Hardcore Twenty-Four by Janet Evanovich

Posted January 2, 2018 by karenbaron in Adventure, Cats, Chick Lit, Comedy, Dogs, Guest Post, Murder, Mystery, Review, Series, Urban / 0 Comments

Hardcore Twenty-Four by Janet EvanovichHardcore Twenty-Four by Janet Evanovich
Series: Stephanie Plum, #24
Published by G.P. Putnam's Sons on November 14th 2017
Genres: Chick Lit, Crime, Humor, Mystery, Romance
Pages: 320
Format: Hardcover
five-stars

Janet Evanovich’s #1 New York Times bestselling sensation Stephanie Plum returns in her twenty-fourth thriller as mutilated corpses litter the streets of New Jersey...
Trouble comes in bunches for Stephanie Plum. First, professional grave robber and semi-professional loon, Simon Diggery, won’t let her take him in until she agrees to care for his boa constrictor, Ethel. Stephanie’s main qualification for babysitting an extremely large snake is that she owns a stun gun—whether that’s for use on the wandering serpent or the petrified neighbors remains to be seen.
Events take a dark turn when headless bodies start appearing across town. At first, it’s just corpses from a funeral home and the morgue that have had the heads removed. But when a homeless man is murdered and dumped behind a church Stephanie knows that she’s the only one with a prayer of catching this killer.
If all that’s not enough, Diesel’s back in town. The 6-foot-tall, blonde-haired hunk is a man who accepts no limits—that includes locked doors, closed windows and underwear. Trenton’s hottest cop, Joe Morelli isn’t pleased at this unexpected arrival nor is Ranger, the high-powered security consultant who has his own plans for Stephanie.
As usual Jersey’s favorite bounty hunter is stuck in the middle with more questions than answers. What’s the deal with Grandma Mazur’s latest online paramour? Who is behind the startling epidemic of mutilated corpses? And is the enigmatic Diesel’s sudden appearance a coincidence or the cause of recent deadly events?

Can Morelli, Ranger, and Diesel save Stephanie and Lula before they lose their minds? Or has that already happened?

Hardcore Twenty-Four by Janet Evanovich is full of mystery, humor and the unknown. I have to say it again, love this series. Stephanie Plum may not think her life is great, but it is fun. Let’s face it, it isn’t like she is going to make it at a regular nine to five job. It just isn’t her.

Normally, Stephanie has two hot guys in her life, but in this one book, Diesel is back and she is juggling three hot guys. When Diesel shows up there is always more mystery to Stephanie’s regular day to day craziness. You never know what is going to pop up and grab you.

This was an exceptionally great story. These are the things that pop up in this installment, a boa constrictor named Anita, decapitated corpses, gnomes, Grandma Mazur’s new love, cheesy fries, raccoons eating peanut butter from the jar, Lula’s new extra-ordinary sense, only 4 cars (I think), Old Maid, Key West, double or nothing with Ranger, a lot of cats, and of course Zombies, but not in that order.

Janet Evanovich can truly spin a tale and her Stephanie Plum series is fabulous. My rating is 5 stars and you should read this book.

**Add to Goodreads**

This is a Guest Review for Baroness’ Book Trove. Thank you for the opportunity to review this book on your site. ~Jen

five-stars

About Janet Evanovich

Janet’s Bio (quoted from her website)

When I was a kid I spent a lot of time in LaLa Land. La la Land is like an out-of-body experience –while your mouth is eating lunch your mind is conversing with Captain Kirk. Sometimes I’d pretend to sing opera. My mother would send me to the grocery store down the street, and off I’d go, caterwauling at the top of my lungs. Before the opera thing I went through a horse stage where I galloped everywhere and made holes in my Aunt Lena’s lawn with my hooves. Aunt Lena was a good egg. She understood that the realities of daily existence were lost in the shadows of my looney imagination.After graduation from South River High School, I spent four years in the Douglass College art department, honing my ability to wear torn Levis, learning to transfer cerebral excitement to primed canvas. Painting beat the heck out of digging holes in lawns, but it never felt exactly right. It was frustrating at best, excruciating at worst. My audience was too small. Communication was too obscure. I developed a rash from pigment.

Somewhere down the line I started writing stories. The first story was about the pornographic adventures of a fairy who lived in a second rate fairy forest in Pennsylvania. The second story was about …well never mind, you get the picture.

I sent my weird stories out to editors and agents and collected rejection letters in a big cardboard box. When the box was full I burned the whole damn thing, crammed myself into pantyhose and went to work for a temp agency.

Four months into my less than stellar secretarial career, I got a call from an editor offering to buy my last mailed (and heretofore forgotten) manuscript. It was a romance written for the now defunct Second Chance at Love line, and I was paid a staggering $2,000.

With my head reeling from all this money, I plunged into writing romance novels full time, saying good-by, good riddance to pantyhose and office politics. I wrote series romance for the next five years, mostly for Bantam Loveswept. It was a rewarding experience, but after twelve romance novels I ran out of sexual positions and decided to move into the mystery genre.

I spent two years retooling –drinking beer with law enforcement types, learning to shoot, practicing cussing. At the end of those years I created Stephanie Plum. I wouldn’t go so far as to say Stephanie is an autobiographical character, but I will admit to knowing where she lives.

It turns out I’m a really boring workaholic with no hobbies or special interests. My favorite exercise is shopping and my drug of choice is Cheeze Doodles.

I read comic books and I only watch happy movies. I motivate myself to write by spending my money before I make it. And when I grow up I want to be just like Grandma Mazur.


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