” “Because you should. A girl in my building believes she has better hamstrings than me, so I’ve been busting it. I need to prove her wrong. These things are important.” “Maybe I should be the judge of your contest,” I offered. “She was a gymnast but I was a dancer. Perhaps it’s a tie. Where’d you go to high school?” “Cave Spring,” I said. She speared olives three at a time. “We’re rivals, I went to Franklin County. When’d you graduate?” “We’re not in the same decade.” “Never know. I’m old, but I take vitamins by the fistful.” I told her. She told me. I was two years her elder. “You played football,” she said. “How’d you know.” Her eyes were a shade bluer than hazel. I think she actually glowed. I had a hard time maintaining her gaze, like my soul would catch fire. She shrugged and it looked good. “An indistinct suspicion.” Yeowza. Mackenzie, going off the rails. Gotta get out of here. I said, “You don’t look like a Franklin County girl. You’re a little too…posh.” “Mmm, spoken like a boy from Cave Spring. What’s your name?” “Mackenzie.” “Mackenzie what?” “Sorry. Mackenzie, ma’am.” She grinned. “You’re a mess, Mackenzie. You don’t flirt like the other boys.” “I’m holding back. If I flexed you might drop the glass.” She left to fill a raft of drink orders. Ronnie didn’t look like a bartender. More like an A-list celebrity here on a hidden camera show. She returned as I finished the beer. “I just figured out who you are,” she said. “Knight? Shining armor?” “I wish. You’re the investigator who works with Brad. Usually you’re less clammy.” “How do you know Brad Thompson?” I asked. “I’ve been co-counsel with his wife. Twice. I helped her with an immigration case. You and I were in the same courtroom three months ago.” “You practice law.” “I practice law like Giselle wears heels.” I raised my hands, palms up — Huh? Who? “I make law look good,” she clarified. “I have my own firm.” “A lawyer moonlighting as a bartender?” “Similar professions. Taking money in exchange for false hope. Brad told me about you. He says you’re excellent and you shot a teacher.” “Those two possibly do not belong within the same sentence.” I slid money across the table. “Thank you for the drink, Ronnie.” “You’re leaving.” “I know trouble when I see it.” “I’m the best kind of trouble, Mackenzie.” “Also I need a shower,” I said. “Badly.”
A final twist, which struck me, as I thought through what is happening in America right now, is that Lee has created multifaceted characters that will leave you questioning, wondering... What is really going on in any one person's life? Two main characters talk about their relationship to God, while at the same time, being part of the events happening in this book--murder, selling drugs to children and within surrounding states... Since Trump was mentioned in one of the conversations about his relationship to our Black citizens, readers will begin to stray from the story, as if the writer has purposely thrown little bits of the personal lives of his characters that allows us to wonder--is this guy really a good guy or is he a bad guy who uses his religious life to just make millions of dollars... I must admit that I'll probably keep reading these books just to watch how our main character handles himself in his interactions which crosses over into what many of us think is just wrong... For instance, I have long been of a conclusion that drugs are in America because some Americans want them here...either for their use, or for manipulation of others, or just for the financial gain... The book implies that the cartels will ensure that they will always be here in America... But, certainly the personal desires of those who choose to use drugs, incuding teens, should be able to be managed if parents were really concerned about getting rid of drugs availability... And obviously the high dollar income is an easy criminal interprise...
I think this book is well worth checking out. It will take a little while to get into if you, too, find that the "joking" of the main character seems "off..." But, take the time, this writer has given us a book that we can not only enjoy reading, but which will leave you with questions that just might be answers to some of your concerns about the rich and powerful tearing our government apart for seeming no really good reasons! I learn much from fiction...I'm already anxious to learn what happens with Ronnie's secrets and whether she will be freed from the life we learn about... Highly recommended
.jpg)
.jpg)
Ok, I don't know about you, but I was shocked.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
