There was no taking it back now, no do-overs. Never. He had said yes, so he was going. There were storm clouds over Paradise as Jesse Stone looked out at the Atlantic and remembered his last night in L. A., staring out into that other ocean. What Jesse thought was that water color in sunlight was beside the point. At night, all oceans were black. He understood that a lot of people, maybe, most, believed the oceans symbolized endless possibility, better days, bright futures. Jesse knew better. He took a sip of his Black Label and soda. He was alone, with only the ocean and his regrets for company. You can gaze at the road ahead of you all you want, but your future is in your rear-view mirror.
-Reed Farrel Coleman, Robert B, Parker's Blind Spot: A Jesse Stone Novel
You would have to be blind to miss the recent trend of pinch-hitting author's carrying on the characters and stories of deceased (or just tired) authors. Robert B. Parker died in January of 2010. This is the tenth book published since his death that headlines his name but was written by someone else. I've read seven of them, and actually, if you liked Parker's style, which I do, those were pretty good. Not so sure about this one. Parker's typical sentence contained about eight words, and his typical paragraph about three sentences. With a leisurely day of reading, you could finish one of his books. I don't remember anything like the above paragraph in the fifty some Parker books that I've read. Stay tuned. Maybe I'll report back after I finish reading it.