“You want me to recover your lost packages.”
“Or the cash, if they done offed it already. I’m not looking for any muscle here, Spero. Just get me back what’s mine. No one I got has your skills. I see what you did for my son. Got to say I was impressed.”
“What’s the value of the product?”
“Wholesale?”
“Retail,” said Lucas.
“Roughly, one hundred and thirty thousand.”
“I’d get forty.”
“Thousand.”
“Percent,” said Lucas.
“That’s fifty thousand and change.”
“Fifty two. Per package.”

Book Review:

Review by Chuck Barksdale  AUG 29, 2011)

In The Cut, the first book in a new series, George Pelecanos presents 29-year old tough private investigator and Iraqi war vet Spero Lucas. Lucas’s main job is to help defense attorney Tom Petersen, but he also works on his own at times. After helping gather information that leads to the acquittal of 15-year-old David Hawkins, Spero, at the request of Petersen, decides to visit with David’s father Anwan Hawkins, a drug dealer also represented by attorney Tom Petersen. Hawkins, in prison awaiting a major drug charge, wants Spero to investigate some theft of marijuana from a couple of his employees who are still running his drug business. Although somewhat reluctant, Spero decides to help as long as his 40% return fee cut is agreed to by Hawkins.

Spero meets with Hawkins’ two main lieutenants, Tavon Lynch and Edwin Davis, both 20 and overconfident in their ability from Spero’s perspective. They explain that drugs are shipped by overnight mail to homes where resident are not at home during the day. Twice their deliveries have been taken from the selected homes before they could quickly claim it. Lucas finds that this is not some small time theft and he quickly finds things not as he expected and has to face some pressure to stop his investigation. He’s certainly up for the challenge and is not afraid to show a little violence of his own to get what he wants and needs.

The Cut is certainly an excellent start of this new series that will be sure to bring back some readers who were missing some hard crime that was less prevalent in Pelecanos’ recent work. Of course, the dedicated readers will also be satisfied as well.

I became a fan of George Pelecanos in 2002 after deciding to buy Right as Rain at a book signing where he showed up with Michael Connelly. At that point, I had not heard of him but was impressed with what he had to say and what he read from the book. After reading Right as Rain, I quickly looked for his backlist of titles (only 5 books at that time) and have read almost everything he has written since. He has changed somewhat over the years depending on what he wanted to write, but everything he has written has certainly had that George Pelecanos style with excellent but rough dialog with most action taking place in and around the parts of Washington DC not visited by tourists.

In recent years, Pelecanos has spent more time on family relationships than on private investigators that were more prevalent in his earlier works, especially in the Derek Strange series that started with Right as Rain. With The Cut, he has returned to this style, although of course, family relationships are still important and prevalent. The family in The Cut is not very traditional, but has the typical Pelecanos’ Greek influences, even though Spero and most of his siblings are adopted and not Greek. Spero Lucas’ relationship with his father is also important to him and even though his father has passed, he always finds time to visit his gravesite. Spero is closest to his brother Leo, an African-American English teacher of one of the inner city schools. Spero and Lucas are the two favorite children of their Mother Eleni and the only ones who still spend any time with her. Lucas does need the help of Leo when a potential witness to one of the drug thefts is Ernest Lindsay, a student of Leo’s. Lucas shows his softer side when he works hard to protect Lindsay when he becomes potentially threatened.

Although I’ve read most of George Pelecanos’ books, I have difficulty in remembering all his various characters (plus I’ve still not read 2 of his early books). I’ve noticed in prior books that he likes to make some of his characters make minor or sometimes not so minor, appearance in his books. One of these days, I’ll write the characters names down so I don’t miss these references as that will be the only way I will remember. I did pick up the minor reference to Derek Strange, but if I missed any others, I apologize and would appreciate if you could let me know.

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 83 readers
PUBLISHER:	Reagan Arthur Books (August 29, 2011)
REVIEWER:	Chuck Barksdale
AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE BOOK?	YES! Start Reading Now!
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	George Pelecanos
EXTRAS:	Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	We are big fans of George Pelecanos, read more of our reviews: The Way Home The Turnaround The Night Gardener Drama City Hard Revolution Soul Circus Hell to Pay Nick’s Trip

Bibliography:

Featuring Derek Strange and Terry Quinn:

• Right as Rain (2001)
• Hell to Pay (2002)
• Soul Circus (2003)
• Hard Revolution (2004)

Featuring P.I. Spero Lucas:

• The Cut (2011)
• The Double (October 2013)

Featuring Nick Stefanos:

• A Firing Offense (1992)
• Nick’s Trip (1993)
• Down by the River Where the Dead Men Go (1995)

The D.C. Quartet:

• The Big Blowdown (1996)
• King Suckerman (1997)
• The Sweet Forever (1998)
• Shame the Devil (Jan 2000)

Other:

• Shoedog (1994)
• Drama City (2005)
• The Night Gardener (2006)
• The Turnaround (2008)
• The Way Home (2009)

“Doc got on the Santa Monica Freeway, and about the time he was making the transition to the San Diego southbound, the fog began its nightly roll inland. He pushed his hair off of his face, turned up the radio volume, lit a Kool, sank back in a cruising slouch, and watched everything slowly disappear, the trees and shrubbery along the median, the yellow school-bus poll at Palms, the lights in the hills, the signs above the freeway that told you where you were, the planes descending to the airport. The third dimension grew less and less reliable…”

Book Review:

Review by Doug Bruns (NOV 20, 2009)

Larry “Doc” Sportello, the protagonist of this latest Pynchon novel, is the quintessential hippy wild-man. He sometimes teases his hair into an Afro. He never passes up an opportunity to get high. He listens to rock ‘n roll, preferably stoned, and practices “free love” whenever–and wherever–he can make that happen. And yet he is a respected private investigator, a man who, in spite of himself, exercising wit and humor, succeeds. But just by the skin of his nicotine-stained teeth.

Pynchon is one of our masters, a heavyweight of American literature, the creator of fantastic personalities and teller of tall tales. He creates universes and peoples them with the odd and eccentric, the funny and the forsaken. In that respect, Inherent Vice follows in perfect Pynchon tradition. In this novel an over-saturated pulsating universe is dialed up and tuned in. It is filled with smoke and color and loud music and bright lights. But it’s not so much a crazy over-the-top universe, really. Rather, it is Los Angles circa 1970. The hippie culture is in full blossom, but a frost is in the air. Charles Manson has committed his era-ending crime. Nixon is in the White House, and his detractors are starting to smell a skunk. Yet some, like Doc, continue to wander around in a self-induced fog, spent and wasted most of the time. Doc just happens to occasionally get sober enough and lucky enough to keep his surprisingly well-adjusted head above water, while all about him the world goes helter skelter.

Doc is hired by his ex-girl friend, Shasta Fey Hepworth, to find her married tycoon boyfriend, LA developer, Mickie Woolfmann, whom she fears has been done dirty by his wife, who is probably in cahoots with her boyfriend. But Mickie, the boy-friend husband, has horsepower and bodyguards–who unfortunately didn’t, guard his body, that is. They are too busy trying to snag, score and guard the body of one of the many curvaceous southern California, bikini-clad femme fatales who populate this novel. The fix is in, in this crazy noir stoner detective story. Like a loose tapestry that is pulled a bit in this direction, starts to unravel in that direction, Inherent Vice twists this way, turns that, until your head spins–down you go, into a rabbit hole of swirling stories, acid trips and decaying culture and all the while the breaking of Gordita Beach waves where Doc lives, sandal-side, California-style, grooving that all is right with the world, regardless of Kissinger carpet bombing Cambodia, for the culture of the beach is what sustains him. Hang ten, man. If you get the sense that this is a dense collection of riffs accented by word play and nostalgia, you are correct. There is also the music. (Amazon has complied a playlist of over fifty tunes found in the novel.) Too, there is something about an odd network of computers which might someday become a web encompassing the whole wide world. And too, the drug cartel, Golden Fang, which is probably mixed up in Mickie’s sudden disappearance, unless it has something to do with the lost continent of Lemuria, which seems about to make a reappearance above the waves of the Pacific. Say, is that doobie behind your ear?

I started out trying to keep score of who’s who, or more usually, who’s doing whom–but somewhere about page twenty I ran out of steam. They come, they go, the crazies mixed up with the recognizable. Tariq Khalil and Casey Kasum, Gilligan, the Skipper and Clancy Charlock. Hawaii Five-O and the Magic Kingdom. The sixties on speed, rolled into less than four hundred pages of free-wheeling top-down less-serious-than-Pynchon Pynchon. Once I tossed my crib sheet aside and gave myself to the experience (that is the essence of the sixties, no?), the book opened for me and the fun began. The success of this book is the rumbling flow, like a ride in Shasta Fey’s ’59 Eldorado Biarritz. The pleasure is in the density, the twists and turns. Ride it like a perfect wave, as Doc would, if he would just get off the sofa, put out the reefer and turn off the Looney Tunes reruns.

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 128 readers
PUBLISHER:	Penguin Press HC, First Edition (August 4, 2009)
REVIEWER:	Doug Bruns
AMAZON PAGE:	Inherit Vice
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Thomas Pynchon Wikipedia page on Thomas Pynchon
EXTRAS:	Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	Another crazy detective story: Humpty Dumpty was Pushed by Marc Blatte Fifty-to=One by Charles Ardai And another recent book set in the 1970s: Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann

Bibliography:

• V. (1963)
• The Crying of Lot 49 (1966)
• Gravity’s Rainbow (1974)
• Slow Learner: Stories (1984)
• Vineland (1990)
• Mason & Dixon (1997)
• Against the Day (2006)
• Inherit Vice (2009)
• Bleeding Edge (September 2013)

“In danger and in lovemaking our bodies are transformed. Blood flows rapidly to all the necessary parts, our muscles expand and our joints become more fluid. We’re at the height of our efficiency, like it’s what we were meant to do. It makes all the other activities in our life seem like a ridiculous waste of breath. Meaningless fillers between love and death. But to be honest, I’d rather been home watching TV.”

Book Review:

Review by Daniel Luft (SEP 3, 2009)

Russell Atwood’s Losers Live Longer is a warm and inviting book, like an old memory of a trip to Grandma’s house – that’s if your grandmother was Barbara Stanwyck in a slit skirt and she was packing heat.

Payton Sherwood, the narrator, of this fast-moving novel, is a tough-talking, cop-hating, gun-toting, New York private eye who wisecracks his way through a book-length 24 hours on the trail of a blackmailer, a millionaire fugitive and a Hollywood starlet. It’s reads like the last three decades of crime fiction never existed.

There was once a time, the 1920s through the 1960s when the private eye was found throughout crime fiction. And having a fun time of it. A quick re-read of Dashiell Hammett may surprise the reader because his operatives are having fun risking their necks. Other unflappable detectives followed. Frank Kane gave us Johnny Liddell, Brett Halliday birthed Mike Shayne and the terminally-underrated Mickey Spillane unleashed Mike Hammer. They all existed in short, sexy, punchy novels that could be both thrilling and funny.

During the 1960s, the private eye was slowly replaced on the paperback racks by the international spy or the big city cop novel. And the mysteries became longer, almost ponderous. The more tragic, “serious” PI novels of Raymond Chandler and Ross MacDonald had gathered the critical praise through the years and those are the ones that get reprinted and remembered and imitated. But there once was a time when the private detective genre was full of fun.

And Losers Live Longer is full of private detectives. Sherwood bumps up against no less than five other private eyes in a single day. Each one he meets talks tough, carries a gun, roughs him up and probably smokes.

It begins when he receives a call from legendary PI (there is such a thing?) George Rowell. Rowell is in Lower Manhattan trying to help a friend when he thinks he’s being tailed. He calls Sherwood and asks for some backup. But before Rowell can meet with Sherwood and explain the case fully, he is run over in traffic outside Sherwood’s office. Sherwood than decides to try to find out about both Rowell and what he was working on before he died.

This simple act leads him to his angry, old boss (another PI), a couple of East Bloc refugees from the porn industry, a drug-addicted girlfriend of a recently-overdosed actor and a skateboarding punk who seems to know everything before Sherwood figures anything out.

And Sherwood himself is not much of a detective to begin with. He’s broke, he’s tired, he still uses dial-up and he’s shoeless throughout chapter two. All he really has going for himself is his wit and an ability to stay awake throughout the entire book:

“There’s and undeniable thrill in being hunted. Whether it’s race memory, instinct or perversion, since childhood we’ve all enjoyed the game of hide-and-seek. And there was an atavistic part of me that wanted to enjoy it even now. But seeing a boy’s head shot off would dampen even the most ardent player’s enthusiasm.”

This kind of narrator makes for a breezy ride and a book that begs to be read in a single sitting. And it is only in a single sitting that this plot-stuffed novel will make sense to the reader. There are so many strange characters and plot twists coming at this detective that it’s amazing he knows what to do next.

The story takes place very much in the present. There are ipods, cell phones, Google and storefronts that still exist in Lower Manhattan. But the book’s attitude is a throwback to the 40s. Payton Sherwood says he’s wearing jeans and sneakers but the dialogue and narration tell the reader that these men are all in pinstripe suits and fedoras while the women have seams in their stockings. Everyone smokes, drinks and casts a long, dark, sinister shadow in grainy black and white.

Russell Atwood has created a wonderful narrator in Sherwood and Losers Live Longer will send most of its readers looking for the author’s first novel East of A which was written an entire decade ago. For the sake of everyone involved, the author needs steal another trick from the past and write faster. Crime fiction needs guys like him.

AMAZON READER RATING:	from x readers
PUBLISHER:	Hard Crime Case (August 25, 2009)
REVIEWER:	Daniel Luft
AMAZON PAGE:	Loser’s Live Longer
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Russell Atwood 1999 website for Russell Atwood
EXTRAS:	Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	Read a review of …Dead I Well May Be by Adrian McKinty Songs of Innocence by Richard Aleas Dead Street by Mickey Spillane Fade to Blonde by Max Phillips And newest of the bunch: Huge by James W. Fuerst

Bibliography:

• East of A (1999)
• Losers Live Longer (August 2009)

“As an LAPD cop, I’d dealt with rich Hollywood dudes, bullies who when oily charm wouldn’t cut it resorted to threats and insults. I’d encouraged the broken and the badly bent, ready to eat the gun but for the fear of what that might do to the face, and I’d run up against the smarmy morons who hit the jackpot with the eighth remake of a comic book, and so equated money with brains and arrogance with charisma, and I’d seen the beautiful young women in their fuck-me high heels who encouraged the morons in their delusions.”

Book Review:

Reviewed by Guy Savage (JUN 29, 2009)

I love it when authors just seem to get better and better, and this is certainly the case with Anne Argula’s third novel, Krapp’s Last Cassette. But to be honest, it’s hardly this author’s third book. Anne Argula is the pen name adopted by veteran author Darryl Ponicsan who wrote The Last Detail back in 1971. But that said, this is Ponicsan’s third novel writing as Anne Argula, and it’s the best so far.

Homicide My Own introduced menopausal Spokane detective Quinn, and the second novel, Walla Walla Suite finds Quinn divorced and working as a PI in Seattle. Quinn is an engaging protagonist; intelligent, cynical and tough, she scrapes a living while thinking about rebuilding her personal life.

In Krapp’s Last Cassette, Quinn is hired by a wealthy Hollywood screenwriter, Alex Krapp. It seems that Krapp has written a screenplay for HBO based on the best-selling memoir of a fifteen-year-old kid named Danny. The memoir details how Danny suffered hideous sexual abuse at the hands of his sicko, middle-class parents, how he was used by a ring of pedophiles, and how he finally managed to run away and seek help. But while the book is a bestseller, there will be no happy ending for Danny as he is dying of AIDS. Krapp’s problem is that he must authenticate the boy’s existence for HBO, but Danny only communicates via phone–supposedly for safety reasons. Although Krapp has never seen Danny, over the course of their relationship, he’s developed a strong attachment to the boy, and he’s collected cassette tapes of all of their conversations.

Frankly Danny’s story stinks. It’s not just that the story hits every emotionally manipulative button I can think of, but the circumstances of Danny’s seclusion just don’t make sense. Danny, supposedly, is being cared for by a dedicated suicide hot line volunteer named Celeste, and an AIDS afflicted doctor named Vic. Even while Krapp tells Danny’s emotionally charged story (and I could almost hear the Rocky theme song in the background), Quinn begins to smell a rat. Quinn and I were on the same page for this one; the story smacks of soap opera fiction at every twist and turn.

Quinn, who is attracted to Krapp, takes the assignment and goes back to Seattle to hunt for Danny. Since Danny is supposedly whisked to hospital with alarming regularity, Quinn thinks it shouldn’t be too difficult to find Danny or his reclusive keepers. But Quinn discovers very quickly that key points to the story can’t be confirmed, and to complicate matters, some of the stories of Danny’s abuse are uncannily similar to the story of Randy Merck who made an ignoble appearance in Walla Walla Suite. Quinn finds herself doing something she never imagined doing–visiting Merck in prison, and just as everything seems unfathomable, the situation gets worse.

Krapp’s Last Cassette is much more than a mystery. The novel also explores the pathological, delusional lengths humans will go to in order to continue to believe in the implausible, and while Quinn may not fall for the Disney/tooth fairy option, she is vulnerable when it comes to stories about omnipotent evil-doers. Quinn is a marvelous character—unemotional, as tough as nails, and with a sense of humour to boot. Roll on number four….

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 3 readers
PUBLISHER:	Ballantine Books (March 24, 2009)
REVIEWER:	Guy Savage
AMAZON PAGE:	Krapp’s Last Cassette
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Fan Site for Anne Argula
EXTRAS:	Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	Read a review of Walla Walla Suite

Bibliography:

• Homicide My Own (March 2005)
• Walla Walla Suite (A Room With No View) (September 2007)
• Krapp’s Last Cassette (March 2009)

“But a man cannot be too careful in his choice of enemies, as Oscar Wilde pointed out.”

Book Review:

Reviewed by Guy Savage (MAY 15, 2009)

Mon Dieu! Elegant Parisian PI, Aimee Leduc, owner of Leduc Detective Agency is back for Murder in the Rue de Paradis, the eighth mystery from author Cara Black. It’s August 1995, and to Parisians, that means it’s vacation time and everyone who can leave the city departs from the dust and heat for friendlier climes. Aimee, however, isn’t taking a vacation. She’s just landed a big contract, and feeling pleased with herself, she heads back from her late business meeting. On her way home, out of the blue, Aimee’s former lover, investigative journalist Yves Robert shows up without explanation. It’s been a long time since Aimee last saw him, and although Aimee’s been ignoring his e-mails, Yves expects to pick up the relationship where he left off. Now he wants to “try again,” and Aimee, ever a sucker for the “bad-boy type” falls into bed with Yves and is floored when he proposes marriage and apparently craves the whole domestic life thing. Incroyable!

The next morning Aimee wakes up to find Yves gone. A love-‘em-and-leave-‘em scenario rapidly turns into a murder mystery when Yves’s corpse shows up with his throat cut from ear-to-ear, and police tell Aimee that her lover is reportedly the victim of a transvestite prostitute. Given the evening they just spent together, Aimee isn’t about to swallow the party line on Yves’s death, and so she begins to investigate….

Curiouser and curioser, the suspect dies in police custody and before you can say “Quelle Horreur” Aimee is knee deep in Kurdish nationalists, Turkish fighters, an Iranian hit woman. The mystery is set in a nervous Paris reeling from a metro bombing, protests and political assassinations.

San Francisco based author Cara Black must be a Francophile, and this shows from the intricate descriptions of the Parisian settings to the text which is sprinkled with French phrases on almost every page. For PI mysteries with an ultra-femme touch (there are loads of details of Aimee’s outfits–down to her 3 inch heels), then fellow Francophiles may want to explore this mystery series designed with a light, femme, chick-lit touch which steers far away from dark, hard-boiled noir.

AUTHOR WEBSITE:Cara Black

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 16 readers
PUBLISHER:	Soho Crime (March 1, 2009)
REVIEWER:	Guy Savage
AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE BOOK?	YES! Start Reading Now!
EXTRAS:	Olivia Boler’s review and Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	For an extended stay in France, try: Chez Moi by Agnes Desarthe Caravaggio’s Angel by Ruth Brandon

Bibliography:

• Murder in Marais (1999)
• Murder in Belleville (2000)
• Murder in Sentier (2002)
• Murder in Bastille (2003)
• Murder in Clichy (2005)
• Murder in Montmarte (2006)
• Murder in the Ile Saint-Louis (2007)
• Murder in the Rue de Paradis (2008)
• Murder in the Latin Quarter (2009)
• Murder in the Palais Royal (2010)
• Murder in the Passy (2011)
• Murder at the Lanterne Rouge (2012)

“What Potts hated mainly, though, was that you were forced to pretend people knew what they were doing when they clearly didn’t. You look out the window at the faces hurtling past and they give you no reason for hope. Whizzing past goes a collection of drunks, hormonal teenagers, housewives fighting with their kids, hypertense execs screaming into cell phones, the ancient, the half blind, the losers with no reason to keep living, the sleep deprived but amphetamine-amped truck drivers swinging a gazillion-tonned rig of toilet supplies. Faces out of some goddamned horror movie. One false move and everybody dies.” 

Book Review:

Reviewed by Guy Savage (MAY 02, 2009)

Loser’s Town is the first novel from Daniel Depp and the first in a series of David Spandau mysteries. Now I am going to get the nauseating stuff over with first: yes, Daniel DEPP is the half brother of Johnny Depp, and according to some internet sites, there are some unpleasant assumptions that having a famous sibling carries clout in the publishing world. When it comes to carving out accomplishments in the world, it must be a pain in the arse to have a phenomenally famous sibling.

Daniel Depp is a producer and screenwriter. Don’t ask me what he’s done because I have no idea, so let’s talk about the novel, Loser’s Town, which has a terrific sense of place. Depp seems to know Hollywood, and Loser’s Town is at its dingy best when the author tackles the sordid underbelly of those stinking rich celebrities and their decadent lifestyles.

The novel begins with two bizarre, none-too-bright characters named Potts and Squiers driving to an address on Wonderland Avenue. For anyone who knows anything about Hollywood, the destination is enough to give you chills, and of course, the novel does not disappoint on this score. As Potts and Squiers drive to Wonderland Avenue, we sense that their mysterious mission has some connection with an ugly crime, and a feeling of dread builds. The author cleverly manages to blend the build-up with a subtle black sense of humour as a hostile, surreal conversation between Potts and Squiers takes place:

“Squiers saying that word, perished, really irritated the hell out of Potts. He was lying, he’d heard it somewhere on the news, and the newscaster had said perished. Squiers didn’t even know what it meant, where the hell would he get off using a word like that. Potts decided to nail him on it.”

With a very strong beginning, the novel then introduces David Spandau, the novel’s protagonist. Spandau is a former stunt man, and depending on who you talk to, Spandau is either a has-been or smart enough to get out of the stunt biz and morph into a private detective. Spandau works for Coren Investigations, an agency that specializes in protecting the glittering lives of annoying celebrities. In Loser’s Town, Spandau is contacted by a particularly petulant star, Bobby Dye, who’s about to break into superstar status with his latest film.

Bobby Dye is an impossible client. He’s temperamental, egotistical, and what’s more important, he’s being blackmailed, and this is where Spandau fits in….

Loser’s Town is at its best when describing the tawdriness of Hollywood. Here Hollywood is presented as the Tinsel Town with cheap glitter covering some rather ugly, vicious people–people whose values gravitate around the clothes they wear and who they sleep with. There are some great characters here–including Pookie, the agency’s secretary who “believed in spiritual redemption through clothing.” Since this is the first in a series of detective novels, the narrative also includes details about Spandau’s personal life. This brings us to Spandau’s ex-wife Dee and the horse ranch. These parts of the novel are the weakest sections even though they may act as a balance–an antidote if you prefer–to the nasty side of Hollywood. Somehow these sections did not seem so authentic and jarred with the novel’s overall atmosphere. Just think of the contrast as hanging out in a strip joint all day and then popping into Disneyland for lunch and you will get the idea. Give me the lowlifes in the Voodoo Lounge anytime. Still, in spite of this minor flaw, I think noir fans have a new name to look for: Daniel Depp and his Spandau series.

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 31 reviewers
PUBLISHER:	Simon & Schuster; First Edition edition (March 3, 2009)
REVIEWER:	Guy Savage
AMAZON PAGE:	Loser’s Town : A David Spandau Novel
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Daniel Depp
EXTRAS:	Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	no

Bibliography:

• Loser’s Town
• Babylon Night (August 2010)