Skink, #8. Published in 2020, this story is about a bunch of Burmese Pythons, a U.S. President who uses a tanning booth maybe too much. His wife, who is sympathetically portrayed. A woman snake catcher. Assorted Secret Service types. And Skink.
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Looking back Uric would admit they should have dealt with the dead python before getting trashed at the titty bar.
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The average age of the surviving Potussies was 71.3 years [...] -- Hey, that's not old!!!
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It was the third dead body he'd found while fishing, but such was the reality of a childhood spent outdoors in Florida.
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"Calm down," she said. "You're putting your underwear on backward."
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"I've gotta go stock up on Purina," she said.
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"He'll be back," Dottie Mars interjected fervently. "Bigger and badder than ever." -- And he sure was, wasn't he!!!
Co-author Bill Montalbano. Published in 1981. Black Lizard, #1. Architect Chris Matthews takes on the Miami cocaine organizations. Pretty good. Didn't realize until I finished that it was published so long ago!
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"Bitch!" the young man screamed. "Cheating bitch. I hope he bites it off." [...]
Ah, to be young and in love, Meadows thought.
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"Fuck off, whitey," Arthur said. "How about some chess later?"
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"Greed," Appel said. "The money is beyond imagination, probably even more than doctors and architects make."
Alex Benedict, #2. The crew and passengers mysteriously disappears from a space yacht that had journeyed to see the star Delta Karpis collide with a dwarf. Many years (a hundred?) later Alex and Chase get involved in finding out what happened. And why does someone not want them to?
The scene where the house AI was disabled while burglars searched the house, stealing some not-all-that valuable stuff, which was later dumped in a river; well, it seems very familiar. Like I read it recently in another book by this author? I'll have to look around and see.
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The author never settled for a single adjective where two or three could be levered in.
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Scramblers could, of course, be manufactured to resemble comm links or compacts or virtually any other kind of metal object. But my philosophy is that if someone has a weapon pointed at him, he should know about it.
Andrew Yancy #2. Looks like I read #1 back in 2013! Don't even remember it. Andrew gets mixed up with a woman whose job is ramming cars hitmen or kidnappers or something. Also, mafia, a reality show, giant rats, and I don't know what all!
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What on earth did she mean by "protocol"?
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"What did you say, Pablo?"
"Estan grandes pendejos," the driver repeated cordially.
"What? Talk American, goddamit."
The driver, who of course spoke perfect English, said, "Where to now, gentlemen?"
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tank suit -- I looked it up, but still not sure what it looks like.
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"No offense, Deborah, but my arm's falling asleep."
Alex Benedict #1. I read #9 and wasn't all THAT enthused, but this one grabbed me a bit more.
Although I had trouble following the plot a bit, because, me.
I think I shall try #2.
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The man who had overslept, missed the shuttle, and thereby missed the flight, mentioned his appreciation to an Almighty who, apparently, was less indulgent to the twenty-six hundred others.
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The man who had overslept, missed the shuttle, and thereby missed the flight, mentioned his appreciation to an Almighty who, apparently, was less indulgent to the twenty-six hundred others.
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In case you haven't heard, he said, Gabe was on the Capella. I'm sorry. -- This is confusing if one has read book nine first!
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"You play chess, Alex?" [...]But I was never good at the game.
Redfield's features softened, as though he had recognized the presence of a social disability.
Alex Benedict, #9. Not-an-archeologist in space! An interesting read, but I'm not getting too excited here. Possibly the AIs are my favorite characters!
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She ordered toast and grapes from the generator.
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"It's my library card," she said. "It should be more than sufficient to prove that you found us."