Black Eagles #01 - Hanoi Hellground

I’ll be honest with you. I’ll only read one or two thick doorstop books a year, because I hate taking the risk that I’ll be trapped in the middle of a long-ass book that isn’t going anywhere. And at 330 pages and a tiny typeface, “HANOI HELLGROUND” is more than twice the length of the standard action/adventure series novel. But I’ve had a lot of luck with Vietnam War pulp lately, and I love the grinning skull covers on these 'Black Eagles' novels, so I tore into this series’ debut. Fortunately, the book keeps moving from start to finish.

It’s basically “THE DIRTY DOZEN” in Vietnam. An elite squad is put together for special combat missions, and the first assignment is to seize a huge pagoda complex way up in North Vietnam, kill all the military bigshots inside, find a hidden code descrambler there, and get out of the country with it after blowing up the place. 

The pagoda is the headquarters of an evil, ambitious general who curries favor with his superiors by maintaining it as a party palace where they can do all the nasty things they can’t get away with in Hanoi. Most of those things happen behind closed doors and involve underage boys, but the general himself is fond of the ladies. (As the Black Eagles close in on the night of the raid, he’ll be busily boinking a young commie cutie; his heat-seeking moisture missile will deliver a payload six separate times, a feat which even Longarm might envy.) 

The book is a little schizophrenic. On the one hand, it wants to be a serious military/espionage story, and it’s loaded with lots of details about weapons, strategy, Vietnamese culture and so forth. For example, a sequence where the squad learns high-altitude parachuting isn’t covered in a couple of sentences, but in page after page of exacting detail. 

But then on the other hand, the book wants to be pulpy, and after a few mundane chapters one sordid shocker after another pops up. Some of them are lurid, like the female commando who dates a hated communist enemy just to castrate him and stuff his package into his mouth as he bleeds to death. Some are tragic, like the innocent Vietnamese tribesmen who are captured by the communists and tortured with electrodes attached to their scrotum. And occasionally they’re just psychotically evil, as when the communists punish nuns by forcing excrement down their throats, all for the crime of sheltering the orphans of non-communists. There’s a lot of excess here, and not all of it is fun to read. But like they say, war is hell.

Writing under the pen name of John Lansing, author Mark K. Roberts is clearly trying a different approach than the one employed in his lightweight, sexy 'White Squaw' westerns. For the most part, “HANOI HELLGROUND” works. I liked all the combat action, and the inventive ways in which the Black Eagles deal with various perils on this mission. There was also ample backstory material on each member of the team, which helped flesh them out. (I still wasn’t really able to keep all thirteen of these guys separate and distinct in my mind, but that’s probably my fault rather than the book’s. I was still able to differentiate them as The Black Guy, The Hispanic Guy, The Jewish Guy, The Vietnamese Defector Guy, etc.) 

There was one glaring flaw in the story. The pagoda is situated up in the mountains of northern North Vietnam. There’s no good, level place there for an Army helicopter to land, so the Black Eagles have to parachute down, about a day’s hike away from the target. Okay, fine. Once the mission is completed, they have 48 hours to reach a secret pickup location in a flatter area, where a chopper will land and carry them out of the country. But that pickup location is hundreds of kilometers away, down in the southern part of the country. Huh? There’s no other out-of-the-way place in all of North Vietnam where a chopper can land? That’s insane. But it gives the author a good excuse to extend the book by eighty pages or so, as the Black Eagles desperately hijack vehicles and race south, trying to elude the enraged North Vietnamese who are right on their heels, and hopefully get to the pickup location before it’s too late. Some of the book’s best material is in these eighty pages, including a brutal showdown with the depraved general on a racing locomotive, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.

Yes, the novel is longer than it needs to be. But it’s lively enough, and there’s some great action in it, so I didn’t mind much. Roberts did a good job with it. And although he didn’t write any of the later books in the series, I’m looking forward to exploring the later chapters of the 'Black Eagles' saga… none of which are nearly as lengthy as this one was.

Hell Rider #01 - Hell Rider

Author Dan Schmidt contributed a lot to the genre in the 80s. While subbing as Don Pendleton he penned over 20 'Executioner' titles. He penned double-digit installments for both Super Bolans and 'Stony Man'. The author seemed to specialize in the team based books. His 'Eagle Force' line of Bantam books ran nine issues and as Frank Garrett he wrote another nine volumes of his 'Killsquad' series. 'Hell Rider' looked like the birth of another long-running series, but the idea was shelved (or wasn't shelved) after only two installments. Both are under the fitting name of Dan Killerman. 

“Hell Rider” was released in 1985 by Pinnacle and follows the trend of vigilantes on bikes. The series is about bounty hunter Jesse Heller, a Vietnam vet who's trailing members of a biker gang called Satan's Avengers. While in transport from 'Nam back home, he learned that his entire family was killed on a camping trip in California by these ruffians and he wants revenge. He rides a bike in the mostly abandoned stretches of the southwest and carries an Interarms Virginia Dragoon .44. I like the gun, but Schmidt talks about it way too much. Essentially, the bike and this Dragoon are the trademarks for “Hell Rider”.

Schmidt is a meat and potatoes writer, heavy on action, low on plot and absolutely knew his 80s audience. Heller rides, shoots straight and speaks the truth and we all love that. Early in the book he gets to shooting, taking a hostage named Mitchell and learning the whereabouts of a secret meeting between the Satan's Avengers and a rival gang. There's a brief side-story about two Texas detectives and a sexy spot with The Madame, a whip wielding dominatrix that runs Mob coke and sex to the bikers. Heller befriends an old guy in the desert, loads up on explosives and meets the bikers head on in what could only fit into a “Mad Max” or “Road Warrior” type of climax. In fact, other than learning about Dallas police and a few citizens, “Hell Rider” could have easily just been a doomsday book. It's universally compatible with what we know of that genre – hot sand, blistering highways, biker combatants, lone warriors and no law. Interesting that Schmidt didn't commit completely to that vibe. 

Overall, we've read it, watched it and loved it all before. This story has been done to death in all sorts of media, but Schmidt writes high-octane stories and this is no different. If you are just needing that Saturday afternoon gunfire then “Hell Rider” has you covered. I'll definitely hunt down and read the second and last novel of the series - “Blood Run”. 

Violent Hours

I’ve been beating my head against the wall trying to learn anything useful or interesting about the author of “Violent Hours”, Robert Walsh, but I’ve been coming up empty. I do know that he was a real guy, not a pseudonym. I also know that “Violent Hours” was his first published novel as a Signet paperback original in 1958, but it didn’t seem to be reprinted thereafter. I can find zero evidence that he ever wrote another book that ever saw the light of day.

“Violent Hours” is a half-decent crime novel that had the potential to be great. The story takes place over the course of 22 hours with each chapter comprising a small block of that time (kinda like Fox-TV’s “24”). At 126, big-font pages, it’s a quick novella-length read. 

Our setting is the sleepy, isolated, town of Sareto. Far away from the main highway, the establishment of Sareto doesn’t take kindly to strangers. When a Yankee named Bill Carney is stranded with car trouble, the local mechanic is compelled to report the presence of the stranger to Monty, the town’s sinister land baron. Carney’s first impression is that Monty may own the town, but it’s not much of a prize. To Carney, the town of Sareto looks “like a forgotten prop in a low-budget Western.” 

There is a tense and unsettling feeling to Sareto, and the dark underbelly of this dysfunctional town was the book’s strongest feature. We meet the sexy waitress, Marylou, who grew up with an unbalanced mother and a father who looked at her with lust in his eyes. It’s through Marylou’s perspective that we learn about Monty’s wealth and his history of deliberate cruelty. We later learn that the counterbalance to the Monty’s power is an earnest newspaperman who is preparing to blow the lid off Monty’s corruption through a tell-all article in the town’s paper. Soon enough, the journalist and the stranger meet and discuss a plan to expose Monty to the entire town. All of this is happening in the hours before, during, and after a town dance and beer fest sponsored by Monty to placate the townsfolk and ensure their continued loyalty. 

At its core, “Violent Hours” is just a western novel. In fact, I have a theory that the author may have written this short book as an 1800s western, and New American Library offered to buy it if he changed the setting to the 1950s by simply adding an automobile and a telephone. Consider this: A stranger rolls into a lawless town under the thumb a corrupt boss and a feckless sheriff. The mysterious stranger attempts to bring needed justice to the cowed townsfolk. Violence ensues. The time frame is really immaterial to the story.  

Unfortunately, after a promising start, “Violent Hours” quickly fizzles out. The writing is adequate but nothing special. The bad guys are truly reprehensible and our hero is sufficiently reluctant to get dragged into the internal workings of a small town’s drama before doing just that. The book just lacks originality or any character with real charisma. You’ve seen this story before in many different forms, most of which are more compelling than this iteration. 

Fun Fact: The cover art on “Violent Hours” was painted by Robert Emil Schulz, an artist whose claim to fame was drawing the Brawny Man on the paper towel rolls (good work if you can get it, I imagine). It’s a well-packaged, good-looking book worth owning for the cover alone. The story inside, while not terrible, just isn’t the best use of your time.

The Rat Bastards #03 - River of Blood

This third novel in the 'Rat Bastards' series maintains the very high standards of the first two. The guys are still on Guadalcanal, still fighting the Japanese, and still getting the job done. But the mental and physical burdens get heavier all the time, and we’ll see several of them begin to break down.

The men are individually haunted by fears that they won’t survive the next firefight, that their women back home no longer care about them, that the Army won’t give them the material support they need, and that each new assignment is more impossible than the last. They’re rats trapped in a maze from which there’s no exit.

Don’t get the idea that this book is just some sort of downbeat psychological study. It isn’t. The action comes at you almost continuously, and it’s gritty, tense and exciting. It’s because the author has skillfully brought us into the hearts and minds of these men that we care about what happens to them, in and out of combat. And that’s why this novel is vastly better than your typical 'Abel Team' or 'Phoenix Force' bang-bang shoot-‘em-up story. You won’t be just observing the action. You’ll be in it with them. 

The cover says the author is John Mackie, but it’s really Len Levinson, and I’ve yet to read a book of his that was less than outstanding. He’s the gold standard. However, this book isn’t for everybody. If you’re concerned that graphic depictions of hand-to-hand jungle combat might make you queasy, or if references to “Japs” might be upsetting, you should read something else. (I suggest HOP ON POP; my toddler loves it.)

This is a novel grounded in both reality and humanity. Of course, it’s still pulp fiction, and the magnitude of the action is enhanced for dramatic effect. That’s not a bad thing, it’s a good thing. You want history? Read a history book. You want a hell-for-leather, gut-churning, heart-pounding war saga that’ll keep you sweating through the action and devouring chapter after chapter way past your bedtime? You want RIVER OF BLOOD. 

River of Death

“River of Death” was a late-career release for Scottish adventure writer Alistair Maclean. It was his 27th book among the fiction and non-fiction contributions. By the book's release in 1981, Maclean had made it big, writing numerous international bestsellers and a few screenplays. Unfortunately, the author would pass away just six-years later at the age of 64 (strokes fueled by alcohol abuse).

Instead of frigid Arctic Circle atmosphere, “River of Death” is set in the scorching jungles of South America. This exotic adventure is prefaced with a peek at Germany's downfall in 1945. Two Nazi SS officers, Manteuffel and Spaatz, are stealing a fortune in Grecian treasure from peaceful monks. After loading the goods and burning the temples, Manteuffel leaves Spaatz high and dry, escaping in a submarine with the riches to parts unknown. Spaatz swears vengeance on the traitor.

Fast-forward twenty years and a multimillionaire named Smith hires an adventurer named Hamilton to escort him to the famed Lost City deep in the Brazilian rain forest. There's a host of last names beginning with H that really keeps the confusion at an all-time high – Hamilton, Hiller, Haller and Heffner. It's uncanny. Essentially, we all know who Smith really is and the reader would be a fool to think the Lost City holds anything other than Manteuffel, monkeys and monk money. Maclean isn't fooling anyone. The adventure includes cannibal tribes, an anaconda attack and a rip-roar ride on high-speed rapids. While all of this sounds exciting, it's as flat as Taylor Swift's chest. The obvious reveal and fizzled finale left me closing the book and pondering how to recoup four hours. “River of Death” is the river of boredom.

The Butcher #35 - Gotham Gore

You know how a schlocky action movie will promise you all kinds of crazy, high-velocity mayhem on the DVD cover, but then the movie delivers little or nothing of that and you’re left feeling ripped off?

Well, that happens with action/adventure novels sometimes, and “GOTHAM GORE” is a standout example. It’s the 35th and final novel in the Butcher series, written by Michael Avallone under the pen name Stuart Jason. 

The first disappointment an unsuspecting reader will face is that the Butcher doesn’t live up to his name. If you’re hoping (as I was) that he’s a kill-crazy vigilante psychopath, forget it. He’s actually a former Mafia guy who turned secret agent for the government. Oh well.

As always in this series, the novel opens with the Butcher having to deal with a would-be assassin. Once that’s out of the way, we slowly work our way into the slow-moving story, and slowly begin to realize that none of the cool stuff depicted on the front cover of the paperback will be forthcoming. 

The blurb on the back assures us that the novel has “something to do with black magic, hand grenades and a Demon Master--- with a little Nazi know-how thrown in for good measure.” Well, here’s what you’re led to expect, and what you’ll actually get: 

What you want: The evil Satanic ritual depicted on the book cover, with the human sacrifice of a busty virgin 

What you get: The Satanist is about as creepy as your dad’s accountant; the girl is no longer a virgin (ladies can’t resist the Butcher) and there will be no ritual and no human sacrifice

What you want: The Butcher blowing away bad guys with a machine gun, like he does on the cover

What you get: One pistol, no machine gun. The Butcher shoots only two or three people in the entire book

What you want: That Nazi with the “know-how”

What you get: The Satanist’s henchman is a German guy who never does anything remarkable, other than getting the drop on the Butcher several times but stupidly never killing him

What you want: That “Demon Master”

What you get: No demon, no master

What you want: The Satanist is scheming to blow up New York landmarks like the Empire State Building. Let’s see stuff get blown up!

What you get: Nothing gets blown up but the Satanist and his hide-out

What you want: The book’s called “GOTHAM GORE”, so let’s have some!

What you get: No gore, just a couple of explosions, and they don’t happen in Gotham 

What you want: A fitting conclusion to the saga of 'The Butcher', since this is the final book in the series

What you get: He calls Headquarters, gives the boss his report, that’s about it (mitigating factor: the book is finally over)

Johnny Rotten once asked his audience, “Ever have the feeling you’ve been cheated?” Why yes, Johnny, I have. I’ve read “GOTHAM GORE”.

Fargo #02 - Panama Gold

Ben Haas, as John Benteen, released this second 'Fargo' novel, “Panama Gold”, in 1974. It was featured with several publishers, with different artwork, and most recently reissued as a digital Ebook by the great folks at Piccadilly Publishing. The tag-line is: “Fargo got $20,000 to kill a man and stop an Army. The price was just right”. That conclusively nails down what amounts to be a really entertaining story with all of the familiar conventions we associate with this lionhearted adventurer. 

Fargo served under Roosevelt's “Rough Riders”, and has an allegiance to the “Colonel”. The book's premise has Roosevelt sending Fargo into Panama to stop a 300-man force from delaying the Panama Canal's construction progress. The assignment is to knock off the leader, Cleve Buckner, for a cool twenty grand. Buckner, under protection by Columbia, has been hired by the Germans in what amounts to a logical, albeit confusing, attack on the Army Corp of Engineers. The idea is that Germany will attack France. England will then come to France's aid, thus drawing them into the opposition. If the canal is closed, the the British Pacific Fleet will be blocked from quick entry into the Atlantic. The overall objective is so Germany can build a first-class naval force despite the British threats, thus the war is inevitable. Simplistically, Fargo needs to kill Buckner and we want him to. With his shotgun.

The familiar narrative has Fargo infiltrating Buckner's force through trial by fire. There's a side-story on Fargo's feud with a Major Kane, and a fling with Kane's wife. Hotel fights, dirty cards and horse soldiers are all packed into a fast-paced, light read at 140-pages. It's easy on the eyes and provides tremendous bang for your buck.

Fans of the series will appreciate the author's flair for weapons, incorporating Fargo's trademark arsenal of Fox shotgun, .38 revolver and the handy Batangas knife. These propel the action and keeps it all consistent within the character mold. Next installment is a trip up north for “Alaska Steel”.

Death's Sweet Song

Apparently in the 1950s, American highway motels were often organized as a series of small, stand-alone cabins on a plot of land. For some reason, the cabin-style motel was often used as a setting for hard-boiled crime novels, including “A Ticket to Hell” by Harry Whittington and “Vanishing Ladies” by Richard Marsten (Ed McBain).

“Death’s Sweet Song” by Clifton Adams is a compelling 1953 crime paperback with a dilapidated cabin motel as the setting. Adams was mostly known for his writing in the western genre, but his contemporary hard-boiled crime novels were absolutely top-shelf entertainment, and this one is no exception.

Right off the bat, Adams does a great job of establishing a setting filled with dust and despair. Our narrator, Joe Hooper, owns a super-crappy cabin motel and gas station along Route 66 in rural Oklahoma. No self-respecting tourist would ever stay in Hooper’s unattractive and sweltering cabins in the blistering summer heat. But that’s not the only thing that’s got Hooper down. In addition to the depression of economic failure, he’s also experiencing the malaise of an unenthusiastic relationship with an unremarkable girlfriend. Hooper is a man with a theory: everybody gets one shot in life to make it big, and if you squander that opportunity, there won’t be another. Seething with bitterness over his own failures, Hooper is worried that he either missed his one shot or that it will never come at all.

Enter Mr. & Mrs. Karl and Paula Sheldon.

When the seemingly upscale Sheldons arrive at Hooper’s motel, he is immediately suspicious. Why would a classy guy with a super-hot wife stay in a dusty fleabag? Why is Karl Sheldon lying about having car problems? And why is Paula Sheldon being so flirtatious with Hooper? Some snooping and eavesdropping reveal that the Sheldons are planning a payroll heist in the nearby town. After some proforma ethical waffling, it occurs to Hooper that this heist could be his fabled One Shot to make it big if he can convince the Sheldons to make him a partner in their scheme. The fact that this would entail working closely with the impossibly sexy Paula is an added bonus to the riches that await him now that his potential big break has arrived. But first, Hooper needs to sell Karl on the idea of taking him on as a partner.

Of course, complications arise, and that’s the fun of these femme fatale short crime novels of the 1950s. Not everyone’s agenda is clearly spelled out, and the honor among thieves is always in question. The author keeps the tension and anxiety high by constantly putting the reader inside Hooper’s inner monologue for the entire 150-pages. There is also a scene of brutal violence like nothing I’ve seen in a novel from the 1950s.

Heist novels are a blast, and this one is no exception. Fans of Richard Stark and Lionel White will be able to sink their teeth into this one as crime fiction comfort food. And thanks to a recent reissue from Stark House - packaged as a double along with “Whom Gods Destroy” - you can enjoy this Clifton Adams paperback without breaking the bank. Highest recommendation.

Rogue Lawman #02 - Deadly Prey

“ROGUE LAWMAN”, the first novel in Peter Brandvold’s series, is a very fine adult western. It’s not adult in the sense that there’s a sex scene every fifty pages (there isn’t). It’s adult in the sense that the characters are fleshed out enough to seem like real people rather than pulp archetypes. 

Much of the book’s action is prompted by a tragedy, in which Deputy Marshall Gideon Hawk’s little boy is murdered by an outlaw. Even more devastating for our hero, grief weighs so heavily on his wife’s mind that it drives her to commit suicide. His own anguish is all but unbearable, and when the outlaw beats the murder rap, Hawk goes rogue. Now he’ll devote the rest of his life to hunting down and killing the West’s worst predators, unburdened by the need to gather evidence, apprehend suspects, and wait for the courts to succeed or fail at dispensing justice.

That first novel is excellent, although ironically the author does such an effective job of conveying Hawk’s grief that the book’s entertainment value is dampened somewhat. This is not at all your typical pulp western material, in which good guys shoot bad guys and all’s well with the world. Hawk is a different sort of hero, grim, taciturn and obsessed, with a hunger for revenge that can never be satisfied.

The second novel in the series, “DEADLY PREY”, is consistent with the first, but some of its rougher edges have been sanded down. Hawk’s sadness has been replaced with acceptance. The action is more exhilarating, the outlaws are both menacing and colorful, and there are a few surprisingly sexy interludes, although there still isn’t much actual sex to interrupt the story. 

Brandvold has a knack for making his scenes vivid by salting his prose with lots of tiny descriptive details. For example, other writers will tell you there’s a fire in the fireplace, but Brandvold will tell you about the popping sounds made by exposed sap in the pine logs in that fireplace, and what the distinctive aroma of the smoke is like. Occasionally this kind of thing weighs down the action, but not often. Usually it just helps bring the scenes to life, and his attention to historical detail is another advantage.

Most of “DEADLY PREY” involves Hawk’s efforts to slaughter a huge gang of killers which has invaded a tiny Colorado town just as a snowstorm hits. Essentially, that means finding ways of killing them one or two at a time, without getting caught or killed himself, and it’s a very satisfying read, with plenty of tension and a few surprises. Along the way the reader will meet some unexpected characters, from the grizzled prospector whose only friend is the skeleton he shares his cabin with, to the outlaw who gets gunned down and farts on his way to the floor, to the roaring bisexual sister of the outlaw leader, who’s every bit as vicious and deadly as he is.

I visualize John Russell (of the old TV western “LAWMAN”) in the role of Hawk, and he’d have been perfect for it. I’m glad that two of my favorite genres--- the western and the vigilante story--- intersect so perfectly with this series. I’m also glad that there are several more 'Rogue Lawman' books on my shelf, yet to be read. And with any luck, Brandvold will write a few dozen more!

Dakota #02 - Red Revenge

“Red Revenge” is another top-notch effort from author Gilbert Ralston. It was released in 1974 through the popular Pinnacle Adventure line and marks the second installment of modern western series 'Dakota'. As I mentioned in my review of the series debut, “Dakota Warpath”, this character is strikingly similar to what Craig Johnson would do years later with his 'Longmire' character. 

This book mentions some of the events that transpired in the series opener. Ralston almost has a hometown feeling to the book, by outlining and describing all of the characters that make up this colorful Carson Valley town. Some were introduced in the prior book, some are new. Dakota has a love interest here named Alicia, and based on the book's ending she could be a recurring character throughout the series. The storyline of Dakota's sick father continues and concludes in this book. Also, the young Native American that Dakota assisted in the prior novel is a steadfast character here - sort of the action-assistant or inexperienced ally. Louis serves as a dialogue direction as Dakota explains to the reader what he's doing with the case.

The Board of Directors of Grayson Electric have been kidnapped for ransom in Lake Tahoe. The employees' families reach out to Dakota to offer assistance. They need to pay three-million in bearer bonds to the kidnappers, or heads will roll. While they sort out the collateral, Dakota starts the search for where the men are being held. This is about half of the book and is a really entertaining nod to detective fiction – checking leads, interviewing potential witnesses, etc. Eventually, Dakota taps a location and loads the guns.

Dakota, being Shoshone, has two blood brothers that join him for the rescue attempt. Ralston absolutely nails the liberation, from hunting and killing to an all-out assault. It's done remarkably well, and includes a fair amount of car run 'n gun and a robust body count. After the high-impact finale, Ralston doesn't just throw the sheets on the corpse. He lets us stick around for 20-more pages while the story is ironed out, bodies are named and Dakota himself explains his actions to law-enforcement. It's a unique angle that few authors rarely conceive and deliver. What happens when the smoke clears and the hero has killed the bad guys? It's not as black and white as the end credits make it seem. Ralston understands that and I applaud him for giving us a little more than standard volume feedback. 

Dakota hits the Big Apple next for “Cat Trap”. 

A Hell Of A Woman

Among the crime authors who rose to prominence in the 1950s, Jim Thompson seems to get more modern praise in literary circles than his paperback original contemporaries. His work is spoken with a kind of reverence that Harry Whittington, Charles Wileford, and Bruno Fischer never seem to receive. Was Jim Thompson really that much better?

“A Hell of a Woman” was a Lion Books 1954 mid-career effort from Thompson. It’s a 200-page, first-person con-man story told from the perspective of Frank “Dolly” Dillon, a door-to-door salesman working for Pay-E-Zee - essentially a walking department store peddling goods on credit installment plans to rural rubes. As the novel opens, we learn that Dillon is working himself into a financial hole and has been skimming cash from his collections to make ends meet with a lazy, dumpy wife in his roach-infested home. 

Thomson doesn’t waste any time getting into the intrigue. In the first chapter, Dillon is trying to sell silverware to an old lady and immediately finds himself in a dark and sexualized situation with the old lady’s buxom niece, Mona. We learn that the old woman’s practice of pimping Mona for sex to traveling salesmen in exchange for consumer products is nothing new, and smitten Dillon promises to rescue the girl from this life of perpetual sexual trauma. 

Thompson’s willingness to mine the depths of human depravity must have been one of the things that set him apart from his crime novelist cohorts. And the murders that take place in this short work are more shocking and violent than others from this era. However, a mere race to the bottom would have been meaningless if he wasn’t such a damn fine writer. The text is very raw, and his descriptions of women, for example, are simply brutal. Dillon’s first person narration is conversational, but it’s also the vehicle for a deeper understanding of his nature - he’s a grifter with a real - though easily compromised - conscience. 

Thompson employs a first-person literary perspective trick halfway through the novel and periodically thereafter that bolsters the idea that he wanted his pulpy crime novel to be more literary than other books of the time. But otherwise, this is just a very entertaining, well-written, gritty noir novel filled with anti-heroes, femme fatales, and double-crosses. It’s a great read and a terrific introduction to Thompson’s body of work. Maybe it’s not breaking new ground, but if the paperback original crime fiction of this era is your thing (and it really should be), “A Hell of a Woman” is truly essential reading.

87th Precinct #01- Cop Hater

It's intimidating to write a literary critique for Ed McBain's kickstarter Cop Hater. Written by Evan Hunter, it's the mantle piece for the police procedural book and the debut of the highly respectable 87^th Precinct series. According to the author, it was written in 1955 after spending a lengthy amount of time within the NYPD researching and planning. In the Thomas & Mercer re-print, Hunter's introduction provides an intimate peek at the book's development (which you can read for free as an Amazon download sample) and the conception of the pseudonym McBain.

While the police procedural could probably be linked to a handful of novels a decade before, the 87^th Precinct series was probably only rivaled by the show that influenced it – Dragnet. While detective Steve Carella is featured as a main character, the series is one of the first (if not first) to feature a conglomerate hero, the squad of cops that make up the fictional 87^th Precinct. The squad is a character just as much as the unnamed fictional city is. Hunter, while struggling with placing the series in New York City, found it much easier to fictionalize the city while using NYC as a primary blueprint.

While not ruining it for the new reader, the concept of Cop Hater is essentially that – a madman targeting police officers of the 87^th Precinct. Like a good Agatha Christie whodunit, the mystery enlarges as the corpses stack up. While never explicit or terribly violent (or I'm just numb), we familiarize ourselves with these officers only to find them shockingly killed off before our very eyes. We're at the scene of the crime, but never know the killer's identity until the end. It's not a first-person narration like a majority of detective fiction, instead it's the author leading us through the alleys, buildings and squad rooms of this sweltering city. Detective Steve Carella is firmly embedded in the action, introduced here along with his fiance, the lovable Theodora Franklin.

The muggy July heat plays havoc on these characters, eroding patience, love and goodwill with a toxic, febrile blanket of exhaustion. Hunter would steadfastly utilize weather as a character itself, inserting climatic changes to these stories to enrich and enhance the atmosphere. At times the dialogue is as simple as the police interviews – Who, Where, What and the allusive Why. It's our struggle every bit as much as the cops. By the closing pages it's all a frantic chase for the pre-smoking barrel, stopping the .45 slug from finding the next blue shirt. 

Cop Hater is masterfully penned, properly paced and is worthy of the praise heaped on it for half a century.

Get a copy of the book HERE.

The Enforcer #03 - Kill City

Andrew Sugar's third entry in his vigilante series 'Enforcer' is “Kill City”, released in 1973 by Lancer. Like the prior two books, “Kill City” was purchased by Manor and reprinted in 1976 with new, more superior artwork courtesy of George Gross (who did early 'Executioner' books before Gil Cohen took over). Gross's artwork really captures the feel of the book, detailing many of the action sequences found within. The red, white and blue color scheme is important to the story fundamentals – Enforcer Jason is preventing a mass terrorist attack on major US cities. With the obligatory ticking time bomb comes some political intrigue and subtext regarding a nation divided by color.

Like the series debut “Caribbean Kill”, the novel starts by revealing a wounded Jason after the finale showdown. The author paints enough sketchy brush strokes to give us a feel of the story, but leaves all the details and plot planning for subsequent chapters. In those, Jason is mugged off-assignment and rescued by a vigilante force called The Patrol. In the incident, the mugger shockingly turns the gun on himself, committing suicide on the sidewalk. Perplexed, Jason takes the mystery to the institute (the place where they make a new body for Jason every 90 days in an effort to fight crime worldwide). Collectively, the institute formulates a tactical infiltration of The Patrol. 

Combining the institute's resources, Jason utilizes a black associate named Calvin to tackle the assignment. The Patrol is actually the Caucasian vigilante force. There's also an African-American version stereo-typically deemed Brigade of Brothers. While the surface level indicates no foul play, Jason and Calvin infiltrate the two forces, black and white, and unveil a global conspiracy to detonate Suicide Stimulators (called Suzies) across major US cities. The overall effort is conducted by one of Jason's rivals from the first book. 

Sugar really nails this one, fetching the same sort of intrigue, mystery and explosive action as the predecessor, “Calling Doctor Kill”. While the clone bodies, Jason's body jumping and his masterful art of Ki have all been elements of the prior installments, these inclusions are more expanded with “Kill City”. Beyond what we already knew, Jason stumbles on a few new tricks while fumbling with the two criminal factions. Sugar, always explicit, throws in some X-Rated steam as Jason works over Janet, his love interest from book two. 

Overall, “Kill City” is a thrill-ride of epic proportions and continues to catapult the series into the higher echelon of the genre.

Thanks to Bob Deis of MensPulpMags.com for the assistance on the book's artist and artwork.

The D.C. Man #02 - Search and Destroy

The D.C. Man was a four-book action series released in 1974 and 1975 by a former Roman Catholic priest named Peter Rohrbach under the name James P. Cody. The series tracks the adventures of a Washington lobbyist and political troubleshooter named Brian Peterson who uses guns, political connections and brains to solve sensitive problems for Capital Hill big shots. One doesn’t need to read The D.C. Man books in any order as they stand well on their own, and relevant facts from the hero’s backstory are well explained in the first few chapters.

In this second installment, Peterson is hired by the attractive daughter of a US Senator to investigate the validity of her father’s recent suicide. At first, Peterson is skeptical that the Senator’s gun-in-the-mouth routine was anything other than self-inflicted, but the reader can see where this is heading once we learn that the Senator has been quietly investigating the scourge of 1970s men’s adventure fiction: The Mafia.

The setup and setting for The D.C. Man books provided the author great flexibility for story ideas - credibly toggling between espionage, crime, and political intrigue. This one is more of a straightforward private eye novel. Peterson follows leads diligently moving from person-to-person conducting interviews. Periodically, unidentified goons try to hurt or stop him, and those scenes of violence are always well-written and exciting. A sexual interest arises with a comely female character, and the resulting coupling is slightly more graphic than most crime novels from that era (but less explicit than, say, a Longarm western). In other words, there’s not much to distinguish this story from a solid, workmanlike P.I. novel starring Mike Shayne, Johnny Liddell, or Peter Chambers.

One thing that sets The D.C. Man apart from its contemporaries is the setting and era. The smoke of distrust and corruption of post-Watergate Washington, DC is thick in this story. Peterson spends a lot of physical and mental energy to figure out if the Senator killed himself because he feared the exposure of his own corruption or whether his corruption lead to his murder. The idea that the late Senator deserves a fair shake isn’t even an option for Peterson until a character confronts him about his anti-politician bias several chapters into the book. The symbiotic relationship between elected officials, their staffs, lobbyists, and the press is the fuel that feeds The D.C. Man books. This is a sexy, violent thriller for American political junkies.

By the time Peterson solves the novel’s central mystery concerning the reasons for the Senator’s death, the body count begins climbing exponentially. The brutality of each subsequent death appears to increase as our hero veers deeper into Mack Bolan territory - a lobbyist’s war against the mafia, if you will. The many action scenes are legitimately exciting and filled with gunplay and gripping suspense.

Overall, this second book in The D.C. Man series was another winner in a series that deserves more accolades than it ever received as a new release in the 1970s. Thankfully, Brash Books has reprinted all four novels in new editions with an introduction by yours truly. Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Earl Drake #03 - Operation Fireball

 The general consensus is that Dan J. Marlowe's “The Name of the Game is Death” and “One Endless Hour” make the best of list for the hard-boiled genre. Those novels, released in 1962 and 1968, were riveting caper romps that symbolized everything we loved about the genre – peril, betrayal, guns and money. It's first person narration from the man with no name (or face!) was mesmerizing, painting a lifespan mired in corruption, vengeance, angst and adversity. While not overly complex, it was deep reading that allowed the reader a spot in the hotseat. We were staring down the barrel as much as the storyteller – the smoking gun a cautionary warning of the hot winds of Hell. While both of Marlowe's novels are held in high regard, those opinions are much weaker for the third and subsequent books of the 'Drake' series. Instead of jerking a .38 Special and navigating vault rooms, 1969's “Operation Fireball” provides M-16s, claymore mines and dodging MIG-17s. It's just a totally different style that isn't altogether bad...it's just seeing the characters on a different stage.

Three-fourths of Marlowe's “Operation Fireball” runs the same playbook as “One Endless Hour”. Earl Drake (his real name was never provided by the author) takes a heist job to steal millions from a Cuban military compound. Replace a Philly bank with a Cuban stronghold and you get the same strategy. The majority of the book is the assembly of players – Drake, Hazel (Drake's lover from the first two novels), Erikson, Wilson and Slater. Each have a role in the heist, complete from transmission, boats, firearms, locks and funding. The book methodically assembles the team, outlines the mission and provides the stakes in much the same way Marlowe aligned the team in the last book. It's the closing chapters that really set it apart.

International waters shows a metamorphosis from caper to spy. Drake is faking his way onto a US Destroyer ship, then faking his way into the Cuban military. From brothels to bars, the team penetrates Havana while dodging firing squads, fighter jets, machine guns and mines. Essentially, it's a new breed of Drake fiction that really showcases a completely different type of storytelling. The book's ending conclusively proves that the series is taking a different direction in much the same way Bolan transformed at number 39. It isn't necessarily a reflection of poor writing, as those books and this specific book still provide entertainment and enjoyment. It's just a different way to park the horse. Whether you continued the series post-1968 or not, Marlowe delivered quality storytelling on “Operation Fireball”. I've yet to explore the rest of the series or any of Marlowe's stand-alones, but based on this entry, I'm probably all in.

Buy a copy of this book HERE

The Executioner #77 - Hollywood Hell

Hollywood Hell, the 77th book in the durable Mack Bolan saga, is a transitional novel, sitting at the half-way point between Don Pendleton’s original vision and the quasi-secret agent stories we'll get later in the series. 

The novel keeps it vague, but Bolan seems to be working as a hired gun this time. The assignment is to find the wayward daughter of a Senate candidate, and get her out of the porno underworld. Actually, she’s in something like the underworld beneath that underworld, where drugged-up prisoners are forced into all sorts of awful things before being killed on-camera.

That’s a pretty strong premise, but what makes it better is that Bolan is back in Mafia-busting mode, because the local crime family is running the whole scummy show. In fact, it’s the very same family Bolan took down in the third book of the series, Battle Mask, now re-organized with more sleaze than ever before. On the other side of the law, Bolan’s old police nemesis Captain Braddock is still on the force, and he just might be willing to play a role in the big take-down Bolan is planning. 

Author Mike Newton keeps things moving pretty well, but the most interesting things aren’t the inevitable gun battles. Far more memorable are various scenes in which Bolan seeks out the kingpins of the flesh trade. There’s a great confrontation sequence in one of those ratty old Hollywood apartment buildings which escalates into a brawl involving mobsters, Mohawked punks and bikers. Another highlight comes when Bolan attends an invitation-only screening of a snuff film, and his rage against the masturbating creeps around him boils over. Scenes like these make his mission personal, and a little more meaningful than your typical Gold Eagle testosterone party.

So the book has its strengths, but I found the author’s prose to be clunky and long-winded. He also had an annoying habit of ending sentences with the word “right,” which I guess was meant to lend a conversational tone. (It works okay when you’re talking to someone in person, right? But when the narrator of a novel uses it over and over, it comes across as contrived and irritating, right?) The book’s dialogue was pretty good, but there wasn’t nearly enough of it. My final beef is with the climax. Without giving too much away, Bolan’s brother Johnny takes part in the big final showdown. Guns are still blazing when Mack is forced to leave the scene, and he takes us with him. As to whether Johnny lives or dies, who knows? He’s never mentioned again.

I’d still rather have something like Hollywood Hell than most of the later Mack Bolan books. For all its flaws, there’s some good stuff here. But if you haven’t read all of Don Pendleton’s original Executioner novels yet (#1-15 and #17-38), get hold of those first. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE

The Loving and the Dead

Beginning in the 1950s, Australia-based author Carter Brown (real name: Alan Yates) wrote over 300 short, sexy, formulaic, mystery novels starring largely-interchangeable American investigators including Al Wheeler, Danny Boyd, and Rick Holman. The books are great fun as long as the reader understands that these 120-page quickies are basically literary snack food. 

Between 1955 and 1974, Brown authored a dozen novels starring a sexy - but ditzy -female private eye named Mavis Seidlitz. These novels add a bit more humor to the mysterious mix, and they are often fan-favorites among Brown’s massive body of work. “The Loving and the Dead” (1959) was Brown’s fifth entry into the Mavis series, but these easy-reading novels can be enjoyed in any order. Unlike the books starring Brown’s male protagonists, the Mavis books are often laugh-out-loud funny with the patter clearly influenced by George Burns-Gracie Allen routines. Everyone that Mavis encounters quickly becomes the straight-man for her one-liners and double-ententes. 

In this one, the setup is simple and inspired by Agatha Christie. At the request of her partner, Johnny Rio, Mavis must go undercover for a long weekend as the wife of an heir to a great fortune. If the client and his “wife” can survive the family weekend, he stands to inherit millions. Participants and servants at the family retreat are occasionally murdered, and the killer is among them for Mavis to catch. If this doesn’t make much sense to you, please understand that this is a Carter Brown novel and the plot is a just pretext for sexy, madcap detective work among eccentric suspects. 

It’s no spoiler to reveal that Mavis gets laid, but this was written before Brown’s editors added graphic sex to his novels for U.S. consumption. She also has the opportunity to kick some ass and do some actual investigating in her push-up bra and short skirts. It’s hard not to feel real affection for Mavis who displays a likable combination of sweetness, naïveté, and toughness.

If there’s anything to criticize in this novel, it’s that things get a little too implausibly wacky at times. For example, there’s a character who walks around the whole time with a ventriloquist dummy, and the dummy does most of the talking for him. At it’s best, “The Loving and the Dead” feels like a comedic Donald Westlake crime novel, but there are times where the silliness descends into sheer farce. 

If you’re looking for a light, enjoyable, crime novel with some laughs, this one is a fine introduction to a lovable character with plenty to enjoy. Just don’t expect anything with more depth than an average episode of Scooby-Doo. Recommended if you want something light and insubstantial.

Violent Maverick (aka Wet Cattle)

Walt Coburn was first and foremost a cowboy. The Montana native was the son of Robert Coburn, the founder of Circle C Ranch. In the late 1800s, this was the largest ranch in the northwest (Montana didn't become a state until 1889). Coburn cut his teeth as a cowboy, and served in WWI before becoming a full-time writer in the 1920s. From that period through the 1940s, the author contributed over a hundred stories to the pulps, predominantly “Dime Western Magazine”. From the 1930s through the early 1970s, he wrote over 30 western novels, including “Wet Cattle” in 1955. In 1970, the novel's title was changed to the much more gritty sounding “Violent Maverick” via the Macfadden-Bartell line.

Penniless cowboy Pat Roper saved Mexican bandit Pablo Guerrero's life in a prior gun-battle. Pablo runs into Roper in a firefight over stolen cattle at the Arizona-Mexican border. Pablo gifts Roper the Two Block ranch, 25,000 acres of good feed, water and a some start-up cattle. The problem is that Pablo is running guns through it in an attempt to overthrow the Mexican government. Roper, not digging into the devil in the details, accepts the gift and takes the ranch. He later finds out that Pablo's lifetime enemy, Wig Murphy, borders the ranch with his own cattle empire, and he's crushing the Two Block ranch out.

Coburn's validity as a real cowboy is a catch-22. While his books possess dirty, dusty realism, they are written in “cowboy” terminology that's sometimes really hard to decipher. It's this element that dampened what was otherwise a well-crafted story in “Violent Maverick”. It's a short read at 140-pages, and has a breakneck pace that had me finishing it in less than two hours. Was I maniacally rushing so it was over quickly, or because I wanted to learn the fate of young sod-buster Pat Roper? Probably a little of both. The end result is just another dog-eared, yellowed western that passes the time.

Texas Fever

World War II veteran and author Donald Hamilton is best known for his 'Matt Helm’ spy series. That long running line ran from 1960 through the 1990s. Hamilton also contributed stand-alone crime novels in the 40s and 50s as well as six westerns penned in the mid 50s and early 60s. This novel, “Texas Fever”, was released by Fawcett Gold Medal in 1960, and reprinted again by the publisher in 1989 with a slightly modern cover (resembling something more akin to 80s Pinnacle or Zebra). At it's heart, “Texas Fever” is a coming-of-age tale, but it's wrapped in a dusty, rugged range war that emphasizes the “classic western” brand. 

Young Chuck McAuliffe is on a cattle-drive from Texas through Kansas. His father, Jesse is a Confederate veteran, as is his brother David. The family have been pushed hard, with their ranch nearing foreclosure. This drive hopes to net them $20 a head on a herd nearing 1,200. My guess on the time period is right around the late 1860s, a time when Texas and their steer were still considered scruff and repellent. Complicating matters is a cow disease that warrants the law and buyers to envelope the mid-west in a quarantine. After being forced west at numerous junctions, Jesse, back to the wall, stampedes the quarantine and is killed. 

The heart of the story is a cow theft operation that forces weary, tired and broke cattlemen to sell their stock at pennies on a dollar. Chuck sees through the scam, and takes his battle to the crooked preacher, deputy and outlaw. As Chuck is forced to mature and harden fast, he meets up with a con-woman who takes his virginity before trying to go clean in an alliance with him. Soon things get out of hand, and the barrels heat up.

Hamilton tells the tale well, pausing for backstory, to propel the narrative. The opening third is fisticuff action, all in the classic western mold – cattle thieves, cap and ball fire and well-defined “good guys”. The middle is bogged down with the convoluted alliances, a confused sheriff and the overall love-dove dialogue. The closing third returns to the prairie, with enough hard-charging mounts and gunfire to fully redeem itself. A quality, enjoyable read from a rare Hamilton western.

Stoner #04 - King's Ransom

Ralph Hayes conclusion to his four book series 'Stoner' was “King's Ransom”. It was released by Manor in 1978 and is the only entry that doesn't have the series name or number on the cover. I'm not sure why the publisher went this route considering the artwork leaves much to be desired. Perhaps that was the main issue? The lack of quality artwork to support the 'Stoner' title? While the previous three entries look fantastic, this one seems rather dull. But the contents offer us another quality entry in what amounted to a fantastic short-lived series.

Unlike the prior three novels, “King's Ransom” puts Stoner on the trail for a kidnapped corporate hotshot instead of a treasure or stolen relic. It's another urban installment, like the prior book “All That Glitters”. Set in Buenos Aires and Argentina, the novel has a militant group called the Mendoza Committee planning a snatch and run of Thurston King, head of an empirical oil company called AROCO. The terrorist group wants to rid corporate, and oil companies, from Argentina and wants to make an example out of King. The plot is to kidnap King and ransom him for three-million dollars. How this solves anything is debatable, but it's a surefire way to set up Stoner versus the baddies.

Argentina government contracts Stoner to assist the police in retrieving King. It's another $50K offer like the last jobs (I guess this is market rate for retrieval of stolen people and goods?) and Stoner takes the contract. On the flip-side, this Mendoza Committee ruthlessly kills King's son while mouth raping his wife. King is taken to a cottage in Buenos Aires, shot in the knee cap and left to starve, dehydrate and die while waiting for his employer to pony up. In a satirical way, the company finds King expendable and isn't going to pay a dime to liberate him. Thankfully, he has Stoner on the case.

This is probably the worst of the series, but the series is so good that even worst could be first when compared to other late 70s action offerings. While the first two books didn't showcase a whole lot of fighting skills from Stoner, these last two introduce a more formidable fighting force. Hayes, again completely oblivious to firearms, has the hero running around with the fictitious Magnum .38 revolver (he has it confused with the .357) and I cringed each time the bad guy screwed a suppressor on a revolver. It's trivial nonsense but as a firearm enthusiast it drives me batshit bonkers. Overall, you can't go wrong with “King's Ransom”. Hunt these four books down, turn your brain off and just have a damn good time.