April was a blur for several reasons I’ll not bore you with. (I certainly wasn’t bored, but my ego is not such that I would presume the events would be anything but to you.) I did, however read one worth passing along.*
The Mexican Tree Duck, James Crumley. Man, I love Crumley. It’s probably best not to try too hard to decipher his plots. Just go along for the ride. His Raymond Chandler meets Hunter Thompson style may not be for everyone, but I enjoy it. His characters sing, the dialog is as smart as its speakers would be but no smarter, and as interesting as you’d want them to be. This one sends C.W. Sughrue from Montana to Mexico is pursuit of a biker’s missing mother, who may be a rich woman who might be a kidnap victim, or just doesn’t want to be found. Who’s in charge and who’s the victim changes through the story and the ending had enough twists to do James Ellroy proud. Crumley’s famous for having written what many consider to be the greatest opening line ever, in The Last Good Kiss. Examples all through the rest of his books show he didn’t just pull it out of his ass.
* -- I did read an ARC that shows great promise, but I don’t like to do anything there until the time is right. No vaguebooker, I.