This book started off as a mystery as to who even wrote it...the author is listed as Ronald M. James (copyright 2017), but it is also apparently republished by James Milward, also in 2017. I like getting to know my authors before I launch in - I find it helps me get a feel for what I'm about to read. No such luck in this case. Just confusion.

The first page alone took me several reads to find the rhythm and get a feel for the writing style. Words were fit together like pieces of a separate puzzle. Sentences were a marriage of heady, overreaching vocabulary mixed with elementary aged style. Once I got past the initial chaos of the writing, I tried to settle into a pace where I could read the book like you'd look at a hidden picture poster...step back, squint a little bit, and try to pick up the meaning.

I have a major problem with any book that has clearly rushed to publication by skipping the editing stage. Basic grammar, spelling, and punctuation are some big pet peeves. This book managed to tweak on every one of them. To add to the obvious lack of spell check or basic proofreading, Sammy Shovel slips constantly between the first and third person, the past and present tense, and, apparently, the 1940's and the 1990's.

I found the author's attempt to force characters into dialect or culture both incredibly poorly done, and in many cases, outright offensive. Why every black character was written like Margaret Mitchell was penning Mammy is beyond this reader. A French maid starts out with a (terrible) French accent mixed with Spanish and a vague understanding of English, with disastrous and unbelievable results. And our (spoiler alert) nefarious Scotsman? Loaded with cliches from the other side of the pond, but utterly lacking any real personality.

What could be poignant references to detectives and movies of the past come across as supporting statements in a thesis on crime drama. Rather than letting an allusion speak for itself, the author backs up, forces some trite conversation about why the reference is relevant, and then moves on as though his character hadn't just jumped personalities.

Overall, the plot was unnecessarily drawn out, the characters were as shallow as a pond in a drought, and the writing was just painful to slug through. Mr. Milward (or Mr. James) might have found some love for Sammy Shovel in prior books, but he should either subject his tragic hero to an editor, or leave him in the pages of books gone by.