I’m a sucker for boats. That’s my problem, I think.
Recently I’ve been reading a string of mystery/thrillers set in the coastal American south, most of them having boats on their covers. I like boats, and stories about boats. I really loved the sailing mysteries Bernard Cornwell wrote a long time ago, but apparently nobody else liked them. So he went on to historical epics, which I don’t like nearly as much. At least I don’t like his approach…
Where was I?
Oh yes, so the last book I reviewed was Wild Ocean by Tripp Ellis, and although the story didn’t shiver my timbers, I gave the series one more try with the second installment, Wild Justice.
I think that’s plenty.
Tyson Wild, hero of the series, former black-ops contractor now living in Coconut Key, Florida, is approached by the local sheriff, who’s short-handed. He wants Tyson and his buddy JD to help him investigate the murder of a reputed drug dealer. They agree, mostly for the fun, and in between juggling their various gorgeous girlfriends and intervening in JD’s drug-using daughter’s problems, they do this. An innocent woman gets killed in a horrible way, and a good deal of implausible heroics are indulged in.
I’ve had enough. Wild Justice is low grade male entertainment, comparable to a shallow-end romance novel for women. I don’t recommend it. Also, there are a lot of homonym errors, and an annoying tendency to end speculative sentences not phrased in the form of a question with question marks.