Sunday, Nov 15 2009

Print book from Green Candy Press

E-Book from MLR Press

THAI DIED
By
William Maltese
Publisher: Green Candy Press (January 24, 2003)
IBN-10: 1931160139
ISBN-13: 978-1931160131
Also available from MLR Press as an E-Book
ISBN#978-1-60820-051-1 (ebook)

Reviewer: Ruth Sims

Is he or isn’t he? Gay, that is. Or bi. Does anyone know for certain? Does Stud Draqual, himself, know? Does he even care?

All we know for certain is that Stud is his real name, he is a world-traveling silk merchant, a self-described “famous designer of silken underwear for wealthy women,” a gorgeous man who attracts danger and excitement the way a dog attracts fleas. Within hours of his arrival in Thailand—a place he knows well—he has been shot at and, by virtue of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, been nearly blown to smithereens. Not even recovered from that, he finds himself in a sanctuary with a bugged phone, and before you can blink, he’s face down in the back of a taxi with a smelly blanket covering him, on the way to … he doesn’t know where. And that’s just in the first sixty pages!

Nor are danger and intrigue all that follows the aptly named Stud; men and women, all equally beautiful and dangerous, throw themselves in his path and Stud seldom sees a reason to step aside or avert his eyes. When he does manage to step aside or avert his eyes another portion of his anatomy tends to pay attention.

If you like books that are sexy, violent, exotic, fascinating, and funny, and where the brisk dialogue, ironic asides, and pithy observations never flag, you’ll love Thai Died.

Maltese is a master of his craft, whether he’s describing Thailand’s gorgeous buildings and beautiful people, its squalor and filth, or the shocking murder of an exotic dancer in a private BDSM club, during a performance, in full view of the audience.

As with many of Maltese’s books, there is a lot of explicit sex. Chances are your granny, your third grade teacher, and your preacher would be horrified (or not. How well do you know them, anyway?) Although Maltese has recently written Young Adult fiction, this ain’t it. I’m not particularly a fan of explicit sex in fiction, but when it’s done with style and panache, and the scenes are an integral part of the story rather than something thrown in to get the reader’s rocks off, I’m okay with it.

The number of books bearing the name of William Maltese just keeps growing… and growing … and growing, as does his popularity.

Recommended – but for over 18 only.

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STILL DANCING by Jameson Currier Tuesday, Nov 10 2009

STILL DANCING
By
Jameson Currier
Publisher: Lethe Press (December 1, 2008)
ISBN-10: 1590210484
ISBN-13: 978-1590210482

One of life’s pleasures, as any book lover can testify, is falling in love with a new author. Or, rather, the work of an author new to you. I recently discovered Jameson Currier and am head over heels in love with his writing. I have so far read only one book of his, Still Dancing, but have two others, Where the Rainbow Ends and Haunted Heart, waiting their turn. (I have so many good books waiting their turn I wish I were twins.)

There are twenty stories here, written over a time span of about 30 years. Not just any 30 years, but the three decades beginning with the mysterious and agonizing deaths of gay men in the mid-80’s to the present. Yes, these are AIDS stories. And yes, AIDS stories aren’t particularly popular now with either readers or writers. I suppose that’s because the average person thinks of AIDS as something in the past or something that is better ignored. Or perhaps in tough times maybe people just want escapism. I don’t know. But what I do know is that no one with a heart could read this collection and come away unmoved.

Jameson Currier is a master at the difficult art form of short fiction. Within the space of a few hundred or a few thousand words he can take out your heart and break it. I do not suggest that these are maudlin, pity-poor-us stories. Not at all. If they tell of death and dying, they tell equally of family, friends, lovers past and present, dead and living. The stories are gritty and honest, as real as IV tubes and funerals. Some also have a subtle meaning that doesn’t hit the reader until later. Currier’s stories don’t whitewash the physical ugliness of AIDS, or the pain, the fear, or the grief. Nor does he elevate the friends and caregivers to the status of saints who are never angry or impatient or resentful. The stories are elegant in their simplicity, and sublimely humane.

As I read the stories my favorites kept changing. “Still Dancing” was my favorite. No, “Ghosts” was my favorite. “Everybody is Always Somebody Else” was my favorite. Impossible choices. But I know I have to pick just a couple to draw attention to, so I chose “What They Carried” and “Winter Coats.”

“What They Carried” is deceptive. In less skilled hands it could have been a dreary laundry list of things taken to comfort a dying man: flowers, pajamas, books, etc. But because even the most mundane object carried to the fragile, beloved, and sometimes cantankerous Adam, are symbols not only of caring but also of helplessness, the story is unforgettable. The people in the story are not only carrying tokens of love to someone they are about to lose, but some of them wonder if they carry within their own bodies the deadly virus that will soon make of them objects of caring rather than givers. And some of them know.

“Winter Coats” is nothing short of charming, and that’s because Dennis, friend of the narrator, is charming. Dennis is handsome, talented, a dancer and actor, graceful, humorous, kind, and the embodiment of Je ne sais quoi. Shortly after burying his lover, for whom he was the devoted caregiver, Dennis, too, is losing his life to the virus. The narrator is Dennis’ friend of many years, and he is as much bemused by Dennis as anything else. At the end of the story, as if flipping the bird to frailty and his own mortality, Dennis can still spin a graceful, perfect double pirouette on a cold New York City street.

Jameson Currier is, simply, a remarkable writer who deserves to be read.

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MURDER ON CAMAC by Joseph R.G. DeMarco Tuesday, Sep 22 2009

Murder on Camac
By
Joseph R. G. DeMarco

Publisher: Lethe Press (August 22, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1590212134
ISBN-13: 978-1590212134

Murder on Camac is a P.I. novel so believable even I, who have not read many such books, was totally pulled into the story.

Marco Fontana, our hero, is a gorgeous Italian-American Private Investigator. He’s wary and a little cynical, as you would expect of a P.I. He’s also highly intelligent and sensitive-not the weeping kind of sensitivity but the kind that makes him aware of what makes people tick, how they think, and he’s a pretty wicked judge of character. Nor is he your average fictional P.I.; on the side Marco also owns a troupe of male strippers (with class and a whole lot more!). He is, in fact, good-looking enough to dance in a G-string himself – if he loses a particular bet with a friend.

The book has a cast of colorful characters, from a many-times-widowed Russian secretary to a stunningly handsome Catholic Monsignor, from a teenage hit man to a heartbroken stripper, and many more in between. DeMarco presents even the supporting cast perfectly; if he had gone a shade further with the characterizations some of them would have become stereotypes and the story would have been ruined for me, but with precision artistry he shows just enough but not too much.

Helmut Brandt, a youngish, successful author, is shot and killed on Camac Street in Philadelphia one night. The police dismiss it as a mugging gone bad, but Brandt’s much older lover believes it was murder, and he hires Marco to get at the truth. Brandt, you see, had rattled quite a few cages with his first book that levied broad hints that Albino Luciani – known to the world for four short weeks in 1978 as Pope John Paul I – had been murdered. Brandt had promised that his second book, nearing completion at the time of his death, would prove that men high up in the church were responsible, possibly including members of a shadowy organization called P2. But where – and what – was the proof? Brandt was dead, and not even his lover knew where he had hidden his manuscript and research notes. And why, since decades had passed and most of the principals were dead, would anyone think it necessary to murder Brandt? Or could he have been murdered for more mundane reasons, such as jealousy? Or could the one behind Brandt’s murder be the twitchy rival author who wanted to stop his competition dead in his tracks? Or could it actually be what the police said: simply a mugging?

Marco gets to the bottom of it all and unearths the guilty party, as of course he would. Before he reaches that point, though, he is threatened, nearly run down by a car, cracked on the head and hospitalized with a concussion, and, worst of all, he’s completely baffled. But he is Marco Fontana and you know he’ll get his man. Red herrings and MacGuffins abound, and I was often tempted to peek at the ending. But I didn’t. And I was glad I behaved myself.

Murder on Camac is a fast, entertaining read. I expect we will be seeing more of Marco Fontana in the future, with or without the G-string. I give it five Sherlocks and a Watson.

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Saturday, Aug 22 2009

FALSE COLORS
By
Alex Beecroft
Publisher: Running Press (April 13, 2009)
ISBN-10: 0762436581
ISBN-13: 978-0762436583
Paperback & Electronic

From the back cover: “1662. For his first command, John Cavendish is given both a ship and a crew in need of repair. … He hopes the well liked Lieutenant “Alfie” Donwell will stand by his side as he leads his new crew into battle: stopping the slave trade off the coast of Algiers.”

A damned, diabolical book, is this, by a damned, diabolical writer who captures you like a pirate and will not let go. Her author photos show a gentle, red-haired Englishwoman, but she is actually the reincarnation of Britain’s Vice Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson. If she isn’t, she’s channeling him. First came the Age of Sail gay romance, Captain’s Surrender. And now, in a novel that shows how she has grown in her craft, comes False Colors.

False Colors is a novel that’s half a poignant story of ships-passing-in-the-night male love, and half rip-roaring, swashbuckling, cannon-exploding, pirate fighting, iceberg-ramming Age of Sail adventure. Beecroft puts her characters through physical torture—literally—with stomach-turning details, and through psychological torture just as excruciating. This is one female author who can write convincingly of men at sea and men in lust and love.

The erotic scenes are well done, and worked seamlessly into the story. But the characters of John Cavendish and Alfie Donwell are finely drawn and the story so compelling that the sex scenes could be taken out and I wouldn’t miss them. The heart and the sinews of this book are not in scenes of physical sex but in the tormented souls of two young naval officers drawn inexorably to each other in a time when such love could put them both on a gallows. John and Alfie are separated through much of the book, but are never far from one another’s thoughts, though often the thoughts are bitter. And when they are together, they are at cross purposes caused by misunderstandings. The last chapter is one of the most truly erotic scenes I’ve ever seen, because it has everything—physical sensation, humor, tenderness, impatience—the works.

Beecroft’s research, as always, has been exhaustive; every sentence throbs with authenticity. She immerses you in research and detail so neatly that you don’t even think about it. You don’t read about bloody decks, splintered masts, and pirates burning men alive; you experience them. You can feel the manacles tear John’s wrists down to the bone. You can smell the roasting flesh and hear the screams. You feel the unbearable cold of the Arctic ice and feel the fear of every man aboard, knowing a certain death waits as their ship fills with icy water as the deadly beauty of an iceberg towers over them.

Beecroft’s skills have advanced amazingly since Captain’s Surrender. I can only wonder what she has in store for us next.

Want a great story with romance and pulse-racing sea adventure? Get this one!

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ISLAND SONG by Alan Chin Thursday, Jul 16 2009

ISLAND SONG by Alan Chin

Publisher: Zumaya Publications, LLC (September 8, 2008)
ISBN-10: 1934841021
ISBN-13: 978-1934841020

Alan Chin’s Island Song is many things: exotic, spiritual, lyrical, and lovely. The author’s visual touch when he word-paints a scene in Hawaii is so lush as to almost overwhelm the senses. I have a soft spot for books that are beautifully written but which do more than entertain; they actually teach the reader something. Island Song does this. And does it in such a way that it’s unobtrusive, as when Song, the beautiful young Hawaiian, explains to Garrett the interconnectedness of all life.

The first chapter is one of the most evocative I have read for a long time. An old man chants a plea to the island gods, and as he does the young man with him sees something eerie and frightening, something that may not be there, and he feels brushed by an all-encompassing Power. The old man is called Grandfather by all, and is the spiritual leader of the island. The young man is Songoree, destined for and being trained to walk the same path Grandfather has taken, to take his place eventually. In the same way other faiths have waited for promised leaders, they are waiting the being called the Speaker. He is to be what St. Paul was to Christians. Who he is, where he may come from, whether he is young or old, no one knows. Grandfather just knows that he will come.

In the meantime, Garrett Davidson, a Californian who has never recovered emotionally from the AIDS-related death of Marc, his life-partner, is seeking a place where he can be alone with his grief and the depression that has led to chronic, severe pain in his head. His goal is to write about Marc and their life together. The story of Island Song is one of the physical, mental, and emotional recovery of this man, and his awakening to new love and spirituality. A large part of his recovery is the unexpected and unwanted love he comes to feel for the exuberantly innocent and alive Songoree, beloved by the islanders, and called Song. Never has a character had a more apt name, because his whole being is a song of existence.

However, the author is not one to let the reader rest peacefully on the flow of his prose. Several times, when least expected, something startling bursts to the surface: homophobia, which runs like an undercurrent beneath the story; a startling backstory trip to a San Francisco gay bathhouse; a stunning suicide; a violent bar fight. Chin’s facility with description is faultless, whether he is writing about the exquisite beauty to be found below the surface of the sea or relating the grit of life.

I also very much like the way Chin handled the scenes of making love. They were very well done; they were graphic without being gross; they came at the proper place in the story; and they were never thrown in just to be titillating. And best of all they were, truly, scenes of physical love in the fullest sense of the word.

Characterization is mixed. Garrett, Song, and Grandfather are as beautifully realized as figures in a Renaissance painting. You come to know them intimately and they are unforgettable. I wish the character of Audrey had been fleshed out a little bit more, and three of the characters—Owen, his lover Micah the rebellious preacher’s son, and Micah’s father the homophobic preacher—are close to being stereotypes. Owen and Micah, though likable, seem to always to be scampering holding hands. (They don’t, actually, but that’s the impression I was left with.)

The only real quibbles are more “quibs” than “quibbles,” things that personally put me off a tad. First was the style, which was present verb tense. I have never liked books written in the present tense, but because Island Song is so well done I was able to ignore the tense…until the first flashback. Because the flashbacks were also in present tense, I then became distractingly aware of the tense. The other issue more than likely bothered me because of the “I wouldn’t have written it that way” syndrome common to novelists who write reviews. The final two chapters, while pleasant, felt tacked on like an afterthought, and read more like the first two chapters of a sequel. (I hope there is one!) I felt that the last words in the book should have been the end of Chapter 30: “All things begin within the density of silence.” That is so profound and so in keeping with the general feeling of the story, it (to me) just seems more apt.

At the risk of repeating myself, Island Song is a wonderful debut novel. I have never left the Midwest, but with his artistry Alan Chin took my heart and mind to Hawaii. Island Song is very highly recommended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
I invite you to go to the “Conversations With Authors” page, and sit down with Alan Chin and me for a conversation about the book and his life. This is the first of a series of conversations I will be doing with authors.

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SAPPHO SINGS by Peggy Ullman Bell Sunday, Jun 14 2009

SAPPHO SINGS
Peggy Ullman Bell
Publisher: CreateSpace
ISBN-10: 1438214316
ISBN-13: 978-1438214313

Sappho Sings. And so does Peggy Ullman Bell in her lyrical, painstakingly researched, emotionally involving novel about the Poetess of Lesbos.

Will Durant in his “Life of Greece” is quoted as saying that Sappho “called herself Psappha, in her soft Aeolian accent” and Psappha is the name by which she is known through this wondrous novel. Because the title uses the more familiar name “Sappho”, that is the name I shall use.

Many people have heard the name of Sappho but not many know who she was, what she did, or what she was famous for. There is, however, a sadly amusing idea in certain quarters that Sappho was “the founder of Lesbians,” to quote someone of my acquaintance. (I didn’t know Lesbians were “founded” but I guess that’s a different issue.) At any rate, she is associated in modern thought with Lesbians (in the sexual sense, that is, not as in “citizens of Lesbos”) and nothing else. Many people don’t even know that the Island of Lesbos, in the Aegean Sea, actually exists and is not some mythic legend like Atlantis. I did actually know it existed, but that’s the extent of what I knew until I read Sappho Sings.

Though Sappho was a prolific writer of poetry only a few original fragments of her work remain in existence, and it is with these fragments that Bell weaves the mesmerizing tale of an accomplished, passionate woman as real and flawed as any woman alive today.

Bell’s vision of Sappho begins with her as a fatherless, feisty teenage girl, small in stature but a lion in spirit, who defies a tyrant and pays for it by being banished from her beloved island home and the adored little brother whose birth took her mother’s life. On the miserable journey from Lesbos to Syracuse, Sappho loses her lifelong friend and betrothed, Alkaios, in a storm. She is rescued and “captured”—at least that’s her view of it—by Kerkolos, a sea-going, wealthy merchant, who takes her to his home in Syracuse.

He treats her with utmost respect that eventually calms her fears of becoming a slave or concubine, and his gentle ways, so at odds with his appearance, win her over to friendship. They wed, and Sappho gives birth to his daughter. She feels great fondness for him, if not passion, and is grief-stricken and frightened when she finds herself suddenly widowed and at the mercy of her truly horrible mother-in-law.

Eventually Sappho initiated in the rites of the Sisterhood of Iphis and discovers that, though she is capable of physical passion with men, her heart is taken by women. The cast is large; some of the names are vaguely familiar from Ancient History in High School many years ago. I didn’t find them very interesting back then. Now they certainly are!

The characters are unforgettable, especially Praxinoa, the nurse and lifelong friend; Lycos, the elegant and somewhat effeminate man whose loving friendship also lasts throughout the book, and the tall, Nubian queen, Gongyla, the love of Sappho’s life, a woman who sold herself into slavery to save her people from a similar fate. I will never forget these people who have been my companions for many days.

Bell’s knowledge of society and of place seems encyclopedic and yet not overwhelming. The language is just archaic enough in structure that it keeps you grounded in the ancient world but not enough so that it seems overdone. Names are pronounced in footnotes, which is very helpful. Sappho Sings is also the most sensuous book I have ever read: the lush descriptions of place, the elegantly expressed passion of depicted intimacy are poetic without crossing the line into the ludicrous, as sometimes happens when less gifted authors attempt it.

It is simply a wonderful book. It is not a quick and easy read, and it’s certainly not a genre romance although love of many kinds permeates the pages. Part of that is the author’s love of her subject.

This book should be winning awards. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

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THE SEA HAWK by Brenda Adcock Saturday, Jun 6 2009

THE SEA HAWK
Brenda Adcock
Published by Yellow Rose Books
ISBN-10: 1935053108
ISBN-13: 978-1935053101

The tall, lean captain of the privateer strides the bloody deck of Le Faucon de Mer – Falcon of the Sea, cutlass in hand, short black hair whipped by the breeze, a striking figure in white shirt, tight breeches and boots, a ruthless figure that brooks no disobedience. The captain’s cutlass is as quick to enforce discipline among the crew as it is to cut down a British officer.

But that’s not the beginning of the story. The beginning lies not in the past but 150 years in the future, and it does not begin with the ruthless captain of a privateer but with a marine archaeologist named Julia Blanchard. With her personal life in shambles, Dr. Blanchard has turned her every thought to the newly discovered sunken vessel off the Georgia coast, which she has lovingly named The Georgia Peach. While she is foolishly diving alone, with a storm threatening, her boat is stolen by 21st century pirates. She manages to get on board unseen to take an extra air tank but is discovered. She escapes the threat of a brutal rape by diving back into the sea. But in escaping one fate, she finds herself facing another. Barely clinging to life, buffeted by the sea and fried by the sun, she drifts on the uncaring sea until she loses consciousness.

And thereby hangs the tale.

Julia Blanchard, burned, dehydrated, unable to speak, wakes up in 1814, on board a British frigate, rescued from the sea and certain death. Not long after her rescue, as she recovers her health due to her youth and strength, the frigate is captured by Le Faucon de Mer. It is then that Julia sees the captain of the privateer—a woman, by name Simone Moreau, called “Faucon”. (I picture a young Sigourney Weaver starring in the film).

Yes, Gentle Reader, this is a time traveling, f/f romance, if one must label books with a genre. But even if you have never read a book of this kind, I hope that you’ll give this one a try. It is an accurately depicted, meticulously researched “age of sail” historical novels with strong female characters who take no guff from anyone of either gender. It’s a swashbuckling adventure complete with decks slippery with blood, the deafening boom of cannon fire; with old Andrew Jackson and elegant Jean Lafitte; with a love triangle, violent jealousy, and enough sexual tension to sink Le Faucon de Mer. It ends with a satisfactory twist that you know will become a happily-ever-after, as a good romance should.

If you think you would feel uneasy reading f/f sex scenes, you can skip them; there are not many and they are brief, nor are they overly graphic. Please don’t use them as a reason not to read The Sea Hawk. I really believe you’d enjoy it. I haven’t read very many f/f novels, but the few I have read have been very good. I enthusiastically add The Sea Hawk to that number and recommend it highly.

The author has a really great video trailer at her website www.brenda-adcock.com

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BLUE HEAVEN by Joe Keenan (old-but fun review) Saturday, Apr 25 2009

BLUE HEAVEN
By Joe Keenan
Publisher: Penguin (Non-Classics)
ISBN-10: 0140107649
ISBN-13: 978-0140107647

I read this some years ago and recently re-read it while killing time in a hospital waiting room. It gave me some laughs at a time when I really needed them, and I just had to share it with you. It has no socially redeeming value, the characters have no depth and are stereotypes. But who cares? It’s hilarious.

Who knew scamming the Mafia could be this funny? OK, OK, it’s also dangerous. But funny! At least reading about it is hilarious when you’re reading Blue Heaven by Joe Keenan. Not a new book, it was copyrighted in 1988, but—dare I say it again? Funny.

The story is narrated by one of the principals, a struggling playwright named Philip Cavanaugh. Philip is gay, as are many of the people he knows, including his best (usually) friend and first-boyfriend-while-in-their-teens and occasional mattress buddy, Gilbert Selwyn. Gilbert is a pretty, scheming, self-centered, ambitious lover of luxury and lots and lots of money he doesn’t have to work for. Gilbert’s mother’s most recent husband is Tony Cellini, whose vast wealth, unbeknownst to the naïve woman, is from Mob activity.

Gilbert attends a Cellini family wedding and is starry-eyed at the mountains of loot the newlyweds get from the family/Family. His thinking goes something like this: wedding = gifts and money, unbelievable piles of both. He needs money. He ALWAYS needs money but is allergic to work. Ergo: the perfect answer would be to have a wedding which would bring in tons of gifts from the family/Family. Only one problem: a wedding required a female bride.

Enter the villain(ess) of the piece: Moira Finch, who is as much a pretty, scheming, self-centered, ambitious, lover of luxury and all the things money can buy as is Gilbert. However, while Gilbert has a few, slight and barely noticeable scruples, Moira has none. As in, NONE. Moira’s mother is married to a British duke. (And thereby hangs the tale). Moira and Gilbert come up with the perfect scheme. They will marry, rake in the swag, stay married a few months, then divorce and divvy up the take. What could go wrong? A better question would be: what could go right?

The two conspirators become three when they rope Philip into helping, for a price (he really does need a computer). The three become four when things start to go wrong in a major way and Philip goes running to his good friend and collaborator, Claire, who is smarter and more sensible than Philip and Gilbert combined and who MIGHT be able to make the devious Moira stop weaseling about and complicating things. Moira, as it turns out, is far more devious and things are far more complicated than they knew. Then the four become five when a hysterical gay chemist, Winslow, is convinced (with a lot or effort) into putting on drag and pretending to be Moira’s mother the Duchess. But he can do it only if he’s coked to the gills, and while under the influence of coke and Ecstasy s/he flirts with the widowed, elderly Don and ends up engaged to marry him as soon as she divorces the Duke…

Before it’s over, a mechanized Christmas Wise Man is assassinated by a gun-blazing bodyguard; three warring factions of the Family have separately threatened the five conspirators with various, creative, and gruesome methods of death and each demands something different—and contradictory—from them or else; the horny, gay, teenage son of a mobster tries to lure Philip into flagrante delicto under the same roof as his homophobic dad; there is a shootout at the wedding, the Duchess vanishes leaving behind nothing but her bloody gown which does not contain her body, and … well, there are more twists, turns, double-crosses, triple-crosses, blackmail, and one-liners than you can imagine.

Only one other book made me laugh as much, and that was Ruby Sweetwater and the Ringo Kid. Les Miserables it is not. But if you ever appreciated send-ups, silliness, Monty Python, MAD Magazine, Saturday Night Live, and Laugh-In you’ll love it. I recommend it if you need a laugh.

Joe Keenan, who was one of those responsible for that intelligent, very funny, and still lamented sitcom, Frazier, also wrote two sequels with Gilbert, Philip, and Claire: Putting on the Ritz, and My Lucky Star.

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THE ANGEL SINGERS (A Dick Hardesty Mystery) by Dorien Grey Sunday, Apr 19 2009

The Angel Singers
By Dorien Grey
Publisher: Zumaya Publications, LLC
ISBN-10: 1934841064
ISBN-13: 978-1934841068

To paraphrase Sally Field’s famous Oscar speech, “I like him. I really like him!” Him who? P.I. Dick Hardesty, that’s who, the Private Investigator protagonist of Angel Singers.

Many, many, many years ago when I was young, I picked up my first private eye novel. I recall only that I hated it, it was by Mickey Spillane and it started out with a gal who was naked under her raincoat/ trench coat. I didn’t like the snarky hero, didn’t like the book, didn’t like the writing and did not plan to read another of the genre. Then recently I read one of Richard Stevenson’s Donald Strachey novels (Ice Blues)and one of Josh Lanyon’s Adrien English novels (The Hell You Say), and discovered P.I. stories I actually liked. A lot. And now—one of Dorien Grey’s Dick Hardesty novels.

Angel Singers is the latest in the series. There is a complete list of titles in the series at the end of the review.

The title intrigued me because I love anything to do with music. When I learned that Dick Hardesty’s life partner, Jonathan Quinlan, loves to sing and has joined a men’s chorus, I was hooked before I ever got to the mystery. The director of the chorus is quoted as saying to his singers, “When you talk, you’re human. When you sing, you’re angels.”

Because the chorus is made up of human beings, there are often bruised egos, jealousies, rivalries, and the other side of the coin, firm friendships. And then into this band of angel singers comes Lucifer, in the form of Grant Jefferson who is young, beautiful, talented—and a manipulative, selfish egoist without a shred of conscience. To say he wreaks havoc among the chorus is like saying the bull in the china shop caused a little damage. His evil even extends to running down one of the chorus members, nearly killing him. Grant Jefferson ends up dead, blown to bloody shards by a car bomb. But whodunit?

When a murder victim has gone out of his way to infuriate most of the people he came in contact with, as Grant Jefferson did, there is a small army of suspects with means, motive, and opportunity. Is it the obvious suspect: the rich sugar-daddy Grant Jefferson was playing like a violin while tricking on the side? Is it the bitter son of a man whose career Grant Jefferson ruined, causing his death from a heart attack? Or could it be an earlier sugar-daddy who didn’t like being dumped for someone richer? Could it even be the jealous partner of a chorus member whose long-term relationship was ruined by the late unlamented Lucifer wannabe? Or is it an as-yet-unknown man whose life was malevolently marked by the deceased? It’s up to Hardesty to find out. And of course he does because, after all, he is the hero of the series. That he will find the killer is the only unsurprising thing about this tale. The killer was one I did not even suspect!

One of the things I like most about this book is that Dick Hardesty and Jonathan Quinlan have a believable and almost enviable relationship. They’re good parents (Uncle Dick, and Uncle Jonathan) to five-year old Joshua. In fact, my only quibble is that it wasn’t explained, though I’m sure it was in an earlier story, who Joshua’s parents were, what happened to them, and how Hardesty-Quinlan came to be his dads. Joshua adds a pixie quality to a murder mystery; he’s a typical five-year-old who is by turns endearing and a pint-sized tyrant. In other words, Hardesty-Quinlan are complete human beings and their being gay is only part of their identity. An adult reader knows from that the two men are a couple and that they have sex, but it’s not explicit and isn’t shown in any detail whatsoever. Even someone who would be uneasy with even a small amount of gay sex in a book could read this and not wince.

Highly recommended for everyone who doesn’t get apoplectic at the thought of committed gay couples with children!

Once I get down farther in my stack of TBR books, I fully intend to read some more of this series, as well as more Richard Stevenson and Josh Lanyon.

The series titles in order of appearance, are: The Butcher’s Son, The Ninth Man, The Bar Watcher, The Hired Man, The Good Cop, The Bottle Ghosts, The Dirt Peddler, The Role Players, The Popsicle Tree, The Paper Mirror, The Dream Ender, and The Angel Singers.
They are all available in or on order from any bookstore or on-line bookseller.

http://www.doriengrey.blogspot.com
www.zumayapublications.com

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Whistling in the Dark by Tamara Allen Monday, Apr 6 2009

Whistling in the Dark
Tamara Allen
Publisher: Lethe Press
ISBN-10 1590210492
ISBN-13 978-1590210499
see publisher’s website for buy links lethepressbooks.com
Available in print & electronic

I’m a sucker for any book about music and musicians, and a sucker for a well-written book about gay men, and a sucker for anything in the era 1890-1930. And Whistling in the Dark gave me all three. Tamara Allen made a convincing New York on the cusp of Prohibition, and has created characters the reader comes to know and care about.

Jack Bailey is cynical, unapologetically homosexual, smart-assed, a little bit flamboyant at times, quick-tempered, prone to drinking and gambling and borrowing money from questionable sources. And beneath the bluster and the Attitude, he has been wounded psychologically by double tragedies: service in France in WWI and the influenza death of his beloved parents before he returns home. If the term Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had been invented then, it would certainly apply to Jack. Jack isn’t a musician, except in a ham-handed sort of way, but he believes with his whole heart in the future of technology, in his case in the magic of wire and tubes called radio. He is determined to keep his parents’ business going, a mom-and-pop store of oddities and imports, (including a live crocodile named Woodrow) but has no head for business. What he has a head for is getting into trouble with the law, loan sharks, and potential bootleggers.

Sutton Albright is also a young veteran damaged by life. He had it all: good looks, wealth, adoring and indulgent parents and he grew up in the Midwest, far from the corruption of the Big City. A gifted concert pianist with a brilliant future, a war injury took away. He lights in New York, rootless, futureless, unable to go home. On first returning home he enrolled in a university only to become involved with a male teacher and finding himself expelled. He has no way of explaining that to his parents, no way of explaining that he is a “pervert.” (The word “gay” has not, at this time, gained common usage in that context.

Sutton is mistakenly caught up in a police sweep of a public park and jailed over night. There he first meets Jack. Friendship eventually becomes more, and that, plus Jack’s devotion to developing radio and Suttons’ hesitant resumption of playing the piano, combine to make this a compelling story. Rather than go further with a plot synopsis (I’m awful at them), let me just tell that you will enjoy this book if you enjoy stories of “opposites attracted” to each other. Here are two damaged young men who find each other, sometimes irritated and a little quarrelsome, sometimes tender and loving. Eventually comes the time when Jack has to face an unhappy choice that could lead to a new life for Sutton.

The supporting characters are very well done, individualistic without being overpowering, and most of them are Jack’s friends, eventually becoming Sutton’s friends as well. I especially liked Ox, who was big, and shy, and often mistaken for being slow. I felt there might be just the tiniest bit of stereotyping in some of Jack’s gay club friends; they reminded me a little of the “bitchy queens” in the film “The Boys In the Band.” But the characters in Whistling in the Dark aren’t as annoying.

It’s an outstanding debut novel and I’m sure Allen has many more just waiting to be written. Highly recommended.

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