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."
This was described as "hilarious", and while it had much humor, "hilarious" would not be the word to pop in my little brain. I did enjoy it very much, and I think it could make a cute movie if handled correctly.
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Now he was king of jack shit in Mudsville, Louisiana. But he'd lived in worse places. The water was cool, and the alligators did what they were told, for the most part.
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Then Vern dropped his cargo pants, magicked his dragon tackle out of somewhere, and pissed all over Squib's arm.
Mostly his arm.
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If there was one thing the species could come together on, it was balls ache, and the desire to avoid same.
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[...] and a slice of lemon pie submerged in whipped cream fresh from the nozzle.