Blind Moon Alley – John Florio’s 2nd Jersey Leo novel is a noir knockout – #bookreview

 

 

Blind Moon Alley

A Jersey Leo Novel

John Florio

(Seventh Street Books – paperback, Kindle)

 

Jersey Leo absolutely is a misfit in Prohibition-era, Depression-ravaged Philadelphia. He is a mixed-race albino who works behind the bar at the Ink Well, a speakeasy where the customers include seedy criminals and tough cops looking both for booze and bribes.

Jersey Leo breaks the law every time he pours a drink. He also knows how to use a gun and brass knuckles. And he isn’t above hiding an escaped convict.

Yet he also has genuine notions of right and wrong within his dark world where bread lines and desperation are just around the corner. Mostly, he just wants to stay out of trouble, he claims. “No, I’m not out to rid our streets of crime and corruption. All I want to do is pour some moon, make a little dough, and if the stars align, spend a bit of time with a certain five-foot-two-inch coat checker whose eyes haven’t seen enough of the real world to stop sparkling.”

Of course, that’s not how life works out in Jersey Leo’s underworld, where his street name is “Snowball.” He makes a solemn promise to a cop-killer friend now facing execution in the electric chair, and soon that promise has him running from crooked cops and trying to flee Philadelphia with a speakeasy siren named Myra. She was his grammar-school crush, he’s reasonably sure he loves her again, and he wants to take her to the West Coast, far from the murdering crowd in Philly. Yet there suddenly are more forces and complications at work than Snowball can comprehend or handle once he tries to scrape up their escape money.

Blind Moon Alley, the second Jersey Leo novel, is a thriller rich with thrills–and chills. (The series’ debut novel is Sugar Pop Moon, published last year.) John Florio is a fine writer with a smooth, taut style and tone that quickly bring to mind Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and even Robert B. Parker. ¬†Jersey Leo, however, is not a detective. He is just, in his words, “a genetic milkshake with one too many scoops of vanilla, a piano keyboard with no sharps or flats, a punch line to an inside joke that I’ve never been in on.” He might shoot you if he has to. Or, he might give you his last dollar if he knows you are having a harder time surviving than he is.

Si Dunn