i'm so thrilled that i discovered Charles Willeford and the Hoke Mosely series in this time of social distance and self quarantine. This guy is one of the best crime writers i've ever read. On to book 3!
I have no clue what Willeford's life was like, but very probably he had problems. He was a very good writer - if only a good editor could have got him to put in more plot and a little less "background" about struggles with accommodation, wives, cars, kids, meals, this book would have been brilliant.
The second book in the Hoke Moseley series has a very different feel from “Miami Blues”. There’s no equivalent of the malevolent character of Freddy Frenger, who drove much of the plot in the first novel. In this one, Hoke investigates the death of a junkie, and a promotion-hungry senior officer also tasks him with investigating some cold cases. The story actually has more about Hoke’s personal life than any police procedural work. He gets dragged into some personal issues affecting his new partner, Detective Sanchez, and he also suddenly finds himself looking after his two teenage daughters, aged 16 and 14, neither of whom he has seen for 4 years. His ex-wife is remarrying and the girls say they don’t want to live with their mother’s new partner, although it’s also implied that their mother is happy enough to see them go. Hoke also spends much of the book looking for a new place to live. The author works in a fair bit of humour, and there’s one bizarre scene where Hoke goes to look at a house and encounters a dog that’s not particularly well-trained.
I quite enjoyed this. I thought it tailed off a little towards the end, but over the piece it was entertaining enough. You get the impression that Charles Willeford was re-setting the clock with Hoke Moseley, with an eye to the next book.
A differenza di Miami Blues, la vicenda è più intima. Si parla di famiglia non convenzionale, si parla dell'essere genitori, e si parla dell'America degli anni '80. Il ritmo è sereno, rilassante e pacato. Non ci sono i grandi exploits come nel precedente capitolo, ma ho particolarmente apprezzato il nuovo ritmo della narrazione. Hoke Moseley è il detective più sgangherato che conosca, ma quant'è bello passare qualche giorno in sua compagnia!
A Hoke Moseley novel is to literature as comfort food is to cuisine. You have to like the guy because he's just like you or at least some of your friends. He struggles with his finances, his relationships, his job, just like a real person. He's not above taking advantage of a situation for his own benefit but he's nowhere near a bad person, just an average joe and that is what makes him so appealing.
Highly entertaining. Well-plotted, funny, and atmospheric. Also, an engaging look into the personal life of the protagonist, Hoke Mosely. I've read two out of the four Hoke Mosely books and will definitely get around to the other two.
In “New Hope for the Dead” by Charles Willeford, Miami homicide detective Hoke Moseley is called to a posh Miami neighborhood to investigate a lethal overdose. There he meets the alluring stepmother of the decedent, and begins to wonder about dating a witness. Meanwhile, he has been threatened with suspension by his ambitious new chief unless he leaves his beloved, if squalid, suite at the El Dorado Hotel, and moves downtown. With free housing hard to come by, Hoke is desperate to find a new place to live. His difficulties are only amplified by an assignment to re-investigate fifty unsolved murders, the unexpected arrival of his two teenage daughters, and a partner struggling with an unwanted pregnancy. With few options and even fewer dollars, he decides that the suspicious and beautiful stepmother of the dead junkie might be a compromised solution to all of his problems.
Charles Willeford took writing very seriously, and applied himself to it wholeheartedly for some 40 years. He started out as a poet; his first book, "Proletarian Laughter", was a collection of poems. He began publishing paperback fiction while serving his second hitch in the military, and kept at it.
With the Hoke Moseley novels, he got a taste of the commercial success that had eluded him.
The Hoke Moseley book series by Charles Willeford includes books:
Miami Blues New Hope for the Dead Sideswipe The Way We Die Now.
Three down, one to go. Nothing in crime fiction like the Willeford Moseley books. The humor, the observation, the eccentricity, the style--did I mention the humor?--of these stories is addictive. Why do there have to be only FOUR of 'em? Moving on to THE WAY WE DIE NOW...
In New Hope for the Dead the character arc of Hoke Moseley, the quirky homicide detective with a practical life view, takes a driver’s seat, while the crime mystery fills in the gaps.
After reading and enjoying the fast-paced plot and characters in book one, I wanted to learn more about Hoke’s personal life. And book two did not disappoint! We get to meet Hoke’s daughters and observe his parenting skills. Let’s say that Hoke will not win the father of the year award by any means. However, he handles everything with the same attitude that he uses in his job: a pragmatic logic with grayish morals. By the end of the story, Hoke has neatly wrapped up the case of the junkie OD, solved his living situation, and helped his partner who faced a life changing decision.
Without the plain, hardboiled writing skills of Willeford, this book could have been a big old flop. It’s his uncanny knack for description – the kind you can’t make up unless you’ve lived yourself – that kept me burning through the pages. Truly, there is nothing spectacular about this book; however, it all rolls together into an intriguing bundle.
I can understand why this series brought the author notoriety.
Hoke Blakeley investigates a suspicious suicide while dealing with a lot of private matters. The book blurb will fill you in about the details. And these details make this book more than worth while.
The interaction with his new partner makes for great reading.
I will read the other two books in this series of four.
Whenever two people meet, there are really six people present. There is each man as he sees himself, each man as the other person sees him, and each man as he really is. William James