West of Mars\' Rocks \'n Reads

When author RJ McDonnell dropped me a note, I was more than thrilled to hear from him. I’d seen his name around in certain circles and since he writes about a dude who used to be in band, and since his first mystery, Rock and Roll Homicide, sounds right up my alley… yeah. Thrilled to hear from RJ.

The book wasn’t blessed with the sexiest title out there, but I love the cover shot of a Fender Strat that’s been splattered with blood. Even though the dead guy dies in the preface, and I doubt any residue would make such a lovely pattern on a white strat, it doesn’t matter. And if it did, there’s so much good stuff going on here that the cover art becomes something to smile at, not quibble over. It’s merely the top of a box of goodness.

I’m not sure where to start, really, other than to say I loved this tale. I loved the main character, Jason Duffy. I loved his quirky cast of mentally disabled people and helpmeets. I loved Duffy’s narrative voice; it has total character. I loved his dad and the veteran, grizzled cop and the computer geek dude who never wants to use his names.

Maybe we should back up. Our intrepid hero, Jason Duffy, hasn’t been in business very long when he gets a visit from the very wealthy Chelsea Tucker. It turns out it’s her husband’s brains that have been spattered across the aforementioned guitar — among other things. It seems her husband is the famous — but contentious — Terry Tucker, frontman and business genius behind Doberman’s Stub, a band rocketing to the top — and currently recording their third album. This is the one that’s going to push them up to that coveted peak. Everyone knows it.

That’s why Terry was killed, it turns out. He put on a pair of headphones (conveniently given to him by his wife. What a loving woman.) and … kablooey!

The wife needs Jason’s help to clear her name. And Jason dives right in, encountering the Russian Mafia, the Irish Mafia, Orangemen, half-naked women, photographers with Tourette’s Syndrome, and a whole laundry list of surprises and twists and turns that even a experienced knitter couldn’t unravel.

Needless to say, McDonnell pulls it off. Neatly, I might add. And with no small dose of humor — particularly the scene where Jason goes sneaking around a shower. Trust me. It’s the best scene in a good book.

Now, you know I can’t write a review without talking about the downers, and there were some, of course. I’ve yet to read a book without them.

In Rock and Roll Homicide, there are two big ones. First is that the cast of characters is huge. Quirky and well-drawn, sure. But it’s big. Big casts can get confusing, and alliteration never helps. Oh, I’m not talking about the way in which half the characters have Russian names. See above about the Russian mafia.

Rather, there are an awful lot of women whose names start with the letter J. A lot of people with the first initial of C.

It’s a shame, really. These characters are all given such delicious quirks and characters, and then to confuse us with the similar names… talk about torture.

The other issue is bigger. Like an increasing number of books of late, the editing could have been better. Not just punctuation, which I’m a stickler for after spending so many years as a copy editor. Sentences could have been tightened or rewritten for maximum reader impact. Frankly, I’d love to get my hands on future books from McDonnell and have a go at it. He’s got so many elements right. He’s got a great hero, with a great voice. And his rock? It rolls, baby. This guy knows his stuff, all right.

I’ve got McDonnell’s second book here, waiting for me to read it, too. Rock & Roll Rip-Off, it’s called. All I gotta say is that it’ll be a ripoff if there’s no third book in the works.

On the surface, I should not have liked Janet Fox’s debut novel, Faithful, as much as I did. Oh, there was a slam-dunk element to it, in that it’s mostly set in Yellowstone National Park, which is one of my absolute favorite places on Earth. Yes, I envied the character of Maggie, who gets to move there.

Yet I shouldn’t have liked the book as much as I did. That’s because there were too many elements of formula going on here.

Before I start dissecting the book, a quick summary is in order.

Sixteen-year-old Maggie is set to make her debut in Newport society. She’s been groomed for this and is even excited for the life ahead of her as a society wife. There’s something overshadowing the event though: a year previously, her mother had a public breakdown and then vanished. Presumed dead, although Maggie won’t let herself believe that her mother’s really gone.

Into the anticipation of Maggie’s debut comes word from her dad that he maybe has a lead. But … they have to travel to Yellowstone to follow it up. This is 1904; travel will take a few days — or more. This is no overnight trip. Maggie is in danger of missing her debut, but if she winds up bringing her mother home, won’t it be worth it? Once her mother returns, all will be set right. The people who’ve looked down their noses at Maggie since her mom’s breakdown will recant their positions.

It’s when we get to Yellowstone that Maggie’s dad drops the bomb: the lead isn’t real. He’s cancelled Maggie’s debut. And he’s flat broke.

In other words, Maggie’s life has just been turned upside down.

This is where the clichés begin to come in. Maggie sees a young man and it’s love at first sight. Dad has other ideas, though: ideas in the form of an elderly society man who holds in his hand the future for Maggie and her dad. The problem, of course, is that he’s rather malodorous, in many forms. Repellant, even.

Yet he can offer Maggie the life she thought she wanted. Except… being in Yellowstone and meeting a widow who has made a life for herself has made Maggie wonder about what it is she really wants. Is it the handsome Edward, who says he’ll come rescue Maggie.

Her grandparents are set to rescue Maggie as well — except it quickly becomes obvious to Maggie that they will support the marriage to the horrid man and not to Edward — let alone to cowboy Tom.

Like I said, there are very strong elements of formula here. In essence, we’ve read Maggie’s story before: betrothed to a man she doesn’t like but who can reinstate her and her father into the society they know, but in love with another man who can offer her … nothing.

Yet there are fresh twists, as well. Maggie’s father wasn’t only dishonest about the reason for their trip West, but exactly who they are searching for. And the entire story is overshadowed by Maggie’s longing for her mother.

Even more than the formulaic points, this plot point — while fresh — disappointed in that it never went anywhere. Maggie longed for her mother. She (probably mistakenly) believed that all would be right again if only Mama was found.

Okay, that’s fair. But as Maggie grows with her experiences out West, she needs to alter her perception of what she’s looking for from her mom. Mrs. Gale, the widow I mentioned, could have made a great mother figure, but was under-utilized as such.

Still, though, for these faults, I had a very hard time putting the book down. It was a fast, compelling read, and Maggie’s terror of heights lingered with me to the point that I had to put down an entirely different book and remember where it was I’d read a character with a very real fear of heights.

Sometimes, formula works. Even though I’d seen so many elements of this plot before — including in Diane Smith’s excellent Letters From Yellowstone — that didn’t matter until I stopped and thought about it. That right there makes this a great candidate for a beach read. And I do recommend it. Absolutely.

Just go along for the ride. And while you’re doing that, eat up that setting. Yellowstone. There is nowhere better.