Loathe though I am to toot my own horn, I was born in a cove in a boat in Siam. All my Biker novels are moving to Wolfpack this month, including Sons of Bitches. Sons of Bitches is about a woman who puts out a Muhammad comic, and must hire Josh to protect her. I copied the following review before my previous publisher deleted it. I wish I could name the author, but I assure you, it wasn’t me!
“Baron” His Bloody Red Heart: A Writer’s Finest Hour When a pulp novel by a true comics great transcends genre to become entirely a thing of its own, and of its moment, you have the literary equivalent of a protest song on your hands, folks. And in SONS OF BITCHES, Mike Baron really “busks” some heads. Polly Furst is a likable young comic book creator who incidentally is a lesbian with a war vet gay uncle. In Baron’s fast moving prose, with his Biker P.I. Josh Pratt now well established, we get to know Polly through her unusual career, her wit and modern girl-next-doorishness. She’s real. Baron has nothing to say about sexuality, though it is involved in the point he makes by novel’s end, a point that does for pulp thrillers what Picasso did for Mickey Mouse. Polly has invested her energies in a comic book that has caught the attention of religious extremists. She hires Josh Pratt, Baron’s reformed hood Biker who’s now a private eye with government contacts and a loyal dog remaining from a doomed love that may be an ongoing theme in the Bad Road Rising series. Pratt uses the Internet and Dark Web to help solve cases, and this never fails to be entertaining. This novel also finds Pratt in the funny position of describing his bike in page-long detail a few times. It’s a great trick; there’s a melancholy patience to this young man who’s been on both sides of the moral road. Baron builds up his fever dream with expert writerly cruelty. We care. He knows we have to, because it’s his job to make the crap hit the fan when we least expect it. As in most of his novels to date, a breezy chapter can end in shock. It might just as easily end in an amusing story stalemate. I noticed as far back as 1983 that Baron likes only one thing better than surprise, in his work: having the ability and desire for an originality that guarantees his penchant for surprises stays surprising. So Pratt helps Polly hide out with her uncle and finds an ally in a Dark Web user who may turn out to be a bit of a sidekick to our hero in the future. On that, I await a surprise. The bad guys threaten Polly’s life, try to sabotage her book signings, interfere with her career. She presses on, ignoring Pratt’s concerns as much as possible. Polly is young and broad-minded in a free country. As an atheist, she is happy to satirize religion. A reader is well aware a Polly Furst would scream bloody murder if anyone dared criticize her sexual orientation. Pratt just wants to help and make a buck to buy breakfast biscuits with. He’s no philosopher, because so much of what people ruminate about in life is obvious, or irrelevant, to him. He gives in to lust at one point, gets drugged and things seem OK. “Seems OK” is a way of describing the clear message unfolding. Pratt’s lust interest has ties with a radical group holed up on the land of a sick old man who obviously could forgive the Devil for starting fires. Pratt and friends scope out the place, as the hands of government and law enforcement are tied by the rights of the freedom-hating visitors to our land, who, while plotting the destruction of our way of life, are enjoying it like sailors on leave. Baron surely chuckled writing of their secret perversity, no surprise to Pratt or to this reader. It’s your call on that, fellow readers. After the run-ins with villains, including an articulate man who’s almost apologetic about the demands of his faith, Baron hits his story and us with a meteor. Pratt gears up, though he can’t legally own a firearm. Abusers of freedom have turned freedom on itself, because of threats overlooked through cultural sensitivity. Sometimes freedom is like justice: a tragic tumble of dice. Readers should approach this book through an emotional lens, because Baron is not among the media figures screaming their opinions in what used to be called entertainment. This book is like life. It happens. You get to think about it. You get to hum along to some great Protest Song lyrics.