ISBN: 0345349474
ISBN 13: 9780345349477
By: Charles Willeford

Check Price Now


Adult Crime Crime Fiction Crime Noir Favorites Fiction Hard Boiled Noir Thriller To Read

About this book

Florida homicide detective Hoke Moseley's life suddenly went to bell one morning. His ex-wife had married a big-time pro ballplayer. His two teenage daughters moved in. And his lieutenant had dumped ever? unsolved murder in Miami on him. So Hoke decided to bail out stretch out on Singer Island, give up police work, and watch the ocean roll.But trouble wasn't going to let Hoke get away. Not a stone's throw from his laid-back new life, a slick, handsome psychopath was planning his next armed robbery. The heist would suck a curmudgeon retiree into a life of crime, blast a half-dozen people, off the planet, and leave nary a clue behind.It was a case right up Hoke's alley: weird enough to catch his attention, personal enough to make him mad, and twisted enough to make Hoke forget he didn't want to be a cop...a good guy in a world gone very, very bad.

Reader's Thoughts


The description on the back of the jacket begins with the line, “There comes a time in every detective's life when he's had enough.” After reading that, and not knowing anything about the character, Hoke Mosely, you might assume this story was about a law and order man pushed to the edge of sanity by the degenerate dredges of society, akin to a right-wing revenge fantasy like Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry or Charles Bronson as Paul Kersey in Death Wish. You’d be wrong, kind of, but you’d also be pleasantly surprised.What pushes Hoke Mosley to the edge isn’t so much the scum of the earth committing senseless acts of depravity—although there’s plenty of this; Willeford is delightfully unafraid of being politically incorrect in his depictions of police life—but more mundane, everyday problems: a teenage daughter who wants to drop out of high school, another daughter who develops an eating disorder, busywork at the office, financial strife, and a pregnant roommate/coworker who eats her eggs in the most excruciating way possible. All this leads Hoke to a nervous breakdown that takes him out of Miami and back to the sleepy rural Florida vacation community he grew up in, charged with only the mundane tasks of maintaining his father’s hotel in an effort to “simplify his life.”Meanwhile, adopting the same parallel narrative structure from Miami Blues, Willeford introduces us to Stanley, a retired auto-worker who disowns his family after they fail to rush to his aid when he’s falsely accused of molesting a child, and Troy, a self-described psychopath who enlists Stanley’s aid to get out of prison and later recruits Stanley for his gang/family (Troy also admits to being an admirer of Charles Manson), along with a struggling Barbadian painter, and an emotionally damaged and physically deformed stripper.The middle of the story dragged a little, and at first the premise of Hoke having a nervous breakdown seemed a little forced, but by the time you reach the climax, almost everything seems to come together brilliantly. Willeford has a gift for using minute but bizarre details to either set up jaw-dropping plot twists or hilarious diatribes that seem to stem from his own cynical grievances. Without giving too much away, the robbery gone awry—again an element repeated from Miami Blues—is one of the best, and most brutal chapters of crime fiction I’ve ever read. It might be his personal history as a decorated combat veteran, but the man knows how to write a gruesome gunshot wound.What I didn’t like: If there’s one criticism I have, it’s that he writes pretty weak female and minority characters. A reoccurring theme between this book and Miami Blues is whores who are good at housework, weak-willed and irrational, they sit around being told what to do by a man who abuses and exploits them, although this could be Willeford commenting on the degrading effects on the psyche of life in the sex industry. Or he could just be a misogynist.What I did like: The parallels. He jokes about this with a throwaway line in the last chapter, but I really enjoyed the way Willeford juxtaposes events in Stanley’s/Troy’s timeline with events in Hoke’s. He emulates but differentiates the climax and the ending of this book from the ending and climax of Miami Blues. Ellita, Hoke’s partner, attempts to apprehend Troy by the book, firing a warning shot when she attempts to apprehend him, and she’s punished for this, but when Hoke encounters Junior at the end of Miami Blues, he takes the law into his own hands, executing him coldly and deliberately. At the beginning of the book as Hoke’s family falls apart, Troy’s family assembles, and at the end of the book as Hoke’s family rejoins in resolution, Troy’s family disperses in bloody carnage. We’re left not entirely sure if Troy really wanted to live happily ever after at The Hotel Oluffsson (I’ve been there!) with his family/gang, or if he merely snapped when a seemingly routine robbery went haywire due to mundane details overlooked, thus serving as a callback to the inciting incident of Hoke’s nervous breakdown.


An accomplished work that reminds me of certain movies by acclaimed directors wherein I admire the craft but am not fully absorbed by the story. However, I will always remember the painter whose only skill is to draw a perfectly even stripe of white.

Larry Webber

A unique and vivid tale!


Weird book. Not sure that it qualifies as a mystery. Not much of a mystery to it. Just two stories that eventually intersect, with the detective in the story being the point of intersection.

John Richardson

Perfect pulp fiction.


Overwhelmed by an abundance of cold cases Miami homicide detective Hoke Moseley retreats into a fugue state, abandons his pregnant partner/housemate Ellita Sanchez and his two daughters to seek a simpler life managing his father’s apartment complex in Riviera Beach.Hoke soon finds the simple life is easier to envision than to envelop.Like others in the series, "Sideswipe" is packed with action and wry, off-beat humor. Elmore Leonard says no one writes a better crime novel. Who am I to argue with that?

Suzanne Eisenhauer

I cannot possibly read any more of this book, it's simply too terrible to continue. I'm trying to figure out where this illusive 4 star rating came from. This book is like having a conversation with my Mother -- The Queen of Minutiae. Everyone talks and talks and talks, but doesn't say anything. 1/5 of the way through this and there still doesn't seem to be a plot of any kind. Ughhhh:(

Igor Trushevsky

The Hoke Moseley novels are about a detective, but they are not novels in the detective genre. Charles Willeford never dangles any clues or misdirection in front of the readers, and the actual crime that needs to be solved doesn't happen until the tail end of the book. Instead, he holds the readers interest with remarkably vivid portraits of his characters, various locales in Miami area and of course the themes he brings up (How easily decent (but gullable) people can sometimes be turned to crime, the american dream, sub-urban life, modern art, mid-life crisis, public education, etc.). Charles keeps a swift pace and never lingers on any one particular issue, always rewarding the readers with more interesting tid-bits to chew on, but admittedly, readers accustomed to more formulaic crime novels will be left in the cold (not only does the crime only happen at the end of the book, but for the majority of the novel Hoke is on leave from the force and very intent on never coming back). This novel challenges the conventions of the set formulas and challenges the reader (if only so slightly), but hey, I would expect nothing less from a literary-genre novel.


Hoke Moseley is possibly the best detective in literary history to never do any work and always seem to end up solving the crime


Following a breakdown of sorts, Hoke leaves Miami for Singer Island, where he hopes to create a less complicated life for himself. (Hint: it involves a wardrobe of wash-and-wear jumpsuits.) Meanwhile, psycho Troy Louden is planning a big robbery with a very unlikely gang. As I was reading, I kept thinking that this one wasn't as good as the previous series installment, New Hope for the Dead, partly because Singer Island is less interesting than Miami, partly because the two plotlines are unconnected for most of the book. But, damn it, Willeford is just so good. I'm a sucker for his deadpan humor, for the way the characters will place the same importance on a game of Monopoly as they will on a murder. And the summation--"Hoke had learned that there was no way a man could simplify his life"--is just so perfect and true.

Patrick McCoy

Charles Willeford is a very engaging writer, technically his novels are considered crime or noir fiction, but I think those are reductive labels. I always feel like I learn something new when I read one of his books, and his characters are memorable and seem very believable and true to life as well. Sideswipe (1987) is a great example of this. This is the third Hoke Moseley novel and he is not your conventional hero: divorced, broke, balding, wears dentures, single father of two adolescent girls and at the onset of this novel is going through a nervous breakdown. His pregnant partner Elita Sanchez moves him into his father's house in Singer Island, his birthplace and his version of peace on earth. Moseley decides to retire from the force and manage a small long term stay hotel. During this time he befriends an entomologist, nicknamed "Itai," a professor who is on sabbatical writing a novel and whose speciality is the Ethiopian horse fly. The professor got his nickname from his colleagues after he returned from a year in Kyoto at a zen monastery and couldn't stop talking to people about it (by the way "itai" means "painful" in Japanese). Itai brings to his attention that his daughter Aileen is bulimic and Moseley has deal with that mess. But detective work is in his blood as he helps the local police solve a series of art thefts in an expensive luxury condominium. Here, like in The Burnt Orange Heresy, he can show off his knowledge about art and collecting have some fun at the expense of the art world. This can also be seen in his treatment of the primitive, non objectionist artist from Barbados. There is a parallel story taking place about a retired autoworker, Stanley Sinkiewicz, from Detroit now living in Florida who through a series of events meets a true criminal psychopath in Troy Louden. That's not to say that Troy doesn't have his charms, and manages to put together a crew with Sinkiewicz and the painter to make a stake on a big heist so that they can go to Haiti to get his grotesquely disfigured stripper girl friend plastic surgery,. Getting back to Sinkiewicz, he's no ordinary retiree. He has a cane in which he keeps cyanide pellets to poison dangerous seeming neighborhood dogs. The robbery goes bad and several people are needlessly killed in the melee and Moseley is called into action by his boss and end up solving the crime. Did I mention that humor abounds aplenty? This gives Miami Blues a run for its money as my favorite Willeford novel.


Willeford continues to demonstrate a real talent for characterization and ability to establish a sense of place. He paints a vivid picture of late 80s Miami and the unique collection of personalities that inhabit it. Willeford also possesses the ability to write with effective brevity; addressing issues like life and career burnout, family dynamics, and post-employment ennui within a tight page-count. A brisk, fun summer read.


Really fucking awesome. This writer just became my favorite crime writer by far, and I've only read three of his books. Really detached but accurate psychological portraits within surreal, comical plot-lines. Never feels mean, but often feels dark and strange. Always feels human, though never emotional. I love it.


Haha! This guy cracks me up! Another hit in the Hoke Moseley series, a humane story sliding along with charcteristic sudden kinks in it. All of a sudden things are not the same anymore, not turning back. Marvellous.


Of the three Hoke Moseley books so far, this was the weakest; only because the other two books had much more going on. That noted, it was nothing but pleasure to breeze through; it went so fast and easy it was as though I was not reading at all and sometimes, sometimes, I like to work for my brain food. I enjoy Willeford's easy style and bright imagination so much that I'm tempted to start the 4th and final Hoke Moseley book, The Way We Die Now; but I will save that for my trip to Florida next month.

Share your thoughts

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *