

This is the second book I have read by underrated crime author Frank Bill. One aspect I particularly appreciate is his vivid descriptive style when depicting both his and his characters’ penchant for violence, often illustrating brutal, visceral scenes with stark clarity. Whether it be the way Bill calls cigarettes, “coffin nails,” threatening to blast a hole through a thug’s head with, “Don't make me open your thought process just yet,” pissing as “Fear flowed hot down his leg,” a rough bar night with “His teeth were a shattered windshield, scattered about his mouth in red-white shards,” or “…fluorescent lights hugged the loaded needle trespassing in Alejandro's vein,” Bill has his gritty trashed alley charm with words.
While I didn't enjoy this anthology-style story as much as Donnybrook, it still featured memorable moments and engaging scenes. For those curious, it shares some characters from Donnybrook, but prior familiarity with the original is not required to appreciate or understand this story fully.
This is the second book I have read by underrated crime author Frank Bill. One aspect I particularly appreciate is his vivid descriptive style when depicting both his and his characters’ penchant for violence, often illustrating brutal, visceral scenes with stark clarity. Whether it be the way Bill calls cigarettes, “coffin nails,” threatening to blast a hole through a thug’s head with, “Don't make me open your thought process just yet,” pissing as “Fear flowed hot down his leg,” a rough bar night with “His teeth were a shattered windshield, scattered about his mouth in red-white shards,” or “…fluorescent lights hugged the loaded needle trespassing in Alejandro's vein,” Bill has his gritty trashed alley charm with words.
While I didn't enjoy this anthology-style story as much as Donnybrook, it still featured memorable moments and engaging scenes. For those curious, it shares some characters from Donnybrook, but prior familiarity with the original is not required to appreciate or understand this story fully.