A note on July 19, my dad’s birthday. Emmet Jeremiah Boyle, son of Irish immigrants who settled on Chicago’s South Side. Valued his family, education, good books. Read novels, history—and mysteries. When his son came home from college, full of literature, my dad was proud. But he also had stacks of books by his chairs, on his bedside table. One summer day he pulled one out and handed it over. “Try this,” he said.
It was a Dick Francis, an early one. BLOOD SPORT? I’m not sure. But I read it in one or two sittings, stayed up into the early morning hours, riding hard for the big finish. It was the beginning of a love for books that provide both rush and insights, suspense and poetic moments. It was a father’s gift, one of many.
In PORT CITY SHAKEDOWN, the first Brandon Blake novel, Brandon gets a full dose of bad guys. A brawl in a funeral home introduces him to Joel Fuller, a sociopathic hustler. Fuller is fresh out of jail and determined to take Brandon out—after Fuller and his sidekick Kelvin shake him down.
Rocky isn’t a tough guy. He’s a skinny little kid with crooked glasses, and he shouldn’t be homeless in Portland, Maine. When McMorrow and Roxanne pluck him from under the stomping feet of a gang of street kids, Rocky latches onto McMorrow–and drags him into a world of murder, both old and new. Why is McMorrow protecting Rocky? The cops want to know. Why is Rocky on the run? McMorrow wants to know. Why does death follow in Rocky’s wake? Jack and Roxanne need to find out before they’re added to the list. 
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