fictional private detectives

Dirty Air — Book Review

The Razzman is back! And I’m one happy camper.

The older I get the more I find myself reaching for a private detective mystery or a horror story for my reading entertainment.

In the broad crime fiction category, cozy mysteries, thrillers, and serial killers are all the rage. The lone gumshoe, relying on observation and ratiocination, has been more or less put out to pasture.

Which is a crying shame. The murder-solving shamus has been a staple of crime fiction ever since Sherlock Holmes walked on stage and popularized the genre.

Now, Holmes never called himself a private detective. He was a consulting detective. But not too many years passed before the moniker “private” was attached to detective in order to distinguish him from the “public” variety found in the police force.

From the late 1800s through the 1950s the private sleuth was king of the mystery and crime fiction roost. But that began to change in the 1960s as thrills and spills began to be more important then good old-fashioned deductive reasoning.

Today, the thriller is hot and the amateur sleuth of the cozy has replaced the private eye.

However, if you are like me and you prefer your sleuths to be of the private gumshoe variety, then I have good news for you: Joe Congel has published a new Tony Razzolito mystery.

Razzolito, aka the Razzman, is a modern-day gumshoe. He uses information sources, observation, and deductive reasoning to get the job done. There is an air of the hardboiled detective about him, but without the nihilism or pessimism usually associated with the hardboiled detective.

Joe Congel has, in effect, contemporized the hardboiled detective — and Tony Razzolito is the result.

Dirty Air is the third novel in the series. There is also a collection of short stories that fits between books one and two and provides a transition between the events of the first and second books.

Dirty Air is set against a backdrop of NASCAR and illegal street racing. Congel deftly gives you enough of a feel for the racing world without giving you information overload.

A NASCAR driver is murdered (or is he?) And his wife hires Tony and his partner Scott to investigate his death. From that point on, there are twists and turns, thrills and spills, evidence gathering, and deductive reasoning. In other words, a rollicking good mystery.

The central crime busting trio is comprised of Tony and his partner, Scott, and their buddy, Vinnie. The characters are colorful and easy to relate to. The minor characters are also living, breathing people. All of which makes for a very fun series.

Another aspect of Congel’s writing that I appreciate is the realistic pacing. The action continues to ratchet up as the book progresses, as the plot thickens.

Dirty Air, and all of the series, are highly recommended. Check out Joe Congel’s Amazon page — you don’t want to miss this action.

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

Share This!

Indie April Suggestions – Part 8

Indie April will be over in a few days. Nevertheless, I’ve 4 more authors I want to introduce you to before the month is out.

Today, you’ll meet Jack Tyler and Joe Congel. So let’s get to it!

Jack Tyler

I’ve known Jack Tyler for just about as long as I’ve been an independent author-publisher. We met on a now defunct steampunk forum.

Jack taught himself how to write stories. He learned the ins and outs, and honed his craft to an art. He not only knows how to write, he knows how to write well. He’s mastered the art of storytelling.

To date, he’s published the 3 book Beyond the Rails series, which is steampunk high adventure; and the epic fantasy novel The Stone Seekers, which breaks refreshing new ground in that genre.

He has lots more stuff in the wings, and I hope he let’s those books take center stage. Because Jack is far and away one of the better indie writers I’ve read.

He has the ability to create a world and people it with characters who draw you in, and make you a part of their world. His stories have an air of the classic about them. Which puts them head and shoulders above much of the contemporary drivel being put up on Amazon today.

So if high adventure and lots of action is what you’re looking for, head on over to Amazon and pick up Jack’s books. You won’t be sorry.

Joe Congel

Joe Congel has created a fabulous private detective in Tony Razzolito, aka the Razzman.

And at the same time, he’s managed to bring the essence of the hardboiled detective into a contemporary setting. Which is very refreshing.

I love private eye mysteries. And Congel does them right. He follows the formula and pacing of the masters, while eschewing the modern penchant for constant mind-numbing action.

Not that there isn’t any action in the Razzman series — because there’s plenty of it. But it’s action done right, action that heightens the mystery, threatens the sleuth’s ability to gather the clues.

Congel, like his mystery writer forebears, gives us a mystery that focuses on solving the crime. It is the classic literary puzzle. The action is the spice that makes the experience all the more delightful.

Joe Congel does mystery right. If you love the tales of Marlowe, Spade, and Mike Hammer, then head on over to Amazon and pick up the Razzman books. You won’t be sorry.

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

Share This!

Snippet Time

It’s been a while since I’ve offered a snippet of one of my works in progress.

At present, I’m writing two Justinia Wright mysteries, and editing a third.

Today’s snippet is from the Justinia Wright novella I’m working on. (Please note: this is the initial draft prior to any editing.) Enjoy!

***

We were in the office digesting our lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, and cream of kale and butternut squash soup, when the doorbell rang.

On the doorstep, was a tall, heavy-set fellow. He wore a dark brown suit. His shirt was white, and his tie was intricately patterned with irregularly shaped orange-red dots.

I opened the door and asked what he wanted.

“I’d like to see Justinia Wright. My name is Helmar Johanson. I’m on the orchestra’s board of directors, and I understand Ms Wright is investigating the death of Juliette Boudreau.”

“Wait right there. I’ll see if Miss Wright is available.”

Back to the office. I poked my head inside the doorway. “Helmar Johanson from the orchestra’s board is here to see you. Shall I let him in?”

Tina looked at her cigar, turned her gaze in my direction, and with a frown on her face, said, “Yes.”

Back out to the front door. I let in our guest, took a look at the curb, and had to pick my jaw up off the floor. At the curb was a white sports car.

As I took Johanson’s jacket, I asked as calmly as I could, “Is that car out front, yours?”

“The Porsche?”

I nodded, and hung his jacket on a peg.

“Yes, it’s mine. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. Do you like it? Does it handle well?”

“Of course. It’s a Porsche.”

I nodded, led him into the office, made introductions, and indicated he should sit in the oversized oxblood wingback. The chair was certainly not oversized for him.

“What may I do for you, Mr Johanson?” Tina asked.

“I’m on the chamber orchestra board, and I contribute significantly towards the operating expenses.”

Tina shrugged. “Okay, I’m impressed.”

A look of surprise swept across his face and disappeared. “I want to know what you are doing to find Miss Boudreau’s killer. Are you, in fact, doing anything?”

“Is there a reason I should tell you?”

This time incredulity swept across his face, lingering a moment before disappearing. Apparently, Mr Johanson wasn’t used to people talking to him that way.

“I just told you I’m on the board. I have a right to know.”

“Is this right written down somewhere?”

“What do you mean? Of course it’s not written down.”

“Then what makes you think you have the right to know?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Of course you don’t. We have no contractual obligation to each other. Therefore, you have no right to demand anything of me. Natural rights do not infringe on another person’s freedom. In other words, they are not coercive. Free speech takes nothing away from anyone. It is not coercive.”

“What the hell are you going on about?”

“Just this, Mr Johanson: you have no right to demand that I give you information about my client and his case. In other words, you have no right to know anything. You may earn the privilege of my willingness to share. Or you may simply ask me to share. But you have no right to know anything about my investigation.”

“I help fund the orchestra. I’m on the board.”

“So?”

“I’m entitled to know what’s going on.”

“Who says so? I don’t. You have no right, legal or moral, to the information that I have about my client. I may choose to share it with you. And for me to consider doing so, you must ask. Demanding will get you nowhere. However, you must realize that I have a duty to protect my client’s interests — and that may mean I tell you nothing.”

Now, my sister has resorted to a lot of tricks to get people to leave her office, but when she opened the humidor and took out a cigar that was a first.

“Are you going to smoke that thing?”

“That is what one generally does with a cigar. Personally, I don’t like chewing on them.”

“I have a lung condition.”

“No one is forcing you to stay.”

“Well, I’ll be…” He looked at me, I suppose expecting I come to his aid, both of us being men and all. I just shrugged.

He stood, opened his mouth, no words came out, so we closed it. He turned around and left. I followed to make sure he didn’t forget his jacket and that the door got closed, which it did after I watched his white sports car drive off.

Share This!