The curse of writing about Las Vegas is that it’s hard to avoid clichés about luck or chance or the roll of the dice. And the fact is, that’s the provenance of tourists anyway; locals don’t care much about such things. They know they live in a city built by mobsters to rip off rubes. If residents want to gamble — and most don’t — they hit up the casinos off the Strip, where at least you don’t have to pay to park.
starts with the co-owner of a fictional casino catching one in the temple out in what used to be the middle of nowhere — Red Rock Canyon — but which is now just an Instagram post away, it’s a bang-up way to get things going. That it’s staged to look like a suicide is even more compelling. Surely this won’t be a Las Vegas novel where everything hinges on antiquated notions about mystical odds, not with this kind of blackness.
If that’s not enough, Crissy’s estranged doppelgänger sister, Betsy, has just moved to Las Vegas, along with Betsy’s newly adopted 13-year-old hacker daughter, Marisa. They’re joining Betsy’s new boyfriend, Frankie, an executive at an obviously dubious crypto outfit called Futurium, which is positioned to buy Buckingham Palace. Convenient.
Late in the novel, for instance, when Crissy is faced with a mounting death toll, including the cryptic loss of a lover, a friend offers her a gun and her response is:“This is a paraphrase, but Chekhov said if you reveal a gun in the first act, it best go off by the third.”
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Source: screenrant - 🏆 7. / 94 Read more »