Very disjointed story, hard to keep up with all the side stories going on
Maybe for a first book in a series it has to get in all the information about the main people that will be in every book, but I found it very distracting trying to get to the main storyline and keep up with it because it has so many side stories being told about all the people
I'll try another one
Maybe for a first book in a series it has to get in all the information about the main people that will be in every book, but I found it very distracting trying to get to the main storyline and keep up with it because it has so many side stories being told about all the people
I'll try another one
I came to Brad Parks' Carter Ross series by reading the third book first. I enjoyed it so much that I immediately got my hands on the first two books and have also purchased books four and five. It just took me way too long to get back to reading this series, which is a perfect blend of humor and deadly seriousness.
That perfect blend begins with Carter Ross himself. He's a man with good instincts for the telling detail. It also doesn't hurt that he's compassionate and a five-star smart aleck. (Insert a different-- four-letter-- "a" word for the aleck.) He's also surrounded by a wonderful supporting cast: Szanto, the boss that only speaks in consonants (much to the befuddlement of us all); Tommy the gay Cuban intern; city editor Tina Thompson, whose biological clock is ticking so loudly it will deafen you. And these three are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the supporting cast.
I knew I was firmly in Carter's corner when he automatically did something that the media and so many others weren't doing: he humanized the deceased. This guy isn't just doing a job; he truly cares. Not only can Brad Parks fascinate you with the inner workings of a newsroom, he can make you laugh out loud with what Carter does to get information from a dangerous gang, and then he goes and tugs on your heartstrings. No wonder Faces of the Gone won multiple awards.
It better not be another three years before I read the second book in this series. I enjoy Parks' writing too much!
That perfect blend begins with Carter Ross himself. He's a man with good instincts for the telling detail. It also doesn't hurt that he's compassionate and a five-star smart aleck. (Insert a different-- four-letter-- "a" word for the aleck.) He's also surrounded by a wonderful supporting cast: Szanto, the boss that only speaks in consonants (much to the befuddlement of us all); Tommy the gay Cuban intern; city editor Tina Thompson, whose biological clock is ticking so loudly it will deafen you. And these three are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the supporting cast.
I knew I was firmly in Carter's corner when he automatically did something that the media and so many others weren't doing: he humanized the deceased. This guy isn't just doing a job; he truly cares. Not only can Brad Parks fascinate you with the inner workings of a newsroom, he can make you laugh out loud with what Carter does to get information from a dangerous gang, and then he goes and tugs on your heartstrings. No wonder Faces of the Gone won multiple awards.
It better not be another three years before I read the second book in this series. I enjoy Parks' writing too much!
This book was considered for an Edgar Award -- as a first novel. Very good read and the author is working on a second book in the series.
Carter Ross is the hero of this tale of a reporter who breaks the mystery of who killed four people and left their bodies in a vacant lot, where they'd be sure to be found the next day.
Carter is a bit unusual as a hero figure. He is not impressive physically. He is described thus in one scene: There was no real meat hanging on his shoulders, no thickness in the chest or arms that might suggest he was dangerous. He looked like any one of those yuppies who spend time in the gym strictly for vanity, doing arm curls to get a small bulge in their biceps, with their only goal to look good in a tight T-shirt...
The less said about his repulsive boss, the better. Although I must say, he demonstrates that Carter Ross has too many R's in his name.
The mystery begins when as I said, four bodies are found in a lot in easy walking distance from all the major housing projects in the city of Newark. Only the names of the victims are released, since the police can only speculate that the crime is related to a stickup job.
Carter begins probing and soon finds that the common denominator is that all the victims dealt in drugs, at least part-time. Now, that is not much of a scoop in itself, since you could say the same about millions of other Americans.
But eventually it turns out that they dealt in a particular brand of heroin called The Stuff original brand name, hey? Its primary trait is that it is a purer commodity by far than the usual street drug.
When the story hits the papers, the bombs really start to fly. Four buildings are hit in one night, with the damage including the complete demolition of Carter's home and the presumed loss of his cat, Deadline. Bylines are a double-edged sword, that way.
And eventually the identity of the Mr. Big behind the marketing and distribution genius of The Stuff is revealed in the final pages, with our hero making a narrow and suitably thrilling escape. No car crashes, tho just so you know. This tale is a wee bit more cerebral and satirical than the usual fare.
And funny, with more hilarious situations and dialogue than you could find outside of a Stephanie Plum mystery. Did I tell you about the part where he and a confederate tricked a distributor into revealing more details of The Stuff's operation, who its recruiter was, and more about Mr. Big?? No? Oh, I gotta tell ya, siddown and don't drink anything or you'll get the computer screen all wet . . . Y'see, it's more about using your gray matter than your muscles when it comes to getting information.
Carter is a bit unusual as a hero figure. He is not impressive physically. He is described thus in one scene: There was no real meat hanging on his shoulders, no thickness in the chest or arms that might suggest he was dangerous. He looked like any one of those yuppies who spend time in the gym strictly for vanity, doing arm curls to get a small bulge in their biceps, with their only goal to look good in a tight T-shirt...
The less said about his repulsive boss, the better. Although I must say, he demonstrates that Carter Ross has too many R's in his name.
The mystery begins when as I said, four bodies are found in a lot in easy walking distance from all the major housing projects in the city of Newark. Only the names of the victims are released, since the police can only speculate that the crime is related to a stickup job.
Carter begins probing and soon finds that the common denominator is that all the victims dealt in drugs, at least part-time. Now, that is not much of a scoop in itself, since you could say the same about millions of other Americans.
But eventually it turns out that they dealt in a particular brand of heroin called The Stuff original brand name, hey? Its primary trait is that it is a purer commodity by far than the usual street drug.
When the story hits the papers, the bombs really start to fly. Four buildings are hit in one night, with the damage including the complete demolition of Carter's home and the presumed loss of his cat, Deadline. Bylines are a double-edged sword, that way.
And eventually the identity of the Mr. Big behind the marketing and distribution genius of The Stuff is revealed in the final pages, with our hero making a narrow and suitably thrilling escape. No car crashes, tho just so you know. This tale is a wee bit more cerebral and satirical than the usual fare.
And funny, with more hilarious situations and dialogue than you could find outside of a Stephanie Plum mystery. Did I tell you about the part where he and a confederate tricked a distributor into revealing more details of The Stuff's operation, who its recruiter was, and more about Mr. Big?? No? Oh, I gotta tell ya, siddown and don't drink anything or you'll get the computer screen all wet . . . Y'see, it's more about using your gray matter than your muscles when it comes to getting information.
