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Reviewed in the United States on October 6, 2021Verified Purchase Review for White Trash by A.L. Norton and Dell Sweet
Crime drama fiction is not my usual type of read, still once in a while it is a means of tapping into street smarts while living in the burbs. Here we get the trailer park miserable life of one David Cross, the common man, the underdog ex-con. The story opens to a shootout drug deal gone bad and a crash behind David’s trailer. The grisly scene yields drugs and vast amounts of money before the police arrive. Soon David is on the run with April, a lovely girl from the other end of the park. Will David and his new lady slay all the evil giants chasing them to Mexico safe haven? Will he be crossed or cross the border? We have been here before with Pulp Fiction and True Romance. There is a lot of violence and creepy mafia people in this one, BUT the first half of the book has an undercurrent of poverty and low-life humor that examines the lower stratifications of getting by in America that makes the book interesting. It should have also been continued in the second half but was not. At this midpoint, too many periphery characters are fleshed out that really were not needed. It becomes an ensemble cast of creepies chasing David for the booty, when focus might have been on key players to prevent convolution and an overlong tale. Obviously the authors decided upon an elaborate field of play with many nuts and bolts to be tied together neatly in the end, which they did very well. There is a strong conversation about white trash and how they cannot get a leg up in this life, and the horrors of the trailer park and more time could have been spent there. Still, a great deal of thought went into this work by the authors, intricate nuance was ably employed. I liked that, even if I could not relate or care about any of the characters engaged in endless criminal actions.
By A. L. Norton & Dell Sweet
Copyright © 2021 by A. L Norton & Dell Sweet
PUBLISHED BY: A. L. Norton & Dell Sweet; all rights reserved
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This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to an actual living person’s places, situations, or events is purely coincidental.
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Vinny Westley answered the phone behind his bar and listened. He dragged a pad over and wrote as he listened. “Yeah, yeah,” he said at last. “I’ll make some calls in a few hours. Maybe I’ll call you back, Jimmy. I’ll see.” He hung up the phone and looked down at the pad. Tommy Murphy was looking for a couple of young kids on the run with cash and drugs. There would be of suitable reward made for finding them in any condition. Tommy only cared about the merchandise. Not the kids. If they tried to unload any of it here, he’d know. He looked at his watch, 3:45 a.m. Fuck it, he thought. He picked up the phone and began to make his phone calls. After all, it was Tommy Murphy. Best to get on it fast. Not fuck it up. Tommy had a long memory, and that could be good, or it could be awful.
“We really should get going, David.”
“Oh, like I didn’t say that myself?” David asked.
“You may have,” April said. She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him.
“Okay,” David agreed. April sat up and then stood from the bed. She padded to a large suitcase she had bought yesterday. April stood naked and pondered what to wear. She looked back over her shoulder at David, catching him watching. “Put your eyes back in your head, David. We have to go,” she told him.
David sighed deeply. “But you’re so beautiful.” The sheet tented around his waist. She smiled and then walked back to the bed. One hand slid under the sheet and circled him.
“How are we ever going to get anything done?” she asked in a husky voice as her lips settled on his own.
He pulled her onto the bed.
The phone rang.
“No. Nothing at all,” Robert Robello said as he picked it up. “Well, hey, I know that name. April Evans. That was- “He dragged forward some paperwork on his desk from the day before, nearly spilling his coffee as he did.
“Yeah. Sold April a car yesterday. Cash. Her and her husband, David. David and April Evans. They coughed up about six grand altogether. Cash. From the bank, they said—all hundred-dollar bills. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that money, is there?” he asked. “Oh? Who! Jesus, who wants to piss him off. No, I don’t want to know. Got a pen?” He rattled off the vehicle description and the plate number into the phone. “Just tell him it was me who passed it along… Fucking-A, I will! I see them again. I’ll snatch them right up. Yeah, yeah. You got it, Vinny.”
He hung up the phone and picked up the coffee cup. How did a couple of young kids like that rip off Tommy Murphy, he wondered? Best not to think about it, he told himself. He only wished he had known yesterday. He could have snatched them both upright then. It would have been a good pay off too, probably. Fuck. Well, he told himself, at least Tommy Murphy would know the lead had come from him. That could pay off in the future, he told himself.
He took a sip from his coffee and then snagged an ‘eclair from the box on the desk. He glanced at his watch. 4:30 a.m. “Fuck the clogged arteries,” he muttered. He took a massive bite from the ‘eclair.
A new collaboration between Dell Sweet and A. L. Norton: White Trash is the first novel in a series of Crime novels. Read it right now: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09D2NKCD9