Petrocelli-Book Review.

petrocelli-jpgRight off the bat I must say that this was not an easy read for me; very few things make me uncomfortable, this book did that to me, which is a testament to talented author John Rachel and his well-researched hard-hitting eye-opening novel.

Small time crocked low life ‘Lucky’ Lenny Petrocelli becomes embroiled in the sexual exploitation and trafficking of minors for an outfit operating out of Chicago; New Yorker Lenny is way over his head. And while the Djin Djin girls ply their trade in the dirty streets of Brooklyn, Bishop Mulcahy and a brutal serial killer with a messiah complex try to clean the streets. The Bishop by railing the community, the serial killer with brutality learned in the Vietnam War. Multiple story lines converge to make Petrocelli a compelling read worthy of a place in the New York Times Best Seller List as stories like this one are worthy of National attention, as the ‘Author’s Note’ reads in the introduction: … “It is currently estimated that human trafficking is annually a 36 billion dollar business worldwide. I have also read there are more than 25 million people in the world kept in bondage as slaves. I fear this is a low figure.” Another thing of note is that despite the subject matter; author John Rachel writes in a witty, world weary manner, with believable characters in a world where greed rules; profit above all else, even the lives of innocent children. Powerful stuff.

5 out of 5

Book Review-Women.

Book cover image trashcity.orgBuckets of ink have been spilled in the praise of this book. Not like it needs more, but here’s my grain of sand.

There’s no way in hell, this novel could’ve been written in this day and age of hyper-sensitive ‘special’ snowflakes—the author would’ve been hanged by the balls and left to dry in the hot desert sun for being perceived a misogynist fool (among other things). However, those who dismiss it, fail to see that in order to create something as ballsy and unapologetic as this piece of work. One needs to be brave, and not give a fuck about ruffling any feathers, which remains me; I should read more Charles Bukowski.

Chinaski grabs a beer. Drayer Baba have mercy!

Henry Chinaski is the average Joe, the average nasty sonofabitch, drunken, ugly, and misogynistic poet who beds any c***t who throws herself at him, and they do, by the busloads (some sad, some bonkers, some a combination of both). But hey what’s an old alcoholic at the twilight of his miserable existence to do? Say No? Fuck you buddy! So what if from time to time he can’t get it up?  Screw another one because, hey, why the hell not. And so the novel becomes a tad repetitive with the wake up, drink, puke—puke or drink, (been there, done that) go to the race track, do a reading, drink some more, fuck some nubile,(wish I could do this. Often) do a reading, drink, repeat—oh wait, he can’t get it up—okay repeat. Yet it’s done in a raw, funny, repulsive, passionate, honest and breezy way. Midway through the book though, you’ll come to the realization that no one writes this way, meaning; he doesn’t give two fucks about impressing the sneering glitterati. Or anyone. You either like it or hate it, it’s there, raw and festering like a staph infection, or a flower growing in the sewage—take your pick.

Some unexpected insights rewards the readers of this book, with quotes aplenty:

“You’re so full of shit!”

I laughed. “That’s why I write.”

So, if you’re of a sensitive predisposition you might want to steer clear of this one, ya special little snowflake ya. 🙂

5 out of 5

Mr. Blue-Book Review.


Mr. Blue: Memoirs of a Renegade.

By Edward Bunker.

I don’t know what happened to this book along the way, but it had a busload of typos, at least my Kindle copy did. I don’t mind the occasional typo here and there. I read a lot, so I come across typos and misspelled words all the time, it’s no biggie but, being a writer myself I know for a fact that this was not what the author intended,  maybe this happened in the formatting process? Still, you would think that an editor would’ve given it a second look or something. Hey! we all make mistakes. Onward…

With an IQ of 152, a broken home, and a penchant for trouble; career criminal Edward Bunker, aged seventeen, became the youngest inmate in San Quentin where he wrote his first novel No Beast So Fierce. Go read it now, I’ll wait…

Gutsy, gritty and hard-hitting memoirs don’t get any better than this. This ain’t a Hollywood, slash, Rock Star memoir written by a ‘ghost writer’ this is the author, taking pen to paper and telling his life story in the most straightforward way possible, he even warns us, about things and events being a little out of whack because He didn’t intend to write about it, and it’s the way he remembers what he went through, and boy-howdy did he go through a violent meat grinder. He offers an unflinching look at the often violent, and brutal realities of prison life while dropping his unique insight into what drives people to commit crimes; be it social hypocrisy, ignorance, drugs or mental problems, a crappy education system or a fallible justice system. It’s a miracle that Mr. Bunker didn’t become a sociopath, in the true sense of the word, like a serial killer, or worse (is there something worse than a serial killer?) I’m no shrink but I think that his salvation was due in great part to luck, a keen intellect, and his love for the written word. Mr. Bunker went on to become a prolific writer and actor. The Mr. Blue of the book title refers to the name of the character he played in the innovative Quentin Tarantino flick Reservoir Dogs.

‘A lotus definitely grows from the mud.’

Edward Bunker, born December 31, 1933; died July 19, 2005, R. I. P Mr. Bunker. R. I. P.

5 out of 5

The Sellout-Book Review.


TheSelloutI would have loved to be a fly on the wall of all the publishers author Paul Beatty approached with his manuscript, saying: “Picture this: in the city of Los Angeles, there’s a disappearing ghetto call Dickens, in said ghetto, a black man starts a farm, but in order to place his neighborhood back on the map, he plans to bring back segregation to the masses by first making the last surviving Little Rascal, (Hominy Jenkins) his personal slave, actions which land him in the Supreme Court.”

Looking at all those jaws hitting the floor would have been worth the price of admission.

But that’s just simplifying what this towering work of satire means in a so-call ‘post racial’ America at a time when shit seems to be hitting the fan. Like the bastard son of Richard Prior, Dick Gregory, and Dave Chappelle this book is witty, smart, and acerbic, in possession of a language that burns with deep insightful anger.

”The Supreme Court is where the country takes out its dick and tits and decides who’s going to get fucked and who’s getting a taste of mother’s milk. It’s constitutional pornography in there…and what…about obscenity? I know it when I see it…Me vs. the United States of America demands a more fundamental examination of what we mean by ‘separate,’ by ‘equal,’ by ‘black.’”

The Sellout by Paul Beatty is biting satire of the highest order and by far, my favorite book of the year.

5 out of 5

Book Review.

BlackHollywood private dick Artemus Black is one hip cat (or so he likes to think). What keeps him grounded is Roxie; his fabulous office assistant who makes up for much of the cool banter peppered throughout the book. The guy has problems. From an out-of-this-era wardrobe, to an ex who took the money he made as a one-time musician, to an overweight tabby who hates his guts. Add to this, filthy rich hippy parents (while he struggles to make end meet), and you’ve got yourself an antsy guy.

An ageing movie star with a hot young wife hires Black in the heels of his movie comeback, paparazzo jump into blood infected waters, pretty soon said paparazzo begin to drop like flies around his new client.

What P. I Black thought was going to be an easy gig turns ugly fast.

Is there any genre out there which Russel Blake doesn’t write? I’ve read a few of the Jet books and those are pretty stellar, picked this one up as an Amazon freebie. I was pleasantly surprise. I didn’t know he wrote detective mysteries.

Fantastic writing (if a tad too descriptive for my taste) cool characters, hip banter, and a dark plot. What’s not to like?

5 out of 5

I’m not a book reviewer, so don’t ask me to review your book-sorry, I don’t do that.

Mini Book Reviews

Put on that beaten up fedora and blood-stained London Fog. Pull that bourbon filled flack, and get your nicotine snacks ready because today I have not one-but two pulpy reviews for you. Because sometimes a bit ‘o pulp is just what the doctor ordered. Here we go.

Machines of easy virtueMachine of Easy Virtue by Jack Price.

A futuristic neo-noir; think ‘I Robot’ meets ‘The Big Sleep’ with a dash of ‘Blade Runner’ It reads like a classic, pulpy detective story, albeit set in the borderline dystopian world of the late 21st century where robots do most of the work and humans are on drugs (including the protagonist private dick Red Bourbon) it seems a though all humans are scraping by while the rich kids are proud owners of designer genes (not the denim type)

It’s safe to say that I’ve never read anything like this. A mashed –up of genres. The druggie gumshoe, meets the knock-out babe who hires him to solve the murder of her father. The book may not be for everyone; however it is an interesting take on the old detective mystery. It has the classic detective tropes plus cool gadgets, sex bots, and an unnerving future.

I stumbled upon this book as a Kindle freebie. It’s a surprisingly good read.

4 out of 4


Blood on the minkBlood on the Mink by Robert Silverberg.

Delving into the Hard Case Crime archives I found this little gem originally published in 1962 by a pulp author who was primarily a Sci-Fi writer.

A Philadelphia set caper full of sex, violence, and triple crosses.

Nick aka Vic Lowney is a chameleonic federal agent whose job is to switch places and impersonate a California operative in order to take down a Philly outfit who specializes in forging money or ‘Queer’ (apparently is what it was called back in the day) Things quickly get out of control as other greedy hoods contact Nick to get their dirty paws on the forgery plates.

Crackling cool dialog, gun battles, and femme fatales, all neatly wrap in a short novel which includes an afterword and two short stories; ‘Dangerous Doll’ and ‘One Night of   Violence’ all written by the author.

A fast paced entertaining read. With twist galore.

5 out of 5

I’m not a book reviewer, so don’t ask me to review your book-sorry, I don’t do that.


Dog eat Dog-Book Review

Dog Eat

A visceral- hard hitting crime fiction novel; from a man who practically grew up in the California penal system (Mr. Bunker was a thief and drug dealer, who spent more than 20 years behind bars before being released for the last time in 1975) In this book, Mr. Bunker has no time for florid/pretty prose. He gets to the meat and potatoes from the get-go (No pussyfooting, just the way me likes)

The main protagonists are: Troy Cameron and his two amigos; Diesel Carson and Gerald ‘Mad Dog’ McCain, whom after being release from the poky; are on a freight train to mayhem. Their plan is to only hit other criminals such as pimps, and drug dealers, because what are they gonna do?

Call the cops?

Their first hit goes somewhat smoothly, the second one, however becomes complicated because their assignment is to kidnap a child from a former associate of a powerful Mexican kingpin. Amid all of this there’s an elephant farting in the room, because one of the protagonist is nothing more than a drug-addled, blood thirsty, cold blooded killer, who has innocent blood on his hands—a passage in the book which I found upsetting—but that’s what great art does; it’s supposed to move you one way or another, but move you nonetheless.

Five out of Five Stars for this dark, violent and unsettling novel.

Edward Bunker, writer and actor, born December 31 1933; died July 19 2005 RIP.


In other news: I just emailed my editor the manuscript for my short novel; Desperados. Fingers cross It will be up for your enjoyment soon as this is the last battery of edits. Stay tune.


I’m not a book reviewer, so don’t ask me to review your book-sorry, I don’t do that.