Framing the Dialogue

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Death Do Us Part

“No, I didn’t think about the dog.  It hadn’t hit me yet that taking on a big dog like Ruby was a major, life-changing responsibility.  I still felt grateful to my old buddy Frank for remembering what a good friend I’d always been.  When I murdered Frank, I never dreamed he’d leave Ruby to me.  Who’d believe he’d help me out by making me look like such a good guy?  I mean, you don’t leave your precious dog to the guy who murdered you – do you?”

Trent’s Last Case – The Woman in Black

Originally published over a hundred years ago, Trent’s Last Case brings newspaperman (I cannot remember his first name) Trent to a small town where a very famous person has died; no he was murdered.  Mr. Trent has been dispatched by his publisher to try and solve the case.  You see Trent has been remarkably good at solving crimes.

“You have come down to write about the murder.” “That is rather a colorless way of stating it,” Trent replied, as he dissected a sole. “I should prefer to put it that I have come down in the character of avenger of blood, to hunt down the guilty and vindicate the honor of society. That is my line of business.”

The Golden Age of Murder

“Even in a book of this length, it is impossible to explore in detail every issue touched on in the text. The notes provided at the end of each chapter, inevitably selective, seek to amplify some facets of the story of the Golden Age and its exponents, and to encourage further reading, research – and enjoyment.”

The Alchemist

In Paulo Coelho’s fable, The Alchemist, we follow the life of a poor shepherd boy, Santiago, who wants to travel beyond his world.  His first step was to become a shepherd and thus travel with his sheep beyond what his parents have done.  This seems okay until he meets an old man who fills him with both the courage and yearning to expand his boundaries.  Santiago’s journey becomes our journey as this story we can learn a lot about life, decisions, and indecision.

“What’s the world’s greatest lie?’ the boy asked, completely surprised. ‘It’s this: that at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what’s happening to us, and our lives become controlled by fate.”

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove

“Jenny went off to the kitchen, trying to put the morning together in her mind, pieces of conversations as surreal as a Dali jigsaw puzzle.  There was definitely something going on in Pine Cove.”

In his second novel in the Pine Cove series, author Christopher Moore brings us back to the lovely, quaint, summer, tourist town of Pine Cove, California.  There is not much connection with the first in the series other than a few of the characters as they enter the post-tourist season.

Death Ship

“Elation flooded his mind. He shivered as he went over the timing for the thousandth time. This would be a great triumph for Islam, maybe one of the greatest victories in over five hundred years. Surely, it would make the attack on the Twin Towers in New York seem like nothing.”

In Death Ship, author Joseph Badal brings together three generations Danforth’s to try to stop a very serious terrorist plot.  While this family is from the United States, the terror plot has a Mediterranean slant.  The senior Danforth is x-CIA, the son is a high ranking Special Forces, and the grandson is a teenager.  Efforts are further hampered by ambitious and corrupt politicians at the highest level of American government.  You’ll learn to hate politicians even more…not sure that’s possible.

The Day That Never Comes

The Day That Never Comes by Caimh McDonnell is the second in the Dublin “Trilogy”.  I use quotes as there is actually a fourth book in the “trilogy”.  No matter as I’ve like them all so far.  In this novel Brigit and Paul are back and things are strained between them.  That’s a very big deal as they have started a business together with Bunny…and he’s missing so their first case is to find Bunny.

A Man With One Of Those Faces

“There was nothing special about his face – just the opposite in fact – it was entirely ordinary, as was the rest of him. Five foot nine, blue eyes, brown hair. His sheer ordinariness was the whole point. He was a medium everything; his features were the most common in every category. He had nothing that came close to qualifying as a distinguishing anything. His every facial attribute was a masterpiece of bloody-minded unoriginality, an aesthetic tribute to the forgettably average. Collectively they formed an orchestra designed to produce the facial muzak of the Gods.”