Dating dead men kozak
When a couple of Swedish Mafia hit-men in an Alfa-Romeo and an unidentified creep in a baby-blue Hummer start following Wollie around town (even on her dates), she realizes that she’d better find “it.” Whatever “it” is. It’s not unusual for people with well-known names (or even fairly well-known names) to try their hands at writing.Helped out by her friends Joey and Fredreeq, Wollie leads her pursuers on a merry chase through Hollywood, complete with a midnight visit to Marilyn Monroe’s grave, barrel rolls in a vintage Stearman, a sideways schlep through a local synagogue or two, and a visit to the Hollywood cop shop – the real thing, not the one on “Dragnet.” And when all is said and done, Wollie will sit overjoyed amidst the ruins of all her dreams. Most of the time they can trade on that name, and most of the time they have a lot more name recognition going for them than actual writing talent: two words – William Shatner.The pacing is irregular and the middle portion of the book tends to drag.But her characters are fresh - there’s not a stereotype in the batch - and her story is new, so I’ll cut her some slack.Take this description of Wollie’s buddy: “Joey turned too, hair flowing behind her like a Clairol Nice ‘n Easy commercial.Joey had enough hair for a family of four, in dramatic contrast to her stick-figure body.And she doesn’t even get to keep the clothes, though some – no, most – of them are a little slutty for Wollie’s tastes. First, she almost runs over a dead body on the road to the institution, and second, she ends up kidnapped – sort of – by a strange but compellingly dimpled man she knows only as “Doc.” Or maybe “Gomez.” She’s not certain which.But everything – and I do mean everything – goes wonky when Wollie tries to visit her paranoid-schizophrenic brother P. That’s how the long-legged blonde Wollie ends up with first a ferret named Margaret and then a little girl named Ruby, neither of which talk much. Ruby’s dad doesn’t talk much either, except to say that he doesn’t know what “it” is and only has a general idea of where “it” is.
No, wait – I read almost anything, from Parker to Paretsky, from to Evans to Evanovich.It’s a pleasure to run across the exception that proves the rule, the one that says famous people tend to write bad fiction.I’ll have to admit, however, that, Dating Dead Men shows that Harley’s writing career is still a work in progress.But Wollie has her blonde head screwed on a whole lot tighter than the flibbertigibbet Stephanie, and knows what she wants out of life – and it’s a lot more than just alternating rolls in the hay with Ranger and Morelli.This fun little snippet of chick-lit also displays Kozak’s wicked sense of humor.