Ezra Dawn, $2.99, ISBN 978-0463420812
Romantic Suspense, 2018
At thirteen I killed for the first time. The man was an accountant my father had accused of skimming off the top. By the age of seventeen I was fully immersed in the life. At eighteen my father was killed in a war between the families and I took over as the new head of the Irish mob. It’s been mine ever since. Now someone is making a play for my throne and I’m going to have to think outside the box if I want to find out who. It’s not going to be easy but it’s something I have to do. I refuse to let some asshole destroy everything my family has worked so hard to build.
How cute. I personally would love to know just what kind of Irish mob would let an eighteen-year old take over, but hey, fiction. Romantic fiction. I’m just here for the man-bun fun.
He sighs and says, “I get it boss. I apologize for disrespecting you like that. We all know you’re doing your best.”
“Apology accepted. Try to reign in that temper of yours yeah? I’d hate to have to kill you.”
Bruno turns white as a sheet and nods. “Yes boss.”
I tilt my head towards the door and say, “Get out of here then.”
Why do these people talk like they are channeling Joe Pesci in a sitcom role?
Mickey O’Rourke, our mob boss guy – of course his name is Mickey, sigh – has a problem. There is a mole in his gang that may sink his entire operation. Don’t worry, though, he has a plan.
“This is the insane part. What if we bring in someone new but qualified for my head of security? A fresh set of eyes on the situation might be just what we need. We’re too involved to see who is telling the truth and who is lying to our faces, so bringing in someone who is completely unattached is the perfect solution.”
Yes, bringing in a stranger into a tense situation in which Mickey can’t trust anyone – perfect!
Fortunately, his second-in-command Callahan will be good as a reviewer on this website, as he tells Mickey:
“You’ve lost your damn mind. Bringing in a stranger for your head of security? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard!”
Unfortunately, our hero won’t listen.
“But it could work. You spread the word and vet each applicant before sending them to me. I’ll make the final decision. In the end it’ll be about picking someone I’m sure I can trust. I know it’s insane, but you have to admit it’s crazy enough to work.”
What’s the worst thing that can happen, right?
Well, how about Justice J Taylor, FBI agent, going undercover and getting that gig?
“Mickey O’Rourke just threw open the doors to his organization. He’s looking to the outside for a new head of security and we’re sending you in. No one even knows what he looks like. This is the chance of a lifetime. Pack your bags. You’re going undercover. Since this is something that happened out of the blue we didn’t have time to create an elaborate cover for you, so you’ll be using your real name and background. However, there will be no record of you being an agent should they go looking for it.”
“You’re fucking serious?! This is Mickey O’Rourke we’re talking about here! Irish mob Mickey O’Rourke. Kill you as soon as look at you Mickey O’Rourke. Are you fucking insane?! You can’t send me in without a decent cover!”
Justice is the bottom, right?
I tried to give Law of the Irish a chance, I really do, but my only reaction upon reaching the last page is to groan in relief that the whole thing is over. I can’t get into this story because every character talks like Joe Pesci in a parody version of The Godfather, one with a script written by someone who is far more interested in having the main characters crack sarcastic one-liners instead of making the effort to create believable gangster drama. You may have heard of Disney-fied pirate crew in some romance novels – well, here we have a Disney-fied mob, one in which most of the “good” mob folks nod in unison at everything Mickey says, and anyone who disagrees is a bad cartoon villain.
There is a disconnect here because, despite the cartoon-tier conversations and interior monologues, the story never reaches an appropriate level of camp that would complement the dialogues and the cartoon-like nature of the plot. It’s like watching a Disney cartoon where the seven dwarfs keep acting like they would break out into song, only to stop short of doing so each time and make me wonder whether these people are just trolling me. What I am trying to say here is that the way the characters behave is too over the top for the rest of the story. The end result is like a truly disorienting version of a Frankenstein’s monster.
Oh, and I’m also disappointed that there isn’t any credible emotional or philosophical conflict on Justice’s end due to him shagging a mob boss when he’s an FBI fellow himself. Then again, given how much these characters resemble cartoon cut-outs, maybe I’m expecting too much from Justice and his boink-buddy.
At any rate, Law of the Irish just doesn’t work. The execution is off – if the author wanted to have these characters act like edgy versions of Disney cartoon characters, then the story should have gone all out to embrace the camp and the comedy.
