Column number five and what better way to mark this moment by reviewing three books that I’ve been wanting to read for a long time but kept putting off? This week, I’ve dug deep to bring you one really out-of-date thriller, an “erotic” mystery and just some really bad spy fiction that’s heavy on the sex. Now that I used the word “sex,” I know you’re anxious for me not to waste any more time…
SNARE ANDALUCIAN – Sometimes you have to learn the hard way that some books just don’t age that well. I’m not talking about plot or story, but slang and language used. Aaron Marc Stein’s SNARE ANDALUCIAN is filled with terms so very much of their time in 1968. All girls are referred to as “chicks,” guys are “cats” and the police are, of course, “fuzz.” But that’s not all the awful slang; I don’t think a paragraph went by without “dig” being dropped.
The basic plot is that Matt follows a “super chick” down the wrong alley, which gets him mixed up with some unsavory types, like a corrupt Spainard who is into blackmail and stolen identities. Matt, who is portrayed as some everyday buisnessman, comes off like James Bond-lite, and is thrown into all kinds of situations that would make certain spy thrillers jealous. If you have ever seen Alfred Hitchcock’s NORTH BY NORTHWEST, then you know the type of story, except without the mistaken-identity angle. Throughout SNARE, I was just amazed at how easily Matt finds the bad guys and bests them. This book is just not set in any kind of reality, except for that mystical kind you see in films like DIE HARD. On a whole, this book – if written today – would be one of those guilty pleasures you pick up in an airport. The cover promised so much, yet delivered so little.
KISS HER GOODBYE – From Wade Miller, author of the great Hard Case Crime release BRANDED WOMAN, comes 1956’s KISS HER GOODBYE. Yes, folks, it’s another case of two authors operating under one fictitious name. This is a tale of a brother-sister relationship with a small dash of crime thrown in.
The best way to describe this tale is to imagine Scarlett Johansson with the mind of a 10-year-old, and that pretty much sums up Emily Darnell, the sister half of the duo – a girl who is incredibly attractive to all that see her, but can’t comprehend what men want from her. When she is touched in the wrong type of way, she gets extremely violent, like taking a rake to a boy’s neck or stabbing her principal in the hand with scissors. Yeah, that’s the kind of sister Ed Darnell has to take care of: a real bundle of fun.
Ed and Emily have been moving from town to town over the last five years, before settling into Jimmock at an old auto court that’s seen better days. Ed is extremely protective of Emily to the point that she is pretty much confined to her room. As he goes job hunting in town, he gets hired by a distribution company by a seemingly nice man by the name of Cory. Ed thinks things are going great, ’til the day Cory meets Emily and becomes smitten with her.
Things don’t work out for the brother and sister in this novel, but the real problem is it just did not age well at all. I saw the ending coming a mile away. Hell, the cover gives away a huge plot point! But don’t get me wrong: I really liked the book and, for its time, at least, it’s a bit shocking. If you can find a cheap copy, grab it, and you can pass the time with this while on the beach. Just don’t expect the twists that BRANDED WOMAN provided.
THE MAN FROM S.T.U.D. IN THE ORGY AT MADAME DRACULA’S – First, let me state this review is for adults only. I’m not going to get graphic, but just be forewarned. For lack of better terms, F.W. Paul’s 1968 quickie THE MAN FROM S.T.U.D. IN THE ORGY AT MADAME DRACULA’S is just sub-par porn with some really awful jokes and characters thrown in for no reason. It starts with Brett Steele – the titular MAN FROM S.T.U.D. (that stands for Special Territories and Unique Developments) – giving a task to deliver a voucher to one Bram Stroker. Yeah, Stroker.
Over the course of this book, Brett pretty much sleeps with all the women in it, from the Upper West Side of Manhattan to the castles of Transylvania. It actually seemed that a chapter did not go by without a mention of his “prong” or where it was going to be stuck. One of the new things the vampires did in this book instead of biting the neck is bite in the lower regions, for both men and women. Brett meets a vampire by the name of Placenta (!) who sets him off on this chase for Stroker, who needs to sign a voucher for a million dollars from some sort of mutual fund.
The book goes on like this for another few chapters. No real spy stuff ever really happens, except this guy gets laid more than Bond and Nick Carter combined. We find out that Bram is supposed to be at the Black Sea, but is actually dead the whole time. Placenta just wants Brett to sign over the money, strapping him to a giant clock that’ll give him a shock he’ll never be able to live through once it strikes a certain time. He escapes by blowing out every fuse in the castle. I mean, for what type of book this is, what can one expect but some pithy writing? If you want this type of story, pick up a MAN FROM O.R.G.Y. book; at least they have cooler covers.
Up next week: Five – count ‘em, five! – different spies! –Bruce Grossman
MISS ANY EARLIER INSTALLMENTS OF ‘BULLETS, BROADS, BLACKMAIL & BOMBS’? REGASM THESE:
• #4: A Rabbi, a Priest, a Pusher, a Queen
• #3: Smells Like Hi-Karate
• #2: My Name Is Erle
• #1: Debut
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