Here are two new books that I would recommend even if they weren’t written by good buddies of mine. You can trust me because my taste in fiction is excellent.

First up is Hogdoggin’ by Anthony Neil Smith. A continuation of the adventures of Billy Lafitte. Man, but that guy has got a lot of blood inside of him. Neil takes no prisoners and he’s onto something with these Lafitte books. He is also onto something with his home-cooked gumbo. For sample flavorings, catch up with the virtual biker rally now underway at Crimedog One.

Next is a book that’s as good as free, if you own a Kindle. I’m talking about The Grove by John Rector. I blurbed this book because it is awesome, and I think John is effing crazy for giving it away like this. But he is headstrong and will not see reason. He hits 5-wood out of tall grass. All you Kindle people now reap the benefits of his sad lunacy. Go forth.

 Thanks to all who cast votes and offered advice, both in the comments and via e-mail, regarding last week’s raccoon situation, clearly an emotionally charged issue involving many complicated considerations.

As it is, our friend the raccoon, halt and afflicted though he was, is now nowhere to be found. Which leads me to believe that:

a) He’s moved on,
b) He’s waiting in one of the other outbuildings to murder us,
c) We’ve got wolves.

More news as it develops.

Fellow James Lee Burke fans will recognize the reference and possible symbolism (as yet unanalyzed) now beneath, and indeed at the door of, my fair-weather writing area. The comments are open and your votes regarding Tripod Jr’s fate are encouraged.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-PRIJPR0kw

After almost a month wandering the streets, Safer has received some very nice reviews in some very nice reviewing places, including People magazine (”a smart, funny, powerfully suspenseful thriller”), The New York Times (”cleverly articulates the vulnerability of a close-knit community”), and The Washington Post (”an enthralling and unsettling story”). Pay no attention to the thankful writer trembling with relief in the corner.

Elsewhere, both Details magazine and the South Florida Sun-Sentinel’s own Oline Cogdill have suggested that the book’s protaganist, poor Paul Callaway, would have paid green money for Jack Reacher’s help through his ordeal. No such luck for Paul.

Marshal Zeringue invited the book to face his withering Page 69 test.

And a number of other newspapers and blogs also have said extremely nice things, for which I’m extremely grateful, especially in this age of rapidly-shrinking review space, and I will soon get to work updating the book’s home page with all the choice self-glorifying pull quotes anybody can stand.

Meanwhile, I’ve got my eye on you, Cleveland Plain Dealer.

Well, here we are:  February 24, Fat Tuesday, and, coincidentally, “on-sale-now” day for my fifth book.

As excited and grateful as I am to have been given the opportunity to publish my work over the past several years, I’ve never been the type to get overly anxious and sweaty over the specific date of publication for a book. So much happens before that date, and we hope for so much to happen after, that the day itself sometimes feels almost. . .I don’t want to say anticlimactic, but, well, sometimes, an awful like like any other Tuesday.

But I’ll be honest:  this one feels different. Maybe it’s because it’s been a couple of years since I had a new book. Maybe it’s because this is my first hardcover in the big leagues, and hopes run high. Maybe it’s a combination of these things, with who knows what else, both practical and sentimental, mixed in.

All I know is, I worked hard on this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Okay, let’s be honest:  I hope you love it and tell all your friends about it and together we stimulate the economy back to roaring good health $24 at a time. But one must maintain a decorum.

How to spend the next seven minutes of your life? If for some reason you’re out of ideas, you can listen to me yap about my new book right here.

Newly-minted Edgar Award nominee Tom Piccirilli asked me some questions and posted the answers in this interview over here. I’ve been consuming enjoying the rest of his interviews over the past couple days myself. Good stuff, crime fans.

Today my publisher launched this new site for suspense fans one and all. If you go there, you can read the first five chapters of Safer at absolutely no cost obligation. Offer good while supplies last.

Meanwhile, a belated but hearty Happy New Year to all. Here’s to good things for everybody in the aught nine. . . .

As so often happens after the death of a celebrated author, it’s become somewhat fashionable in literary circles to memorialize the legendary writer Emerson LaSalle, who passed away suddenly–under circumstances befitting one of his own “pulp”-style adventure stories– around this time last year.

Everybody, it seems, has a LaSalle story. Countless websites and blog posts have cropped up, and at this point, it’s become almost impossible to separate the true tales from the apocrypha (which, I imagine, is just how LaSalle himself would have wanted it).

Anyway. In my opinion, the best of these can be found here. I’m not a scholar, just a fan, and as such I’m definitely interested to hear more about this posthumous Atomic Bob trilogy.

I try to be sociable, but each year that passes, I find it harder and harder to gear up for certain things. For example–and this pains me a little, as I’ve always held a special place for Halloween–adult costume parties seem to have drifted well beyond the grasp of my enthusiasm these days.

Tonight my wife involved us in a costume party/fund raiser for a professional organization to which she belongs. Moping on the inside, I sucked it up for the team and played along. As I might have trusted, we had a lot of fun together.

But I was left feeling astonished and old by the number of 20-something professionals who needed us to explain our costume to them. In fact, I am moved to attempt this public experiment:

The following items are components of the last-minute Halloween costume my wife and I assembled:

Me: Drab gray dress, gray wig in a bun, butcher’s knife
Her: Blood-spattered shower curtain (plus shower cap for visual aid)

With no further hintage, can anybody tell me what we meant to portray?

Restore my faith, dear people of the Internet,

SD