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Stanley Moodrow #3
Forced Entry
A real estate entrepreneur and a drug dealer hope to hit the big money by purchasing three rent-controlled apartment buildings in Jackson Heights, in New York City, illegally running the tenants out, and then turning the buildings co-op. The tenants of one building put up a fight, however, with feckless, stolid, retired NYPD cop Stanley Moodrow on their side.
384 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
2 people are currently reading
21 people want to read
About the author
Stephen Solomita
39 books12 followersStephen Solomita (b. 1943) is a prolific author of thrillers. Born in Bayside, Queens, he worked as a cab driver before becoming a novelist in the late 1980s. His first novel, A Twist of the Knife (1988), won acclaim for its intimate depiction of New York’s rough patches, its gritty style, and its dark vision of urban terrorism. This debut introduced Stanley Moodrow, a disaffected New York Police Department detective. Solomita wrote six more novels starring Moodrow, moving the character into a PI practice, and concluded the series with Damaged Goods (1996).
Solomita continued writing in the same hard-boiled style, producing tough, standalone novels such as Mercy Killing (2009) and Angel Face (2011). Under the pseudonym David Cray, he writes gentler thrillers such as Dead Is Forever (2004), a traditional mystery in the mode of Ellery Queen. His most recent novel is Dancer in the Flames (2012). Solomita continues to live and write in New York City.
aka David Cray.
Solomita continued writing in the same hard-boiled style, producing tough, standalone novels such as Mercy Killing (2009) and Angel Face (2011). Under the pseudonym David Cray, he writes gentler thrillers such as Dead Is Forever (2004), a traditional mystery in the mode of Ellery Queen. His most recent novel is Dancer in the Flames (2012). Solomita continues to live and write in New York City.
aka David Cray.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
January 24, 2008
Stephen Solomita, Forced Entry (Avon, 1990)
Stephen SOlomita has been laboring in the background of the thriller genre for over a decade without anyone really noticing his existence. His books are solid, easy to read, and a little on the genre-writing side, but that's no reason to give him any less air time than, say, Tom Clancy or John Grisham, both of whom suffer from the same drawbacks as does Solomita.
In Forced Entry, we're introduced to two very nasty characters, Marty Blanks and Marek Najowski, who are hatching a plan to force rent-control tenents out of Jackson Heights brownstones so they can tear down the buildings and sell the lots for huge profits. (Solomita notes in a small foreword that this is a common practice in New York, but that his particular slumlords aren't based on anyone in particular.) One of the buildings they pick happens to contain a tenant whose niece is a legal aid lawyer, and that legal aid lawyer happens to be dating ex-cop private eye Stanley Moodrow, six feet of bad attitude who ends up getting involved in trying to figure out why a previously crime-free neighborhood is suddenly inhabited by hookers, dealers, and other various assorted types of New York-style lowlifes.
Like most middle-of-the-road genre novels, Forced Entry does have a few drawbacks. Marek Najowski had the potential to be a really absorbing character, the kind of guy who makes an author's reputation, but Solomita never gives his character the development time it deserves. And too many minor characters in the book pop up, get described, and then die in some interesting and fun manner. (And by described, I'm not talking about the Stephen King-patented "here's two lines about a character who's going to die," I mean a whole chapter that ends with the character's death.) But as I said before, the difference between Stephen Solomita and some novelists who are considered world-class has a lot less to do with quality than it does with promotion; if you're a fan of the rougher side of the thriller genre (think Rex Miller in a playful mood), then Solomita should be right up your alley. (...). ** 1/2
Stephen SOlomita has been laboring in the background of the thriller genre for over a decade without anyone really noticing his existence. His books are solid, easy to read, and a little on the genre-writing side, but that's no reason to give him any less air time than, say, Tom Clancy or John Grisham, both of whom suffer from the same drawbacks as does Solomita.
In Forced Entry, we're introduced to two very nasty characters, Marty Blanks and Marek Najowski, who are hatching a plan to force rent-control tenents out of Jackson Heights brownstones so they can tear down the buildings and sell the lots for huge profits. (Solomita notes in a small foreword that this is a common practice in New York, but that his particular slumlords aren't based on anyone in particular.) One of the buildings they pick happens to contain a tenant whose niece is a legal aid lawyer, and that legal aid lawyer happens to be dating ex-cop private eye Stanley Moodrow, six feet of bad attitude who ends up getting involved in trying to figure out why a previously crime-free neighborhood is suddenly inhabited by hookers, dealers, and other various assorted types of New York-style lowlifes.
Like most middle-of-the-road genre novels, Forced Entry does have a few drawbacks. Marek Najowski had the potential to be a really absorbing character, the kind of guy who makes an author's reputation, but Solomita never gives his character the development time it deserves. And too many minor characters in the book pop up, get described, and then die in some interesting and fun manner. (And by described, I'm not talking about the Stephen King-patented "here's two lines about a character who's going to die," I mean a whole chapter that ends with the character's death.) But as I said before, the difference between Stephen Solomita and some novelists who are considered world-class has a lot less to do with quality than it does with promotion; if you're a fan of the rougher side of the thriller genre (think Rex Miller in a playful mood), then Solomita should be right up your alley. (...). ** 1/2
January 17, 2020
3.5/5
So a couple of guys, who were up to no good, started making trouble in the Jackson Heights neighbourhood, and as usual it's all for money. How do they go about this? By any means at their disposal. Arson, rape, burglaries, drug dealers, prostitutes, vandalism; all kindsa shit. This is a grim and gritty book, but there's hope in it, too, despite the grimy feel of the whole thing.
At the center of this chaos and corruption is Stanley Moodrow, a former cop turned private detective, a guy willing to bend a few rules to get to the bottom of things. He's like every other big, hulking brute with some brains and a gun without the shiny badge to adorn his belt, who can't fit comfortably inside a Honda Civic. He's a caricature we've all seen a hundred times before, but he's competently written here.
The plot devolves into a series of occurrences for a while throughout the middle portion of the book, which works fine here, and it doesn't become too repetitive, as the crimes committed by newly introduced side characters are varied, and the characters themselves feel different from one another, and feel real at the same time. Druggies, Irish hitmen, prostitutes (also with varied personalities), and the residents of Jackson Heights, the Koreans, Pakistanis, more Irishmen, and others--they all feel authentic and real. This is a well-written thriller and its characters are its strongest attribute. So it is unfortunate that its villains are its weakest link. Neither of them are all that menacing. A little fucked-up, perhaps, but they're borderline cartoons, especially the last one standing in the climax.
Still, Solomita writes well, and I like his style. He plots competently and crafts some grand characters. I would gladly read another book from him if I found one.
So a couple of guys, who were up to no good, started making trouble in the Jackson Heights neighbourhood, and as usual it's all for money. How do they go about this? By any means at their disposal. Arson, rape, burglaries, drug dealers, prostitutes, vandalism; all kindsa shit. This is a grim and gritty book, but there's hope in it, too, despite the grimy feel of the whole thing.
At the center of this chaos and corruption is Stanley Moodrow, a former cop turned private detective, a guy willing to bend a few rules to get to the bottom of things. He's like every other big, hulking brute with some brains and a gun without the shiny badge to adorn his belt, who can't fit comfortably inside a Honda Civic. He's a caricature we've all seen a hundred times before, but he's competently written here.
The plot devolves into a series of occurrences for a while throughout the middle portion of the book, which works fine here, and it doesn't become too repetitive, as the crimes committed by newly introduced side characters are varied, and the characters themselves feel different from one another, and feel real at the same time. Druggies, Irish hitmen, prostitutes (also with varied personalities), and the residents of Jackson Heights, the Koreans, Pakistanis, more Irishmen, and others--they all feel authentic and real. This is a well-written thriller and its characters are its strongest attribute. So it is unfortunate that its villains are its weakest link. Neither of them are all that menacing. A little fucked-up, perhaps, but they're borderline cartoons, especially the last one standing in the climax.
Still, Solomita writes well, and I like his style. He plots competently and crafts some grand characters. I would gladly read another book from him if I found one.
August 10, 2020
A surprisingly sensitive and thoughtful story of criminal justice focusing on tenants in predatory housing situations — intense and violent but still as deeply empathetic as Margaret Millar books / as firmfooted about the exploitation and horror of contemporary real estate as a political tract.
Amazed at the author’s total avoidance of macho thriller tropes. Early in the book, the protagonist’s girlfriend, a Legal Aid lawyer, discusses a deeply disturbing rape trial she was involved in. She talks about her anger, how she sought justice, surprising all the dinner guests. In the next scene, the couple comes home from dinner and prepares to have sex. But the author stays in her POV as she watches her lover undress: “[...]The difference — the ultimate injustice — in size between men and women passed quickly through her consciousness. He was monstrously big; she could exert no physical force against him. To voluntarily accept that surrender; to knowingly be that vulnerable — she could not complete the act without trust [...]” Maybe I haven’t read enough crime fiction, but to withhold a sex scene in favor of a secondary character’s musings on sexual injustice, the huge part that trust plays, especially to a woman involved in criminal justice.... pretty good stuff. Moodrow, the stoic lead, also barely fits the macho mold — the author lets him fail in embarrassing ways, ruining his masculine front, and just moves on. All in all, a surprisingly progressive novel of violence and melodrama.
Amazed at the author’s total avoidance of macho thriller tropes. Early in the book, the protagonist’s girlfriend, a Legal Aid lawyer, discusses a deeply disturbing rape trial she was involved in. She talks about her anger, how she sought justice, surprising all the dinner guests. In the next scene, the couple comes home from dinner and prepares to have sex. But the author stays in her POV as she watches her lover undress: “[...]The difference — the ultimate injustice — in size between men and women passed quickly through her consciousness. He was monstrously big; she could exert no physical force against him. To voluntarily accept that surrender; to knowingly be that vulnerable — she could not complete the act without trust [...]” Maybe I haven’t read enough crime fiction, but to withhold a sex scene in favor of a secondary character’s musings on sexual injustice, the huge part that trust plays, especially to a woman involved in criminal justice.... pretty good stuff. Moodrow, the stoic lead, also barely fits the macho mold — the author lets him fail in embarrassing ways, ruining his masculine front, and just moves on. All in all, a surprisingly progressive novel of violence and melodrama.
November 18, 2024
What I thought and hoped would be A Charles Bronson, "Death Wish 3" kind of book, wasn't. More a mainstream exploiter that just didn't push the right buttons for me. Lots of talk about lease laws and real estate. Long drawn out talk about plea bargains as well. There were some decent bits here and there, but still, didn't thrill me.
November 16, 2024
This is the third book in the series of Stanley Woodrow. I've found this book (and the others) to be quite entertaining. I hope there are more. It seems the author may be a little under the radar.
Want to read
September 19, 2018Synopsis: retired NY cop Stanley Moodrow helps tenants fight conversion of their apartment building into condos.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews