by john boden
Tony Knighton is a fellow Pennsylvanian. He's a man with a resume that is even more impressive than his writing and that says something. I've been a fan since he sent me his collection last year, or maybe the year before that--I'm at the point in my age where time is a thing that scurries faster than mice from a burning barn.
His latest novel/novella, hell, I never know anymore--Three Hours Past Midnight, is a tightly gripping crime story. With wonderfully rendered characters and all the smell and textures of the big city. Warts and all. Our narrator and his partner in this crime, George set out to steal a safe. It belongs to a rich and enigmatic politician. They manage to pull off their caper but then things go sour. When our man goes to meet up with George and find out what was in the safe upon cracking, he finds a dead George and no safe. The story takes off from there. Through car chases and grimy alleys, stinking ditches and runs into nasty bitches. There are shoot-outs and fistfights and all of it points to a darker crime than stealing a damn safe. Knighton writes a wonderful thriller here. Pulse-racing pacing (say that a few times fast) and just amazingly believable characters. It unfolds in your mind like a late night movie, one that ought to star Dennis Farina or Harvey Keitel. It oozes grit and swagger and leaves blood all over your hands. I highly recommend this and the other works this man delivers. Three Hours Past Midnight is available from Crime Wave Press 
GOING UNDERGROUND: HORRORS WHICH LURK BELOW….Comments are closed.
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