Not a review, just some quotes from the four wonderful stories of romantic noir and adventure included in this collection:

Puerto de Angeles was my Waterloo, but it wasn’t yet clear whether I was Napoleon or Wellington. — Pink Sangría

My mother had died twenty-four years ago, at thirty-three, in an accident. I'd been only nine at the time. My father... well, now it was his turn to die, only it wasn't going to be an accident... — FANDANGO

This morning he’d woken to just another day on the island. Easy, sure, comfortable, definitely. Then Felicia had stepped off the bus, and without at first realizing it, so had everything he’d been missing in life. — Juggernaut

I wasn’t among the fortunate to have seen sexy Brigitte Bardot sunbathing topless along Spain’s magnificent Costa del Sol way back when, but I could not imagine it being more breathtakingly impactful on a man than was my first glimpse of Alisha Fontaine. — Costa del Sol

Tammy looked at me like I’d just descended from heaven. It was a look a man rarely if ever gets from a woman. A look worth dying for. I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. — Pink Sangría

I stood. She reached up and squeezed my hand, trying to hold on to this us, before we went through with it and became a different us, held together by our sin. I turned and headed down the cliffs to the sea without looking back, afraid her anguish would weaken my resolve. — FANDANGO

Being in a place far removed from her everyday life, Felicia suddenly wondered if she wasn’t experiencing that special kind of privacy felt by most travelers. Maybe that explained why so many people did such crazy things while on vacation. You were both a voyager and a voyeur, a stranger in a land of possibilities you’d never imagined, much less given serious consideration, while tethered so closely to those who knew you, and would witness firsthand your brief time as a butterfly before returning to the cocoon. — Juggernaut

LA might have been the city of Angels once upon a time, but judging by the amount of matrimonial work I picked up, with some wife or husband wanting me to tail their spouse to get the goods on them, most of those with wings had been clipped — if they’d ever had any. It was smarmy work that made me want to take three showers a day just to feel clean again. — Costa del Sol

My first night across the border I stopped at a ramshackle cantina that had a warped bar counter and dirt floor, like in the old west, and bought a drink for a tiny but curvy little Mexican girl named Calida. She had a cherub-like face that belonged in a cradle but a body that suggested nothing less than a grown man could pacify her now. — Pink Sangría

I could not imagine a divine hand was involved, but perhaps Frank Lassiter had done enough evil that I was just the instrument being used to give him a shove off this mortal coil — because he wasn’t shuffling off fast enough on his own. — FANDANGO

“A nice girl,” Jack whispered to himself in the shaded archway. “I thought they’d retired your version and threw away the blueprints.” — Juggernaut

I caught her being ridden harder than Ron Turcotte had worked Secretariat at Belmont. A riding crop was used in both instances, but unless Secretariat had turned back to Turcotte and begged for more whip during the homestretch, and screamed its lungs out in triumph as it crossed the finish line, that’s where the similarities ended. — Costa del Sol

Two weeks can seem like two years when people are in love, and no one had ever been in love the way we were in love. Or so we thought, of course, as all true lovers do. But when you wake up in paradise each morning, it is only natural to reach for more than heaven will allow. That was the mistake I made, and it changed everything… — FANDANGO

Tammy looked down in defeat; and maybe humiliation at revealing so much so soon. From the bottom of some private sorrow she said without looking up, “He’d just find me if I tried again, and it would be worse this time. Not because he loves me; he hasn’t touched me in a normal way in over a year. He touches me now only to be cruel. He can’t let me go because I’m his, and losing me would be an embarrassment. But he hates me because he can’t. I’ll never be totally free…not until he’s dead.” — Pink Sangría

I was sorting the photos and stopped when I came across one of Alisha Fontaine. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Even in a photo she took a man’s breath away, and I found it difficult to take my eyes off her. When I finally managed to look up, Morris was smiling. He knew he’d found the right bait. — Costa del Sol

Felicia thought about what Ezekiel’s late wife had said — “God has perfect timing, we just have to pay attention.” — Juggernaut

Situated along the beautiful coastline on the Gulf side, Puerto de Angeles was the best of both worlds; it had all the touristy amenities while still retaining its authentic Mexican flavor. Real Mexican families lived here alongside the tourism trade, so what whoring went on was restricted to hole-in-the-wall cantinas situated on dirty streets beyond the neat and clean paved sections that brought in the tourist dollars. Some semi-pros worked the moderate-sized hotels, but they were more upscale and blended in easily. They were also less likely to kiss, or be affectionate once relieving you of your Yankee dollars. Or so I’d heard… — Pink Sangría

Four brilliant stories of intrigue, adventure, and romance. One of the best collections I’ve ever read.

FANDANGO:

“She was the only heaven I’d ever known, the only paradise that had ever mattered to me.”

FANDANGO is a soft-noir novelette set in the present day, but with an old-fashioned style reminiscent of the great noir of the ‘40s and ‘50s. This little gem packs a combination punch of wonderful story-telling, great dialogue, and brilliant atmosphere. The edge-of-your-seat danger and suspense is underpinned by a lovely romance by the sea that softens the grittier aspects of the story. It grabbed me from the first sentence, and I read the entire marvelous adventure in one sitting. Along the way, I experienced the romance and danger with my heart racing at times. At other times, I felt the warm glow of love covering me like a favorite blanket. And, the ending--Superb! No one writes a better ending than Underwood. I’ve read many of his books and stories, and I know when I begin one, I’m heading into a fine story that I can always count on to be perfectly and compassionately written.
An added bonus is the inclusion of music--a wonderful mainstay in Underwood’s work. This time, Herb Alpert provides the score--a perfect backdrop to this romantic thriller. I even listened to a collection of Alpert classics as I read. Great combination!

PINK SANGRIA:

“Puerto de Angeles was my Waterloo, but it wasn’t yet clear whether I was Napoleon or Wellington…”

The fishing vacation in Mexico was going pretty well for Private Investigator Glenn Colby. Then he meets the lovely and sweet Tammy who has a problem that may be even more serious than she knows. Things heat up in more ways than one as Tammy’s trouble becomes Glenn’s as well.

“Tammy looked at me like I’d just descended from heaven. It was a look a man rarely if ever gets from a woman. A look worth dying for. I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.”

Glenn recruits help from a memorable cast of characters who include a lonely Aztec woman who oversees the marina, an extremely paranoid sound guy named Charlie, and a crime boss whose young wife Glenn befriends.
As in all of Bobby Underwood’s fiction, the dialogue is spot-on perfect, with vivid characters that the reader quickly grows to care about.
This romantic noir is 76 pages of rich atmosphere laced with romance and danger, making for a story reminiscent of those great noir-style films of the 1940s. Though set in the present day, it has that nostalgic feel which will endear it to readers hoping to find quality fiction among today’s less than stellar offerings.
This is a page-turning winner.

JUGGERNAUT:

“This morning he’d woken to just another day on the island. Easy, sure, comfortable, definitely. Then Felicia had stepped off the bus, and without at first realizing it, so had everything he’d been missing in life.”

As with all of Bobby Underwood’s stories, the characters are real people like you and me. He has an unique ability to make us care about these people as if they were our own friends and family. I especially loved Felicia, a school teacher who tenderly cares for her aging father, while putting her own dreams aside. Her passion for crossword puzzles immediately endeared her to me, as I share that same passion. I was rooting for her from the get-go.
This romantic adventure/mystery shows off Underwood’s gift as a storyteller, as well. The pace, atmosphere, and action were perfect. It’s one of those rare stories that I just couldn’t put down. The prose is so smoothly rendered, it’s like finding that perfect rhythmic swimming stroke in calm, crystal-blue waters. I could have swam these waters indefinitely.

My favorite quote from the story:

“God has perfect timing, we just have to pay attention.”

Yes, we do. Thanks for the reminder, Mr. Underwood--and for the fun I had reading this wonderful novelette.

COSTA DEL SOL:

Los Angeles Private Investigator Nick Page finds himself in a tight spot on the coast of Spain. If not for the beautiful Alisha who’s tangled up in the same mess, things could be a whole lot worse.

With this wonderful tale of intrigue and romance, Bobby Underwood gives us a present day noir in the spirit of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. The dialogue is so sharp and accurate, it slices you in all the right places. This novelette is generously filled with spot-on description and flavor for a fast-paced thrill ride that doesn’t leave anything out.

“LA might have been the city of Angels once upon a time, but judging by the amount of matrimonial work I picked up, with some wife or husband wanting me to tail their spouse to get the goods on them, most of those with wings had been clipped--if they’d ever had any. It was smarmy work that made me want to take three showers a day just to feel clean again.”

“...I caught her being ridden harder than Ron Turcotte had worked Secretariat at Belmont. A riding crop was used in both instances, but unless Secretariat had turned back to Turcotte and begged for more whip during the homestretch, and screamed its lungs out in triumph as it crossed the finish line, that’s where the similarities ended.”

Underwood puts you in a sporty convertible along a curvy stretch of road with the wind in your hair, speeding toward a fantastic conclusion.

This fantastic collection is more than worth its weight in gold. Truly superb! ( )