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Miami criminal attorney Jack Swyteck is back (The Pardon; Beyond Suspicion). His best friend's brother, ex-thug Tatum Knight, stands to inherit a fortune -- $48 million -- if four other people die. Now Jack has to find out if his client is an innocent man or a killer.
Dangle $46 million in front of six people and tell them the last one standing gets it all. From that shopworn yet undeniably tantalizing premise springs Grippando's latest thriller starring Miami attorney Jack Swyteck. The big pot of money comes from wealthy divorcee Sally Fenning, who leaves an enormous estate following her murder. Not only is her death suspicious, the terms of her will are insidiously cunning. None of the six heirs, all people Fenning despised, can collect until all but one has either died or renounced their share of the inheritance. The common denominator is that all were connected to the murder of Fenning's daughter five years earlier. There is Fenning's ex-husband, his divorce attorney, the prosecutor who failed to bring charges against any suspect, the newspaper reporter who wrote about the case and a mystery man who can't be immediately located. Swyteck's client, hitman Tatum Knight, is the only one not connected to the little girl's murder, though his tie to Fenning is odious in its own right: Fenning tried to hire him to kill her, but he steadfastly denies taking the job. As expected, someone starts knocking off heirs. Those who survive are brutally intimidated into dropping their claim on the estate. Swyteck, meanwhile, scrambles to find out who's behind it all while balancing a love affair on the side. Grippando (Beyond Suspicion) handles his eighth thriller, his third featuring Swyteck, with workmanlike dexterity. As a protagonist, Swyteck is likable, yet there is little to distinguish him from the current throng of attorney-heroes: he's white, refined but not prissy, fighting off middle age. Yet his adventures are comfortingly enjoyable. Despite including a pointless trip to Africa's Ivory Coast, Grippando's latest lives up to its promise as a $46-million game of survival. 8-city author tour. (July 8) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
More Reviews and RecommendationsAs the old cliché goes, “write what you know.” Former lawyer James Grippando has certainly taken this bit of wisdom to heart with his mega-successful courtroom thrillers, many of them starring Miami defense attorney Jack Swyteck. Time and again, this bestselling author has proven that he not only knows the law but he knows how to conjure an expertly paced tale of suspense.
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November 12, 2008: Not a twist that I expected, but one that I loved! Quickly paced and completely enjoyable. I will be looking this author up again!
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May 12, 2003: Sally Fenning was being stalked but she never told the police and it is this man who she believes broke into her home, knifed her and killed her daughter. The police never apprehended the killer and Sally's marriage fell apart under the weight of guilt. She married an older man and after two years according to the prenuptial agreement, she was worth forty-six million dollars.
James Grippando's version of Agatha Christie's And Than There Were None is an action packed thriller. Readers won't know who the killer is until the author chooses to reveal it because there are so many suspects with forty-six million motives. There is no honor among thieves as the potential heirs play dirty tricks and one even murders the competition. LAST TO DIE shows how far people will go to inherit a fortune which is a sad indictment on the heirs selling their souls as the author intended it to be. This haunting thriller will long be remembered because the stalker, killer, and heir turn out to be the one person it seems incapable of killing Sally's daughter.
Harriet Klausner

Name:
James Grippando
Current Home:
Coral Gables, Florida
Date of Birth:
January 27, 1958
Place of Birth:
Waukegan, Illinois
Education:
B.A. with High Honors, University of Florida, 1980; J.D. with Honors, University of Florida, 1982
Awards:
Distinguished Author Award, Scranton University, 2005
Whether standing before the bench in a courtroom or penning one of his bestselling thrillers featuring defense attorney Jack Swyteck, James Grippando has a deep fascination with the law. He practiced as a trial lawyer for twelve years before shifting his career in a more literary direction. However, the decision was not the result of bitter disillusionment. "I actually liked practicing law," he explains on his web site. "I just wished I could do less of it. That may sound like a contradiction, but the problem with being a lawyer is that, if you get caught up in it, eventually you won't know anything about anything except what you happen to be working on at the moment."
As he contemplated leaving the law, Grippando set his sights on becoming a writer, a career shift not as drastic as one might imagine. "A trial lawyer is in many ways a story teller," he said in an essay in Mystery Scene magazine. "Still, I had no idea how to become a novelist... So, I set a couple of ground rules. First, I would do my writing on the sly, nights and weekends, while continuing to bill my obligatory two thousand hours a year. Second -- and this was by far the most important rule -- I was determined to keep it fun."
Both Grippando's legal expertise and his determination to "keep it fun" were readily apparent in his 1994 debut, The Pardon, a taut thriller that introduced Jack Swyteck, a brash young Miami criminal defense attorney who successfully defends an admitted killer -- only to find himself framed for his defendant's murder. Called "a bona fide blockbuster" by the Boston Herald, this well-plotted first novel marked Grippando as a writer to watch.
Despite the popularity of The Pardon, Grippando would not return Jack Swyteck to active duty for eight more years. His second novel, written while he was still practicing law, was a fast-paced crime thriller called The Informant. Shortly after it was published in 1996, he left his practice for full-time writing and published a string of well received stand-alones, including The Abduction, Under Cover of Darkness, and A King's Ransom.
Then, in 2002, Grippando revived Jack Swyteck, placing him at the center of Beyond Suspicion, a gripping courtroom drama involving an insurance scam and the Russian Mafia. Readers reacted so joyfully to Swyteck's return that the author has -- with very few exceptions -- kept attention focused on his beloved series protagonist. As the review journal Booklist put it : "Grippando, whose best thriller have been full of imagination and out-of-left-field surprises, looks like he's found a winner in the Swyteck series."
When he was a lawyer, one of Grippando's most prominent cases found him defending a group of chicken farmers against, according to his essay in Mystery Scene magazine, "the largest privately-held corporation in the world." The Wall Street Journal deemed the case "the catalyst for change in the $15 billion a year poultry industry."
Before becoming a writer, Grippando was on the fast track to becoming a partner at Steel Hector & Davis, the Miami law firm at which former Attorney General Janet Reno began her career.
Some interesting outtakes from our interview with Grippando:
"In this world of revolving doors, I'm what you might call a professional anomaly. I've had the same publisher (HarperCollins) and agent (Richard Pine, along with his father Artie until his death) since the start of my career. I've also had the same editor (Carolyn Marino) since my second novel. I treasure these relationships. It is because of them that I am able to do what I love for a living."
"My first published novel was actually inspired by a near arrest in a case of total mistaken identity. One night in October 1992, tired of staring at a blank computer screen, I went for a walk before going to bed. I got about three blocks from my house when, seemingly out of nowhere, a police car pulled up onto the grassy part of the curb in front of me. A cop jumped out and demanded to know where I was going. I told him that I was just out for a walk, that I lived in the neighborhood. He didn't seem to believe me. "There's been a report of a peeping Tom," he said. "I need to check this out." I stood helplessly beside the squad car and listened as the officer called in on his radio for a description of the prowler."Under six feet tall," I heard the dispatcher say, "early to mid-thirties, brown hair, brown eyes, wearing blue shorts and a white t shirt." I panicked inside. I was completely innocent, but it was exactly me! "And a mustache," the dispatcher finally added. I sighed with relief. I had no mustache. The cop let me go.
But as I walked home, I could only think of how close I'd come to disaster. Even though I was innocent, my arrest would have been a media event, and forever I would have been labeled as "the peeping Tom lawyer." It was almost 2 a.m. by the time I returned home, but I decided that I needed to write about this. I took the feeling of being wrongly accused to the most dramatic extreme I could think of. I wrote about a man hours away from execution for a crime he may not have committed. What I wrote that night became the opening scene of The Pardon."
"My first editor on everything I write is my wife, Tiffany, who was an English Lit major."
"I can't underestimate the impact Miami -- the city in which I live -- has had on my writing. Miami evokes all the right buzz words -- smart and sexy, young and beautiful -- but it also has a self-destructive quality that triggers the kind of fascination we have with a reckless youth. It is blessed with natural beauty, but it's threatened by developers. It has the gift of cultural diversity, but is plagued by ethnic tension. Its nightlife is unrivaled, but the threat of violence is never far enough away. There's glitz, there's money, there's the see-and-be-seen -- and then there are neighborhoods that seem straight out of the third world. You often hear it said that truth is stranger than fiction, and nowhere is that more true than in south Florida. Where else could the United States Attorney lose his job after losing a big case, getting drunk, and biting a stripper? But it's where I live, it's where I practiced law, and it will always be an inspiration to my writing.
What was the book that most influenced your life or your career as a writer?
I read the Pulitzer Prize-winning play A Man for All Seasons in high school, and it's unforgettable. It's the story of Sir Thomas More, who was tried for treason and beheaded after he refused on principle to sign an oath approving the marriage of King Henry VIII to Ann Boleyn. It stuck with me throughout my career as a lawyer, especially early-on, when I was young and naïve and appalled to discover how many witnesses lied under oath. People complain that lawyers are always trying to trip them up with their clever questions, but in my experience witnesses too often had to be tricked into telling the truth. In my most cynical moments as a trial lawyer, I'd go back to Sir Thomas Moore and the sanctity of an oath. And now, as a writer, I never forget how important it is to be honest with my readers.
What are your ten favorite books, and what makes them special to you?
What are some of your favorite films, and what makes them unforgettable to you?
What types of music do you like? Is there any particular kind you like to listen to when you're writing?
I never work to complete silence, at least not by choice. My tastes are very diverse, and my selection for any particular moment depends both on my mood and the mood I'm trying to create in my writing. I've even come around on some forms of rap -- some forms. About the only thing I cannot listen to when I work are the aggravating "catchy" tunes that force me to get up and change the station.
What are your favorite kinds of books to give -- and get -- as gifts?
The key to giving a book as a gift is to read it yourself before you give it. I've received many gifts from people with the best of intentions. They always say "I thought you would like this," but they haven't read it. When I finish a book, I usually go through my list of friends in my head and find someone else who would really enjoy it. I've rarely missed the mark, and friends who have done the same for me have turned me on to some really great books.
Do you have any special writing rituals? For example, what do you have on your desk when you're writing?
I live in south Florida, so I write in my backyard. My outdoor office has these essentials: a patio table and chair, a big shade umbrella, a laptop computer, a hammock, a hot tub, and a swimming pool. The cell phone is optional. For me a "normal" workday means putting on my oldest pair of shorts and favorite T-shirt, visiting the refrigerator every half hour, and explaining to my two-year-old daughter that she can't bang on the keyboard while daddy is trying to write a book. Early in my career, I often woke in the middle of the night to write. I try not to do that so much anymore, but you never know when inspiration is going to strike. For the most part, morning is my most productive writing time, and I try to finish every afternoon in time to coach my son's soccer team.
Many writers are hardly "overnight success" stories. How long did it take for you to get where you are today? Any rejection-slip horror stories or inspirational anecdotes?
Becoming a writer was never a goal for me -- it was a lifelong dream. In 1988, I was five years into the practice of law and tired of the fact that no one -- including judges -- seemed to be interested in any of the legal stuff I was writing. I also noted that the hottest show on television was L.A. Law, and the hottest book in the country was Scott Turow's Presumed Innocent. There seemed to be this insatiable public appetite for stories about lawyers written by lawyers. So I started writing, nights and weekends, still practicing law full time. Finally, after four years, I had a 250,000-word monster in the box that no publisher wanted. But my agent assured me that I had received -- get this -- the most encouraging rejection letters he had ever seen. With his encouragement, I wrote The Pardon over the next seven months, and it sold to HarperCollins in a weekend. It's now all over the world in over 20 languages. Don't you love happy endings?
What tips or advice do you have for writers still looking to be discovered?
I would encourage anyone who loves to write to give it a try. But you have to go in with your eyes open and realize that to make a career out of writing it does take some luck. People tell me that I have talent, and I know I work hard. But so do a lot of aspiring writers. The difference between them and me is that I found my first break. My advice to them is to keep looking. So maybe it's luck and perseverance.
The first question you should ask yourself is "why do I write?" For some people the answer is "because I have to." That's fine. For me, the answer is "I love it." At age eleven I wrote a comedy western and put my friends in it so they would sit and listen to me read it to them. In high school and college I was the guy who actually looked for courses that required you to write a paper. As a lawyer I published in more academic journals than most tenured law professors. I keep an "idea file" in my closet, and I'll never live long enough to write all the stories I want to write. It blows my mind that I actually get paid to do this. Truly. But my point is this: until you understand why you write, you'll have a hard time figuring out who you are as a writer.
Tatum Knight is a former contract killer. And he's Miami criminal defense lawyer Jack Swytek's newest client. Tatum is the older brother of Jack's best friend, Theo. Theo himself spent time on death row until Jack found the evidence to prove him innocent. Jack isn't so sure about Tatum.
A gorgeous young woman has been shot dead in her Mercedes on a Miami street. Sally Fenning was worth forty-eight million dollars when she died. Money had never made her happy, so she left it all to her enemies -- left it for them to fight over, that is. She named six heirs in her will, but no one gets a penny until all but one of the heirs is dead.
Jack alone knows that heir number six -- Tatum Knight -- is a professional killer. As the heirs begin to fall, Jack and his sidekick Theo are in a race against time to discover if Tatum is behind all the killing. Or is someone even more frightening, more dangerous the odds-on favorite to be the last to die?
Dangle $46 million in front of six people and tell them the last one standing gets it all. From that shopworn yet undeniably tantalizing premise springs Grippando's latest thriller starring Miami attorney Jack Swyteck. The big pot of money comes from wealthy divorcee Sally Fenning, who leaves an enormous estate following her murder. Not only is her death suspicious, the terms of her will are insidiously cunning. None of the six heirs, all people Fenning despised, can collect until all but one has either died or renounced their share of the inheritance. The common denominator is that all were connected to the murder of Fenning's daughter five years earlier. There is Fenning's ex-husband, his divorce attorney, the prosecutor who failed to bring charges against any suspect, the newspaper reporter who wrote about the case and a mystery man who can't be immediately located. Swyteck's client, hitman Tatum Knight, is the only one not connected to the little girl's murder, though his tie to Fenning is odious in its own right: Fenning tried to hire him to kill her, but he steadfastly denies taking the job. As expected, someone starts knocking off heirs. Those who survive are brutally intimidated into dropping their claim on the estate. Swyteck, meanwhile, scrambles to find out who's behind it all while balancing a love affair on the side. Grippando (Beyond Suspicion) handles his eighth thriller, his third featuring Swyteck, with workmanlike dexterity. As a protagonist, Swyteck is likable, yet there is little to distinguish him from the current throng of attorney-heroes: he's white, refined but not prissy, fighting off middle age. Yet his adventures are comfortingly enjoyable. Despite including a pointless trip to Africa's Ivory Coast, Grippando's latest lives up to its promise as a $46-million game of survival. 8-city author tour. (July 8) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
In Grippando's eighth book and the third to feature Miami attorney Jack Swyteck, Theo Knight asks Jack, his best friend, to represent his brother, Tatum, who is one of six people named in the will of murder victim Sally Fenning. Tatum, who has a reputation as a hit man, claims that Fenning tried to hire him to kill her. It soon turns out that Fenning had reasons to hate all six heirs, and the will contains a provision that only one person will inherit her fortune, the last surviving heir. One of the six cannot be located and is suspected of having killed Fenning's young daughter years earlier. As expected, the heirs begin to die, and Tatum falls under further suspicion. It is up to Swyteck to learn more about Fenning's past and find the killer. Some aspects of the book seem implausible, particularly how a missing heir can inherit the fortune, especially with the others being murdered. Otherwise, Grippando's style keeps the story moving and renders the legal aspects understandable. While not on the same level as Beyond Suspicion, this is still recommended for most collections. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 3/15/03.]-Joel W. Tscherne, Cleveland P.L. Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
A wild will turns its legatees into clay pigeons in Miami lawyer Jack Swyteck's latest outing. Sally Fenning's luckless first marriage ended in poverty, divorce, and homicide: A masked man broke into her house, attacked her, and drowned her four-year-old daughter Katherine. Five years later, her second marriage seems to have gone a lot better; a cagey prenup and prudent investments have left her $46 million richer. So why does she contact a hit man and ask him to kill her? If she's so devastated by Katherine's murder, why has she waited five years? And why does the will she leaves behind after she's shot to death on the freeway divide her entire estate among six people she didn't even like, with the stipulation that the whole pot will go to the last survivor? As the would-be heirs-Sally's ex Miguel Rios, his divorce lawyer Geraldo Colletti, Miami Tribune reporter Deirdre Meadows, assistant state attorney Mason Rudsky, small-time hoodlum Tatum Knight, and mysterious Alan Sirap-begin eyeing each other nervously, Swyteck (Beyond Suspicion, 2002, etc.), who wants nothing to do with the case, gets dragged into it by his best friend, Tatum's brother Theo, who insists that his brother didn't kill Sally, even though he's the hit man she pitched her own death to. Jack spins his wheels interminably filing suit against Rudsky to force him to disclose files on Katherine's unsolved murder and flying to the Ivory Coast to see Sally's sister Rene, a pediatrician working with Children First, so it's a good long time before the heirs predictably start to die and the fun (though not the logic, complexity, or surprise) begins. Forget Grisham. Grippando works in the James Patterson mold: high concepts,simple characters, prefab thrills, turbo-charged pacing, and utterly forgettable twists and turns. Author tour. Agent: Richard Pine
Loading...The rainstorm was blinding, and Sally was way behind schedule. She hadn't intended to be late, fashionably or otherwise. She just wasn't good with directions, and this wasn't exactly her neck of the woods.
Sheets of water pelted the windshield, sounding like marbles bouncing off glass. She adjusted the wipers, but they were already working at full speed. She couldn't remember rain like this in years, not since she and her first husband lost their restaurant to that no-name tropical storm.
Orange taillights flashed ahead. A stream of cars was inching down the highway at the speed of cooling lava. She slowed to somewhere below the school-zone limit, then checked her watch. Eleven twenty-five.
Damn. He'd just have to wait. She'd get there, eventually.
Their meeting had been arranged by telephone. They'd spoken only once, and his instructions were simple enough. Thursday, 11 P.M. Don't be late. She didn't dare reschedule, not even in this weather. This was her man. She was sure of it.
Just ahead, a neon sign blinked erratically, as if shaken by the storm. It was like trying to read an eye chart at the bottom of a lake, and she could only make out part of it: S-P-something-something-K-Y-apostrophe-S.
"Sparky's," she readaloud. This was the place. She steered off the highway and pulled into the flooded parking lot. Under all this water, she could only guess as to the exact location of the parking spot. She killed the engine and checked her face in the rearview mirror. Lightning flashed - a close one. It lit up the inside of her car and unleashed a crack of thunder that sent shivers down her spine. It frightened her, then triggered a bemused smile. How ironic would that have been? After all this planning, to get hit by lightning.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. No turning back now. Just go for it.
She jumped down from the car and started her mad dash across the parking lot in the pouring rain. Almost immediately a blast of wind snatched her umbrella from her hand and pitched it somewhere into the next county. Wearing no coat, she covered her head with her hands and just kept running, splashing with each footfall. In a matter of seconds she reached the door, soaked to her undergarments, her wet jeans and white blouse pasted to her body.
A muscle-bound guy wearing a Gold's Gym T-shirt was standing at the entrance, and he opened the door for her. "Wet T-shirt contest's not till tomorrow, lady."
"You wish," she said, then headed straight to the restroom to see if she could dry off. She looked in the mirror and gasped. Her nipples were staring back at her, right through her bra and wet blouse.
Good God!
She punched the hand dryer, hoping for hot air. Nothing. She tried again, and again, but to no avail. She reached for a paper towel, but the dispenser was empty. Toilet paper would have to do. She went to the stall, found a loose roll atop the tank, and proceeded to dab furiously from head to foot. It was single-ply paper, not terribly absorbent. She went through the entire roll. She exited the stall, took another look at her reflection in the mirror, and gasped even louder this time. Her entire body was covered with shredded remnants of cheap toilet paper.
You look like a milkweed.
She started laughing, not sure why. She laughed so hard it almost hurt. Then, with her hands braced on the edge of the sink, she leaned forward and hung her head. She could feel her emotional energy drifting up to that ever-present knot of tension at the base of her skull. Her shoulders started to heave, and the laughter turned to tears. She fought it off and quickly regained her composure.
"You are a total wreck," she said to her reflection.
She brushed off as much of the toilet paper as she could, fixed her makeup, and said the hell with it. Nothing was going to stop this meeting from happening. She took a deep breath for courage and exited into the bar.
The crowd surprised her, not so much its makeup, which was about what she'd expected, but more the simple fact that there was such a big crowd on a nasty night like this. A group of truckers was playing black-jack by the jukebox. Leather-clad bikers and their bleached-blond girlfriends had a monopoly on the pool table, as if waiting out the storm. T-shirts, jeans, and flannel shirts seemed to be the dress code for a seat at the bar. These folks were hard-core, and this was clearly a place that depended on its regulars.
"Can I help you, miss?" the bartender asked.
"Not just yet, thanks. I'm looking for someone."
"Yeah? Who?"
Sally hesitated, not exactly sure how to answer that. "Just, uh, sort of a blind date."
"That must be Jimmy," said one of the men at the bar.
The others laughed. Sally smiled awkwardly, the inside joke completely lost on her. The bartender explained, "Jimmy's the umpire in our softball league. They don't come any blinder."
"Ah, I get it," she said. They laughed again at this Jimmy's expense. Sally broke away and continued across the bar before their interest could return to the lost girl in the wet clothes. Her gaze fixed on the third booth from the back, near the broken air-hockey table. A black guy with penetrating eyes and no smile was staring back at her. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with black pants, which made Sally smile to herself. Never before had she laid eyes on him, but his look and those clothes were exactly what he'd described over the telephone. It was him ...
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Last to Die by James Grippando
Copyright © 2003 by James Grippando
Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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