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Summary
Summary
The pursuit of a "skip" brings Stephanie to Las Vegas, and three mob guys want to make sure it's a one-way ticket.
Author Notes
Janet Evanovich was born on April 22, 1943 in South River, New Jersey. She received a bachelor's degree in art from Douglas College, which is part of Rutgers University. She was working as a secretary for a temporary employment agency when she sold her first romance novel, Hero at Large, which was published in 1987 under the pseudonym Steffie Hall. She went on to write 12 romances in five years using her real name before beginning to write mysteries. Her first mystery novel, One for the Money, became the first book in the Stephanie Plum series. She is also the author of the Alex Barnaby series, A Between-the-Numbers Novel series, Lizzy and Diesel series, Full series written with Charlotte Hughes, the Fox and O'Hare series written with Lee Goldberg, and the Knight and Moon series written with Phoef Sutton.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (4)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Narrator King somehow makes the crazy, comic antics of Evanovich's irresistible bond agent, Stephanie Plum, seem almost rational in this fine audio adaptation. The story opens with the outrageous apprehension of a nude, Vaseline-coated fugitive by Stephanie and her plus-sized, ex-hooker, "sometimes partner" Lula. Soon after, Stephanie sets off on the trail of Samuel Singh, an illegal immigrant who apparently fled a Visa bond and his fianc?e. With plenty of prior experience narrating Evanovich titles (Hard Eight, etc.), King has no trouble highlighting the eccentricities of the author's invariably quirky cast of characters, as well as the ongoing romantic triangle between Stephanie, her sexy partner Ranger and Joe, a Trenton cop with whom she shares a "long, strange history." Evanovich's quick-witted, sarcastic and often raunchy dialogue takes the edge off the story's suspense, but King's chameleon voice and ease with accents make this a lively listening experience. Simultaneous release with the St. Martin's hardcover (Forecasts, June 23). (July) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Booklist Review
Stephanie Plum is a Jersey Girl, a bounty hunter, and a resident of a part of Trenton where you can still go to Mom's for dinner and your cop boyfriend Morelli's grandmother has visions that include you in a coffin. Stephanie is on the trail of an Indian contract worker named Singh who disappeared when his visa was up. When she interviews a McDonald's employee who knew him, he's shot as she stands there. Then rose-and-carnation bouquets with very sinister notes start appearing in Stephanie's apartment and in her e-mail, and a few more bodies turn up with bullet holes. Meanwhile, Stephanie's sister, Valerie, is about to give birth; her sidekick, Lula, goes on the loudest diet ever written; and a trip to Vegas--yes, it's business--involves both Elvis and Tom Jones impersonators. Evanovich, and Stephanie, are at the top of their form here: laugh-out loud moments jostle with sticky, visceral terror; Stephanie's mentor, Ranger, and Morelli don't so much vie for her favors as bestow them in turn. Ever smarter, funnier, sexier, scarier. --GraceAnne DeCandido Copyright 2003 Booklist
Kirkus Review
"Nothing defeats us in Jersey," says Stephanie Plum--not smog, the Mob, heart-threatening cuisine, or, this time, a killer who's set his sights on Trenton's least likely bounty hunter (Hard Eight, 2002, etc.). The case looks routine compared to Stephanie's last assignment: wrestling with a naked car thief who'd coated himself with Vaseline to avoid capture. Samuel Singh, whose visitor's visa had been bonded by Stephanie's cousin and boss Vincent Plum, has disappeared, together with his promise to marry Nonnie Apusenja, his landlady's daughter, and Boo, his landlady's dog. By the time Vincent traces his quarry to Las Vegas, however, three others have already died, with every indication (playfully threatening notes accompanying floral tributes, taunting e-mails, the occasional tranquilizing dart) that Stephanie will be next. Wrong. Samuel himself is next, leaving Stephanie in her role as designated victim--assuming she can get time off from dealing with her eternal romantic partners, Trenton cop Joe Morelli and industrial-strength skip-tracer Ranger Manoso, both eager as ever to bed her (and vice-versa); her hugely pregnant sister Valerie, who's threatening to have her baby any minute if she can just stop guzzling gravy; and the other cast regulars badly in need of their own tranquilizing darts. The plot is--as usual--a shambles, but the people and their dialogue are as sharp and funny as ever. Though no high point in Stephanie's saga, this installment, like a weekly sitcom fix, won't disappoint her fans either. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Library Journal Review
In her I Love Lucy way, bounty hunter Stephanie Plum is at it again. Singh has jumped ship, abandoning his fianc?e, stealing her dog, and owing his landlord back rent. Through their sleuthing, Stephanie and Ranger track him down in Vegas. Unfortunately, owing to a previous problem with the law, Ranger isn't allowed to go to Vegas. This leaves Stephanie with Lulu and Connie as her traveling companions. Even though Evanovich is in her storytelling prime, and readers get a lot of laughs at Stephanie's expense, this ninth story is definitely not as strong or as funny as earlier titles in the series. Part of the problem is the lack of exciting and colorful characters. Grandma Mazur has little more than a brief cameo, and we both need and want to see more of her. In addition, taking Stephanie out of New Jersey for half of the novel diminishes the enjoyment of seeing her in her element. But despite such slight weaknesses, this is still a decent installment in the series. Readers will be clamoring for their Stephanie fix. Recommended for all libraries.-Marianne Fitzgerald, Charlotte Mecklenburg Sch. Dist., NC (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
CHAPTER 1, PART 1 My name is Stephanie Plum and I was born and raised in the Chambersburg section of Trenton where men pretty much only drop their drawers in private. Thank God for small favors because the top activities for men in the Burg are scarfing pastries and pork rinds and growing ass hair. The pastry and pork rind scarfing I've seen first hand. The ass hair growing is for the most part rumor. The first butt I saw up close and personal belonged to Joe Morelli. Morelli put an end to my virgin status and showed me an ass that was masculine perfection ...smooth and muscular and blemish free. Back then Morelli thought a long term commitment was twenty minutes. I was one of thousands who got to admire Morelli's bare ass as he pulled his pants up and headed for the door. Morelli's been in and out of my life since then. He's currently in and he's improved with age, butt included. So the sight of a naked ass isn't exactly new to me, but the one I was presently watching took the cake. Punky Balog had an ass like Winnie the Pooh ...big and fat and furry. Sad to say, that was where the similarity ended because, unlike Pooh bear, there was nothing endearing or cuddly about Punky Balog. I knew about Punky's ass because I was in my new sunshine yellow Ford Escape, sitting across from Punky's dilapidated row house, and Punky had his huge Pooh butt plastered against his second story window. My sometimes partner, Lula, was riding shotgun for me and Lula and I were staring up at the butt in open mouthed horror. Punky slid his butt side to side on the pane and Lula and I gave a collective, upper lip curled back eeyeuuw! "Think he knows we're out here," Lula said. "Think maybe he's trying to tell us something." Lula and I work for my bail bonds agent cousin, Vincent Plum. Vinnie's office is on Hamilton Avenue, his front window looking into the Burg. He's not the world's best bonds agent. And he's not the worst. Truth is, he'd probably be a better bondsman if he wasn't saddled with Lula and me. I do fugitive apprehension for Vinnie and I have a lot more luck than skill. Lula mostly does filing. Lula hasn't got luck or skill. The thing Lula has going for her is the ability to tolerate Vinnie. Lula's a plus size black woman in a size seven white world and Lula's had a lot of practice at pulling attitude. Punky turned and gave us a wave with his Johnson. "That's just so sad," Lula said. "What do men think of? If you had a lumpy little wanger like that would you go waving it in public?" Punky was dancing now, jumping around, wanger flopping, doodles bouncing. "Holy crap," Lula said. "He's gonna rupture something." "It's gotta be uncomfortable." "I'm glad we forgot the binoculars. I wouldn't want to see this up close." I didn't even want to see it from a distance. "When I was a 'ho I used to keep myself from getting grossed out by pretending men's privates were Muppets," Lula said. "This guy looks like an anteater Muppet. See the little tuft of hair on the anteater head and then there's the thing the anteater snuffs up ants with... Except ol' Punky here's gotta get real close to the ants on account of his snuffer isn't real big. Punky's got a pinky." Lula was a 'ho in a previous life. One night while plying her trade she had a near death experience and decided to change everything but her wardrobe. Not even a near death experience could get Lula out of spandex. She was currently wearing a skin tight hot pink mini-skirt and a tiger print top that made her boobs look like big round over-inflated balloons. It was early June and mid-morning and the Jersey air wasn't cooking yet, so Lula had a yellow angora sweater over the tiger top. "Hold on," Lula said. "I think his snuffer is growing." This produced another eeyeuuw from us. "Maybe I should shoot him," Lula said. "No shooting!" I felt the need to discourage Lula from hauling out her Glock, but truth was, it seemed like it'd be a public service to take a potshot at Punky. "How bad do we want this guy?" Lula asked. "If I don't bring him in, I don't get paid. If I don't get paid, I don't have rent money. If I don't have rent money, I get kicked out of my apartment and have to move in with my parents." "So we want him real bad." "Real bad." "And he's wanted for what?" "Grand theft auto." "At least it's not armed robbery. I'm gonna be hoping the only weapon he's got, he's holding in his hand right now ...on account of this don't look like much of a threat to me." "I guess we should go do it." "I'm ready to rock and roll," Lula said. "I'm ready to kick some Punky butt. I'm ready to do the job." I turned the key in the ignition. "I'm going to drop you at the corner so you can cut through the back and take the back door. Make sure you have your walkie talkie on so I can let you know when I'm coming in." "Roger, that." "And no shooting, no breaking doors down, no Dirty Harry imitations." "You can count on me." Three minutes later, Lula reported she was in place. I parked the Escape two houses down, walked to Punky's front door and rang the bell. No one responded so I rang a second time. I gave the door a solid rap with my fist and shouted bond enforcement. Open the door. I heard shouting carrying over from the back yard, a door crashing open and slamming shut and then more muffled shouting. I called Lula on the talkie but got no response. A moment later the front door opened to the house next to me and Lula stomped out. "Hey, so excuse me," she yelled at the woman behind her. "So I got the wrong door. It could happen, you know. We're under a lot of pressure when we're making these dangerous apprehensions." Copyright (c) 2003 by Evanovich, Inc. Excerpted from To the Nines by Janet Evanovich All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
