Synopsis

Gina Marie Cototi is a feisty Sicilian sparkplug, a Brooklyn-based PI with a fondness for family, friends, and one roguishly handsome Casanova named Rocco Benelli. Hey, nobody’s perfect.

This headstrong sleuth drives a split-window ’63 Corvette coupe and never, I mean never, misses Sunday dinner with Ma, Dad, and her sister Theresa.

Broke, brooding, and breathtaking, Benelli, an out-of-work parole officer is cursed with more charm than any man deserves. Deep down, Gina knows she shouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole, but she’s got more cases than she can handle, and Benelli’s ready, willing, and able-bodied, the perfect partner to help her get the goods on Vlad “The Scud” Rzhevsky, a disreputable boxer running point on dirty deeds for Luca Mura, a mobster as evil as he is dangerous.

Gina must somehow close the case without losing her life to Mura or her virtue to Benelli, but a moth working alongside a flame is always in danger of catching fire.

For fans of Janet Evanovich. Think of Man-Killer as Stephanie Plum meets Moonstruck.

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Review

This book was quite a surprise. It was action-packed, funny, and had some over-the-top characters. I might admit that I read this book with a New York accent in my head. I think that made it more authentic.

I really liked Gina’s character. She is smart, modest, and tries to stay above the law, especially since her father is a retired police detective. Rocco was (and still is) a lady’s man with many conquests to his name. I think he has something for Gina, but she isn’t giving in to him despite wanting him. These two pair up to help her clear some of the insurance fraud investigations she has on her plate. Rocco is out of work and agrees to give her a hand for a hefty fee…in advance. Despite the plan to work on different cases, they cross paths when the family classic Corvette is stolen from the front yard. This event sends the pair down some shady and questionable paths.

I haven’t even mentioned Gina’s sister, Theresa. She is an over-the-top character. She is probably my least favorite character because I couldn’t relate to her at all, and she lacked some redeeming qualities other than being a devoted older sister. She is a good woman, just a bit too much for my tastes. But despite that, she isn’t afraid to jump in and help Gina out whenever possible.

I am unsure if this will be a series, but I think it should be. There are so many possibilities for Gina, Rocco, and the rest of the gang.

Overall, I give this 4 paws up.

Excerpt

Sitting at the café table with my back to the door I could feel my excitement building. Rocco’s scent sailed in on a breeze as he walked through the door, the unmistakable fragrance of his aftershave, his shampoo, and his musk, a perfect storm of sensory eroticism as evocative as hickory burning in the fireplace on a bitter and snowy night. He was well behind me and out of sight but I was sure it was him. The back of my neck tingled with the dance of a thousand rising hairs as his image took shape in my mind. I could picture his swagger as he came toward me—the slapping of his leather boots on the café’s oak floor, the rising and settling of his broad chest. Heart thumping, I reached for my coffee and knocked over the paper cup. A pool of rich brown awkwardness spread across the table before me. I caught my reflection in the liquid and thought, klutz!

I jumped out of my chair and right into his brawny arms. Somehow, I managed to suppress one hell of a telltale gasp, an I’m-swept-away gasp.

“Hey, Gina Marie, are you all right?” he asked in his throaty baritone, a voice that made me vibrate like a pitchfork all the way down to the tips of my toes.

His breath carried the mystery of every woman he’d ever been with, titillating and taunting me. “Hey, biyatch, we kissed Rocco,” they trilled, “mouth-to-mouth, tongue-to-tongue. Suck it!”

I couldn’t think of a thing to say to him while I stood there, dumbstruck, gawking at the iron of his stubble-clad chin and the fathomless depth of his brown eyes that matched the hue of his wavy ringlets. Time stood still while I was in his arms. I felt safe and protected. I kid you not, the man’s embrace was as enveloping as a fucking womb.

Hey, Gina Marie Cototi, snap out of it!  Get your head out of your ass. Slamming my open palm into the center of his chest, I shoved him away. “Getting a little handsy this morning, Rocco?”

Palms out, he backed away. “Whoa, easy, Gina. I was just trying to help.”

I felt my armor shoring up, the interlocking of a trillion nanobots erecting an impenetrable shield around me. “Yeah, right—you mean helping yourself to an early morning grope is more like it.” Meanwhile, coffee was dripping off the edge of the table, running down my leg, and puddling at the bottom of my left boot. The sticky liquid squished between my toes. Yuck.

About the Author

Lawrence Kelter hails from New York but now calls North Carolina his home. He is the bestselling author of more than twenty-five mystery and thriller novels including the Stephanie Chalice Mystery Series that has topped bestseller lists in the US, UK, and Australia. In 2017 he penned BACK TO BROOKLYN, the studio-authorized sequel to the cult comedy classic “My Cousin Vinny.”

Early in his writing career, he received direction from literary icon, Nelson DeMille, who edited portions of his early work. Well before he said, “Lawrence Kelter is an exciting new novelist, who reminds me of an early Robert Ludlum,” he said, “Kid, your work needs editing, but that’s a hell of a lot better than not having talent. Keep it up!”

His novels are quickly paced and crammed full of twists, turns, and laughs.

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