Mosley churns out 2-3 books a year and unfortunately the wear and tear on his imagination is beginning to show. The one concept of his that hadn't seemed to jump the shark was his Socrates Fortlow series, featuring a wise ex-con living in the street of L.A.
I love this character, his world and the stories Mosley has traditionally applied to them. A little of the magic has worn off in this third installment, but not enough to stay away. The book looks like it maintains the short-story-collection charmof the previous books, but really it's just a more chopped-up longer, more traditional narrative, making it a book with significant chapters instead of separate stories that build to a theme or climax. It also contains a more spartan, less colorful style and a cast of characters that, when coupled with little description beyond one-liners, is unwieldly and tedious.
It's a fast read, and I say that as a slow reader. I love the series, but instead of getting better, it dipped. Mosley offers a book that artists sometimes create that feature well-known characters that they don't really want to interact with anymore. A little deus ex machina, a little over-the-top confrontation, and then the loose-thread offer of life-change that ensures that the character will never again be the character you know and love. If you're a fan, read it, but expect it to level off or dip, not exceed.