Private Vegas, by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro

Two and a half stars (of five)

Patterson takes a real gamble in shifting his Private series to the city of gaudy lights and glamour, hoping it’s not a bust. Jack Morgan is back with his original Private team, working their cases in Los Angeles (no, this is no typo). Two men with diplomatic immunity have been killing women and getting away with it, while Morgan and the LAPD can only look on in awe. In a case closer to home, a serial arsonist is blowing up high-end cars, including Morgan’s own, leaving Private to find the person behind the fires, especially after a body turns up in the wreckage. Meanwhile, one of the Private team is on trial for assault and things are not looking good. Could Private be on its last legs and what does Morgan’s brother have to do with recent goings-on? Remembering that the title speaks of Vegas, Patterson weaves a loose storyline where Morgan’s assistant investigates a man who lures women to Las Vegas to partake in a high-intensity (and costly) course aimed at marrying filthy-rich octogenarians, helping them along to their respective mansions in the sky, and cashing in on a substantial ‘cut’ in the action. A mislabelled novel with interesting ideas, but totally misses the mark on the Vegas nightlight and excitement. Drab and a tease that flops for Patterson and Private fans.

After a string of decent novels, Patterson is back to his old tricks, writing sub-par stories that use the author’s name to sell copies. This book is more aptly called Private L.A., The Second for its geographic sedentary nature in the City of Angels. Where are the craps tables, the Cirque shows, and the countless street vendors? Where are the lights and the wonderful hotel settings that could really sell the city and the storylines? Missing, like many of the other domestic Private books. It is almost as though Patterson’s only successes come from using authors off the North American continent to spice up the stories. And here I pined for a Private: Canada. Now, I am almost happy he has not gone that route (yet, at least). Patterson had better learn when to fold ’em, as he is on a losing streak that even Kenny Rogers cannot turn around.

For shame, Mr. Patterson on another silly attempt to line your pockets and leave your fans rolling snake-eyes.

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