Showing posts with label Hot Six. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hot Six. Show all posts

April 11, 2019

Hot Six by Janet Evanovich

Low-rent bounty hunter Stephanie Plum reaches depths of personal experience that other women detectives never quite do. In Hot Six, for example, a sequence of new and hideous cars bite the dust; she finds herself lumbered with a policeman's multiply incontinent dog; and she has several bad skin days. All this when she is trying to prove her distinctly more competent colleague and occasional boyfriend Ranger innocent of a mob hit; avoid the heavies trailing her in the hope of finding him; and cope with a wife-abusing bail defaulter with nasty habits, such as setting Stephanie on fire.
It’s been awhile since I picked up this series, and I forgot exactly how much I love it. It was super easy to jump right back in to all of the crazy shenanigans.

I’m pretty sure we’re made to think Stephanie is a pretty slim character, but with the way she eats, I don’t see how she could be! If she is, I’m certainly jealous. I would love to have her diet and still be in shape.

There are parts of these books that drive me nuts. I know it’s supposed to add to the comedy, but sometimes the characters are so incompetent I feel like screaming. I get past it quickly, but it does make my eye twitch.

Also – can we just talk about how amazing Grandma Mazur is? She is such a gem of a character no matter what book you are reading. She’s hilarious and really gives these books a lot of life.

Now, for the storyline of Hot Six – it was pretty interesting. It seemed pretty normal for Stephanie and her “everything-goes-wrong” lifestyle. But, what is normal for her is absolutely NOT for us normal folks. So, it was a fun ride as usual even if she was running into danger around every corner.

I had a fun time reading Hot Six and it was one of those books that just flies by.

5/5 Stars

Memorable Quote: “Probably the pink stucco was very Mediterranean. And probably in the summer, when the awnings were unrolled and the porch furniture was uncovered, and the sun and the heat washed over the Jersey shore, the pink house felt like itself. In March it looked like it was waiting for the Prozac to kick in. Pale and cold and stolid.”

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