Books like Lemons Never Lie — picked by fans

This is the spy thriller that started it all! I was a huge fan of the Matt Damon trilogy and had always been an avid reader, so naturally, I gravitated toward the original novel, which was far better than the film.

Popular action thrillers tend to suffer from one of two diseases: “soldier syndrome,”—meaning the author knows what he or she is writing about but isn’t a master of the language—or from “poser-itis,” which is when the writer is good with a pen but would be too scared to use it to gauge out an eye if he or she had to.

So it’s a rare wordsmith who can understand the deepest, most primal parts of the human psyche and then put it into a literary form that delights the eyes and ears. Ludlum is one such writer.

I love this book because, like all of the Parker novels, it starts in the middle of the action, with Parker and his associates spilling out of a car, on the run. Parker hides in an off-season theme park and what follows is a story that is better than Die Hard (and pre-dates it by a decade).

I love the Parker novels for this sort of action and the way that Parker adheres to his particular code. It is not one most heroes abide by but you have to admire this tough thief who lives by the words he speaks – there’s something honorable in that.

I saw the 1987 film adaptation of this novel starring Scott Glenn before I read the book, which is set decades earlier.

I loved the progression of this hard-bitten, psychologically damaged mercenary coming to love this little girl that he is charged with protecting. It’s such a pure emotion for him and the fact that she returns it so completely, as only a child can, is heart-wrenching.

Both the 1987 and the 2004 film adaptations do a good job capturing the magic of this drama, but as is usually the case, the novel does it best. If someone loves The Mandalorian, it is worth trying Man on Fire, which the former has many parallels with.

I loved The Rockford Files TV show, and Sam Strait reminds me a little of Jim Rockford. I love how there’s a lightness to this book (and its sequels) but it still contains an edgy and compelling mystery.

The dialogue is fun, as are the “rules” Sam Strait lives by… the first of which is to never live anywhere you can’t wear flip-flops, thus the moniker of The Flip-Flop Detective series.

Of all five books I’ve chosen, this is the lightest fare and an excellent palate cleanser between Stark or Quinnell without entirely leaving the genre. Conway writes some darker books as well – PI and police procedurals – but Sam Strait is the most fun.

I loved this book because it put me right there in the life, with all the violence, plots, girlfriends, and craziness. Author Nicholas Pileggi is a master of the craft. He drew me in immediately by capturing the voice of Henry Hill; mob associate turned informant.

I learned things I didn’t know–and some things I didn’t want to know–about the life. When I saw Goodfellas, the Martin Scorsese movie based on the book, it all rang true again.

In adapting Nicholas Pileggi’s 1985 non-fiction Wiseguy for film, Martin Scorsese delivered a “staged documentary,” depicting a far more gritty and authentic account of organized crime than Mario Puzo’s Godfather trilogy.

Much of what makes Pileggi’s masterpiece work is how he captures South Brooklyn culture as it morphs from the 1950s through the 1980s. Pileggi’s tale of the tarnishing of the Golden Era of Italian American organized crime is recounted from the pedestrian perspective of un-makeable underling and ultimate-turncoat Henry Hill.

That bygone Brooklyn landscape leaps off the pages, from its gambling dens and gangster bars, to its corner cafes, criminal courts, and cab stands. BONUS: Pileggi’s no-nonsense non-fiction prose, peppered with Hill’s verbatim account, delivers even more days-in-the-lives of lowlifes than Scorsese could ever have packed into his classic film. 

Locations of interest: The Prospect Park Zoo (stand-in for The Tampa Zoo); Smith Street in Red Hook (Jimmy Conway’s… show more.

Thoroughly enjoyed reading about the various fates of a shipload full of convict women who at the time were barely more than chattels of men. Susannah Watson was one of many women who stole in England to feed her starving children and found herself transported for 14 years (which in reality became a lifetime). These survivor women were inspiring and resilient in a pioneering time.

Traumatized at the age of eight, causing him to be mute for ten years, Michael has a talent. He can pick any lock, no matter how complicated, and that includes safes. You can see where I’m going with this, right? It doesn’t take long to find out where that questionable talent leads him, because he’s just been released from a ten-year stint in prison. Michael is a heartbreaking character who is unwittingly led down the wrong path. The author unfolds the story through Michael’s narrative, slipping back and forth in time to explain how he got where he is, culminating in the tragic moment that sent Michael into his world of silence. The story is original and creative in character delineation and suspense.

Sipho is a young man with nothing to lose. He drops out of high school and joins a car-stealing syndicate. The novel is part thriller and part coming-of-age tale, and the story takes the reader on an emotional journey as Sipho is sucked deeper and deeper into South African township crime. The author grew up in this township, and but for his other talents might have followed the same path as his protagonist. A remarkable look at the reality of township life and its effect on the youth.

This book grabbed me by the throat and refused to let go.

Jordan Harper does more with suggestion and a few well-crafted sentences than some writers accomplish in an entire novel. When he needs to be brutal, he’s a monster. When he needs to be tender, your eyes sting.

Polly is both a badass and a little girl—I don’t know how Harper pulled that off. And I have never cared so much about a stuffed animal as I have Polly’s teddy bear.