Fans pick 60 books like In Plain Sight

Have you ever read a book and said to yourself, dang, I wish I’d have thought of that? Well that’s just what happened when I found this book. Jaffe’s gumshoe, Marshall Drummond, is a detective straight from the 1940s. The only problem? It’s not 1940 and Drummond is, well, dead—dead as a doornail. But like a true hardboiled detective, Drummond doesn’t let a little thing like the big sleep stop him. Instead, he haunts the office of Max Porter, making the man’s life far more interesting—and intriguing—than it otherwise would have ever been. Another great thing about this book is how Jaffe weaves history into the story—something I like to do in my own writing. Set in North Carolina, this book is just what it promises: fun, funny, suspenseful, and scary!   

When most people think of noir, they think of a cynical fedora-wearing, trenchcoated detective wisecracking his way through a mystery, and while that is part of the genre, it isn’t the whole of it. Noir can be funny, but that humor needs to be dark, and cynicism is a definite component. All of that is included in this book and it’s delivered with an Irish twist. Bruton’s hitman, Patrick Callen, who rides a bike through the streets of Dublin, is a man who likes lists: To-Do List: Kill Henry O’Neil, Meet the Bronze Man, Buy Food, Sleep with Olivia, Bike Shop, Visit Ma. But when he finds a baby on the job, it interrupts both his list and his life. A hitman and a baby—if that doesn’t make you want to read the book, nothing will.

I have to admit, this book is a bit of a personal indulgence. I’ve always been fascinated by the swamps of Louisiana and the mysteries that hide in those murky waters. Add a human arm in the mouth of an alligator and you’ve definitely gotten my attention. Some day I’m going to write a book that is set there—I just haven’t figured out a storyline yet—but when I do, I hope it’s half as good as BJ Bourg’s first book in his Clint Wolf series. I know it’s a cliché, but this book really did grab me from the start and, I guarantee, the end of the first chapter will haunt you, just as it haunts Clint Wolf.   

My last book may seem like an odd choice, but, as they say, there is a method to my madness. Erle Stanly Gardner created a character in the form of Perry Mason that became a television icon in the late 50s with more than 270 episodes. However, simply put, the man on the television is nothing like the man in the books. So, if you want to know the real Perry Mason, you need to start with the first book in Gardner’s series:The Case of the Velvet Claws. This book is noir at it’s finest, by a master of the craft, with a femme fatal that defines the term. This is my favorite of all the Gardner books because it delivers a hardboiled punch—one that’s not easy to forget.   

Set in the seventies, a sexy female celebrity journalist sets out to find the reason for the break-up of a singing/comedy duo alá Lewis and Martin and uncovers a gruesome murder. Full of sex, drugs, and behind-the-scenes entertainment business debauchery, this story is told in a masterful way that is funny, frightful, suspenseful, and disturbing. A truly unique noir tale where no one comes away clean. Just how I like it. And written by my good friend and former employer, Rupert Holmes. The same guy that gave us “Escape, The Pina Colada Song” and the Broadway hit The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

In this first book of The Shill Trilogy struggling actress Jane Innes is seduced by a handsome new arrival in her acting class. He admits he’s a con man and needs Jane to pose as a rich, carefree heiress to fulfill his intricate scam. I loved this book because Jane, being desperate for money, and love, agrees to help the con man that has seduced her. Is it love or money the reason she agrees? I believe there is no black and white, good or evil in characters when it comes to morals. I enjoy stories that show us the gray in us, and how one can be swayed to the dark side through desperation if given the right opportunity.

I have loved this novel since first reading it in college—probably when I should have been studying for exams! 

Double Indemnity is one of the first and best American noir novels and served as the basis for the 1944 film by the same name. The novel taught me about the classic noir trap: a basically good but flawed man helps a basically bad but attractive woman in an effort to murder her husband, the good/flawed man hoping to end up with both the woman and the money.

But things seem fated to go wrong, and what starts out as a bleak tale ends up even bleaker—at the dark end of a one-way street. Since reading this powerful novel—and seeing the equally powerful film with its crackling dialogue by famed hardboiled crime writer Raymond Chandler—I have never looked at life quite the same way again.

We’re film noir fanatics, so naturally, we’d be interested in an exhaustive history of the greatest modern example of the form. But Wasson sets his sights even higher. As the subtitle indicates, he also documents the end of multiple eras in the movie business.

Chinatown (1974) marked the close of the “New Hollywood” period when artists called the shots, as well as serving as a lush final example of big studio filmmaking, with all of Paramount’s resources in service of what’s universally acknowledged as one of the finest screenplays ever written. Wasson makes the action behind the scenes as compelling as the mystery on the screen.

I love film noir and have written and published on it. I’ve also read numerous academic books on noir. But for those who want all the information and less of the jargon, no one does it better than Eddie Muller, author and host of Turner Movie Classics’ Noir Alley and president of the Film Noir Foundation, which hosts annual noir screening events in multiple US cities and publishes a wonderful magazine for members.

Dark City is full of amazing, restored photos alongside informative texts, great for reading and rereading. I keep mine on a coffee table.

Author Louise Doughty's books demonstrate that psychological suspense and crime novels can be literary fiction. Platform Seven is well-written but opens in a location that’s anything but inspiring – Peterborough railway station. What could possibly happen here? But we’re soon drawn into the isolation and menacing sense that it’s something very bad indeed. This novel could be called a ‘genre splice’ – part domestic noir and part ghost story. Doughty’s genius is laying the breadcrumb trail of clues to keep the reader turning the pages and staying ahead of Lisa, the main character. She seems to be unaware of what’s really going on, or perhaps chooses to ignore the signs. An emotional story with a theme of coercive behaviour for book clubs to discuss.