Cut, Paste, Kill (Lomax and Biggs Series #4)by Marshall Karp
When Eleanor Bellingham-Crump---a socialite responsible for the death of a ten-year-old boy---turns up murdered on the floor of a Hollywood hotel bathroom, Lomax and Biggs are confronted with a crime of artistic brutality. Along with the scissors sticking out of Eleanor's lifeless body, the two detectives find a meticulous scrapbook documenting a motive for
When Eleanor Bellingham-Crump---a socialite responsible for the death of a ten-year-old boy---turns up murdered on the floor of a Hollywood hotel bathroom, Lomax and Biggs are confronted with a crime of artistic brutality. Along with the scissors sticking out of Eleanor's lifeless body, the two detectives find a meticulous scrapbook documenting a motive for vengeance in lurid detail.
As more bodies are discovered, each one connected by the intricate scrapbooks left at the murder scenes, Mike and Terry are on the hunt for a vigilante stalking unpunished criminals. They must race to decode the meaning behind the scrapbooks before the crafty avenger has time to cut and paste the story for another kill.
With laugh-out-loud humor and crackling dialogue, the chapters hurtle toward a killer finale in the most thrilling Lomax & Biggs adventure yet.
“Marshall Karp is the only writer I know who can get big laughs out of murdering someone. Think Robert Crais meets Janet Evanovich.” James Patterson
“Marshall Karp is one of the most original, offbeat, witty and satisfying mystery novelists working today. This Lomax and Biggs adventure is his most fun yet.” Joe Donahue, "Roundtable" Host, Northeast Public Radio Network/WAMC
“In Karp's excellent fourth mystery featuring LAPD detectives Mike Lomax and Terry Biggs, the pair look into the stabbing death of British citizen Eleanor Bellingham-Crump, who escaped prosecution for killing a 10-year-old boy while driving drunk by virtue of her husband's diplomatic immunity. Karp offers multiple twists that will keep most readers guessing until the end, and balances the grim plot with Biggs's inexhaustible supply of genuinely humorous one-liners. Kinky Friedman and Carl Hiaasen fans should latch onto this series.” Publishers Weekly, starred review
“As usual in this uproarious series, the emphasis is as much on comedy as it is on crime, and this time there's plenty to work with: Biggs, the king of the one-liner, has his sights set on a screenwriting career, working in tandem with Lomax's equally wacky father, and Lomax and steady girlfriend Diana are babysitting a precocious Asian girl, who may be able to match Biggs quip for quip. The plot gets a little screwy in the end, but that seems right for a novel that is half mystery and half screwball comedy. Somehow Karp keeps the two in perfect balance.” Booklist
“The opening scene of Cut, Paste, Kill will hook you: A woman scatters numbered ping pong balls and waits to see which one her cats will catch first, thus identifying her next murder victim. This cavalier attitude towards life and death sets the stage for the fourth installment in an entertaining series featuring Hollywood homicide detectives Mike Lomax and Terry Biggs.” Mystery Scene
“Funny is hard to do in a mystery, but Karp does it hilariously. Set in Los Angeles, where a homicidal scrapbooker is on a rampage with scissors, Detectives Lomax and Biggs take on the absurdities of life in LA.” Carole E. Barrowman, The Journal Sentinel
Read an Excerpt
Cut, Paste, Kill
A Lomax & Biggs Mystery
By Marshall Karp
St. Martin's PressCopyright © 2010 Mesa Films, Inc.
All rights reserved.
She scraped the salmon croquettes from her dinner plate into the cats' bowl.
Dizzy, the overweight tiger-striped tabby, took one ladylike nibble of the reheated, three-day-old fish, and walked off. Wayne, the black-and-white longhair, was curled up nose to tail in his favorite spot on the window seat. He didn't even pretend to be interested.
"At least try it," she said. "It's got omega-3. It's good for you."
Wayne yawned, the cat equivalent of giving her the finger.
"I know," she said. "If it's so damn healthy, how come I didn't eat it?"
She poured herself a cup of chai, stirred in five packets of Equal, added a splash of nonfat milk, and took a satisfying sip. Coffee gave her the jitters — definitely a handicap when you've got a pair of razor-sharp scissors in your hand. But the black tea had just enough caffeine to give her the kick she needed to work on her scrapbooks long into the night.
She opened a kitchen cabinet and pulled out a three-quart Tupperware storage bowl. Wayne bolted up.
"I figured this would get your testosterone going," she said, laughing.
The lid was opaque, but the kiwi-colored bowl was transparent enough to see what was inside.
Three weeks ago there were twenty. Each one carefully numbered with a fine-point Sharpie.
Numbers six and fifteen had already been pulled.
That left eighteen Ping-Pong balls. Eighteen possible victims.
She swirled the bowl around, and four cat ears went on point as the balls skittered softly against the sides.
"Lotto time," she announced, as if the two smartest cats in Los Angeles needed any further explanation.
Then she shook the bowl vigorously. The little white celluloid spheres ricocheted against the polycarbonate container like a rattlesnake attacking a roll of bubble wrap.
Dizzy and Wayne were at her feet, swiping at her skirt, yowling for her to make her next move.
"Not so catatonic anymore, are we?" she said, trotting out the same old joke the kitties never seemed to get tired of hearing.
She pried off the top of the Tupperware and flung the contents against the kitchen wall.
The cats went batshit.
Dizzy waddled under the kitchen table in hot pursuit of a trio of balls. Wayne headed the other way, pounced on number 14, and sent it scooting under the stove.
Lotto night was traditionally a fish night, and since she had tossed the salmon, she decided to treat herself to some dessert. Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream. She took a pint from the freezer and put it in the microwave for thirty seconds to get it nice and soft.
As soon as the timer dinged, she grabbed a spoon and began digging into the carton of creamy chocolate that was laced with caramel swirls, gooey marshmallows, and little fudge fish.
She sat down at the table, just as both cats, chasing the same ball, collided head-on.
It was a total hoot, and she only wished she could tape it and post it on YouTube. Look everybody ... here are my two cats helping me pick a murder victim. I call it Feline Felons.
It took three minutes before Wayne nosed one ball into a corner and sank his teeth into it.
"We have a winner," she called out to the invisible crowd.
Wayne knew the drill. He hopped up on her lap, unclenched his teeth, and loudly demanded his reward.
"Number eleven," she said, examining the ball.
She lifted the cat from her lap, went back to the cabinet, and removed a Ziploc bag filled with leaves and stems.
"Game, set, match," she said to Dizzy, who was still too busy chasing Ping-Pong balls to know that the contest was over. "Nepeta cataria for everyone."
She opened the bag, grabbed a small fistful of catnip, and sprinkled it on the kitchen floor. Both cats dove in.
She put on a clean pair of white cotton gloves, went to the bedroom, opened her closet, and twisted the dial on the four-hundred-and-seventy-pound AMSEC safe that protected her precious scrapbooks from fire, water, and nosy Parkers.
Each scrapbook was sealed in its own numbered manila envelope. She felt giddy as she removed number eleven from the safe's plush velour interior. Although she had crafted every page of every scrapbook to perfection, she didn't know which book was in which envelope.
That was the whole idea. Random selection. Each scrapbook went into an identical envelope, then the envelopes were shuffled and numbered.
Dizzy and Wayne chose the winner.
Or in this case, the loser.
She closed the four-inch-thick steel door, yanked the handle and listened as the dead bar clanked into the belly of the safe. She twirled the chrome-plated dial and carried the Lotto-winning envelope to the kitchen.
Sitting down at the table, she scraped up the dregs of the ice cream and sucked the spoon dry. "Would you like to see who you picked?" she asked.
But Dizzy and Wayne were too busy licking themselves, licking each other, and rolling around in the intoxicating weed.
She laughed as she tore open the manila envelope. "Stoners," she said.CHAPTER 2
"So, Mike, how's it going?" my father asked, tears streaming down his face. Granted, he was chopping onions, but still, there's something unnerving about watching a grown man cry.
And Big Jim Lomax is a man full grown. Six-foot-four, which is easy enough to verify, and three hundred pounds, which isn't. He's been claiming that same perfect bowling score weight since the Clinton administration, but I'm betting his scale simply ran out of numbers.
"It's going pretty good," I responded. "Terry and I just wrapped up that gangbanger homicide, and we —"
"I don't mean cop stuff. I'm your father, not Internal Affairs. I meant how's your life going?"
"Diana and I have been in the new house for six months. We finally got the painting done, and —"
"Mike, I've seen the house. I've been there fifty times."
"And two of those times you were actually invited."
He ignored the dig. "Okay, so you and Diana feel good about the house," he said. "How do you feel about everything else?"
Considering the fact that I'm a detective, you would think I'd have picked up on the obvious. When Big Jim asks how it's going, he's worse than Internal Affairs. "It" means my relationship with Diana.
I sidestepped the question. "The message you left on my answering machine said 'lunch at one.' It's 1:15, and we haven't been fed yet."
"Great artistry takes time," he said, giving the last onion a final chop. He put the knife down, wiped his eyes with a dish towel, and cleared his nasal passages with a loud wet snort.
"Very appetizing," I said. "You're lucky I work for LAPD and not the Board of Health."
He turned his attention to a bowl that was heaped with raw chopped meat. "So," he said in that tone of voice that lets you know he's tired of waiting for an answer, "how's it going?"
I deflected the question a second time. "And the rest of your message said there would be an announcement of major proportion. The only thing I've seen of major proportion is a pile of ground round the size of a bowling ball. Do you really need that much red meat for six people?"
"Hey, these aren't dinky-ass McDonald's burgers. These are Big Jim's Famous Cajun Cows on a Bun. The recipe calls for one pound per person."
"I hate to put a crimp in your artistry, but Diana and I can't handle your version of spicy," I said.
"What's wrong with it?"
"The last time I ate one of your burgers it burned the hair right off my chest. From the inside. Hold the Cajun on ours."
"Your loss," he said, digging into the bowl and scooping out a mound of beef. He plopped it into a smaller bowl.
"And hold the cow. We'll each have a dinky-ass burger."
"Hold the Cajun, hold the cow, what next, Mike? Hold the bun?"
"The bun is fine," I said, "but I'd be eternally grateful if you'd hold the transparent questions about my love life."
"Moi?" The three-hundred-pound cherub grinned. "Transparent? I was trying to be subtle, but that never works with you. So here's the question in five words. How's it going with Diana?"
"And here's the answer in five words: none of your business."
"That's four words."
"Do you really need the fifth word? Here's a hint. It starts with an F."
"You guys have a great relationship. I'm just curious if you have any plans to, like, maybe permanentize it?"
"Yeah. We're reading Permanentizing for Dummies. I'll keep you posted."
He started working the onions into the beef. "Diana isn't getting any younger, you know," he said. "Her biological clock is spinning like a windmill in a hurricane. And, for the record, so is mine. Your son needs a grandfather who can teach him to play ball, fly a plane, and take apart an engine. Or would you rather he just visit me when I'm in the nursing home, crapping in my diapers and drooling in my oatmeal?"
"I don't have a son," I said.
"That's my point, Mike. You should. It's time."
"Has it escaped you that Diana and I aren't even married?"
"Your mother and I weren't married either, and I got her pregnant."
"Once again, I fail to live up to your legacy."
The kitchen door opened, and Angel came in. Jim married her a few years after my mother died. My mom was a movie stuntwoman, tall and athletic, with red hair, fair skin, and classic Irish features. Angel is tiny, and her features are classic South of the Border: black hair, dark eyes, and caramel skin.
She walked up to Jim, her head barely reaching his chest. "Are you going to come outside and grill the hamburgers, or are you going to stay in here and grill your son?"
"You're way off base," he said. "We're just having a pleasant father-son chat."
She smiled at me. "He was sticking his nose into your personal life again, wasn't he, Mike?"
"Again? You mean still. And it wasn't just his nose. He was digging with all fours like a prairie dog with an obsessive-compulsive disorder."
She wagged a finger at him. "If we had more time I'd give you the lecture on personal boundaries again, but Marilyn and Terry are here and we're all hungry."
"Terry's here?" Jim said. "Good. At least I'll have someone to talk to who actually likes me."
The truth is, everyone likes my father. It's his style that can drive people a little nuts. His goal is to make people happy. The problem is Big Jim Lomax never bothers to ask what would make you happy. He decides for you. If he sees an old lady standing on a corner, he'll stop traffic and carry her across the street. It doesn't matter if she's screaming, "Put me down, you overgrown idiot. I was waiting for a bus."
He's all heart and no tact. I love him, but since I'm the one whose life he most enjoys trying to fix, I spend a lot of time trying to keep him at bay.
Jim, Angel, and I carried the food out to the backyard. It was late spring, so the place smelled of bougainvilleas and diesel fuel.
The flowers change with the seasons. The oil smell is year-round.
Jim is a trucker. He started out working for the movie studios as a driver. Early on, he realized that the people who rented out the cars and trucks to the film crews made more money than the people who drove them. Today he owns more than fifty equipment trucks, star trailers, and limos. At any given time, a lot of them are scattered over his four-acre spread in Riverside.
I put the food on the table, said hello to Terry and Marilyn, then headed over to Diana.
She looked spectacular — blond, tan, and at forty-three, totally hot. When my wife, Joanie, died I couldn't imagine ever loving another woman. I was wrong. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Diana Trantanella. I was about to put my arm around her when my cell phone rang.
There are only four people who would call my cell on a Sunday. Three of them were here. That left Brendan Kilcullen, my boss.
I answered. "It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon, Lieutenant. I'd have thought you'd be out on the golf course."
"I was," he said. "Until the watch commander called. That's the thing about homicide, Lomax. It hunts you down, even when you're about to birdie the seventh hole. A woman was stabbed to death at The Afton Gardens Hotel. I need you and your partner on the case now. Do you know where he is?"
"Yes sir. Detective Biggs is ten feet away, contemplating suicide."
"I'm not in the mood for comedy," Kilcullen said. "Tell him to put his gun down, and —"
"It's not a gun," I said. "It's a cholesterol bomb. Should I tell him to cancel his lunch plans?"
"Lunch, dinner, Christmas, Easter. You two don't eat till you solve it. From what the watch commander tells me, this one is high profile."
"They're all high profile, boss. In Hollywood, even the murder victims are celebrities. What's the dead woman's claim to fame? Big screen, small screen, or straight-to-DVD?"
"None of the above. She's more of an O. J. Simpson type."
"She's a sports star?"
"No," Kilcullen said. "She killed someone last year and got away with it."CHAPTER 3
"Lunch will have to wait," I said. "That was Kilcullen. Terry and I have a date with a hot chick, and she's getting colder by the minute."
The three women took it in stride. Marilyn and Diana, because they're used to having their plans sandbagged by a homicide call, and Angel, because living with Big Jim is like training for the Who-Knows-What-The-Hell-Will-Happen-Next Olympics.
"We can go to Riverside Plaza," Angel said. "Chico's has some cute new summer tops."
"I'm game," Marilyn said.
"What about those of us who already have all the cute new summer tops we need?" Big Jim asked. "What am I supposed to do with six pounds of raw meat?"
"Knowing you, it won't go to waste," I said. "But Terry and I will take one car and be back as soon as we can for dinner and our womenfolk."
"And your father's big surprise," Diana said, putting her arm around as much of Jim's size XXXXX-L back as she could.
Jim softened. "At least somebody cares about my feelings. The problem with —"
Terry was already in the car, with the Kojak light flashing. He hit the siren and cut Jim off.
"Can't hear you, Dad. Gotta run." I jumped in the car.
"What have we got?" Terry asked as we peeled out.
"Woman stabbed to death at The Afton Gardens Hotel."
"That's the little hotel a few blocks from our office," Terry said.
"Yeah, it would have been incredibly convenient if we were at work, instead of an hour away, about to eat lunch."
"Forty minutes with lights and sirens," Terry said. "As for lunch, open these." He handed me a large bag of sour-cream-and-cheddar potato chips.
I flipped the bag over to look at the nutritional chart. "Wow, only a hundred and sixty calories and ten grams of yummy fat per ounce."
"Hey, I knew we were going to go hungry, so I grabbed it off the table. It was the healthiest snack he had."
"One three-hundred-pound Lomax is enough," I said, rolling down the window and flipping the bag onto the highway. "You can order room service when we get to the hotel."
"I don't think I can afford it. The Afton Gardens is pretty la-di-freaking-dah," he said. "We've had to send a couple of units out there for the occasional Drunk and Disorderly, but it's not the kind of hotel where you get a homicide."
"Kilcullen said we're dealing with a high-profile victim."
"That narrows it down to everyone in show business," he said. "Including Oprah's hairdresser."
"According to Kilcullen this woman's not in the biz."
"How else do you get to be high profile in LA?"
"She killed someone."
"Well, there's your motive," he said. "Who did she kill?"
"He didn't give me any details. You know Kilcullen. He just wants you to think this is the biggest case you ever caught."
"I'm hoping it'll be the fastest. Those burgers your father was whipping up looked like a meal and a half."
"The burgers weren't all he was whipping. Before you and Marilyn got there he was on my case about his new favorite subject."
"Ah yes ... dropping little hints about grandkids?"
"He's done with hints. He brought out the big guns. He made it clear that Diana's biological clock is running out of juice, and that the bus that's taking him to the nursing home is double-parked outside."
"Knowing your father the way I do, I'd say that borders on subtlety," Terry said. "So what's this big announcement he's going to lay on us? Marilyn thinks he's going to retire."
"Fat chance. Big Jim has been renting and driving film trucks for forty years. It's the cushiest job in the world. He drives to a location, sits around doing nothing all day, then when the crew wraps, he drives back. If he retired, he would still sit around doing nothing; only he wouldn't get paid for it."
"So what do you think this big announcement is?"
"I don't know, but if I'm lucky, there's one thing he can say that would make me deliriously happy."
"'Great news, everybody — I've decided to take a vow of silence.'"
Excerpted from Cut, Paste, Kill by Marshall Karp. Copyright © 2010 Mesa Films, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
An award-winning former advertising executive, Marshall Karp is a playwright and a screenwriter, and has written and produced numerous TV shows. Having paid his dues in Hollywood, he began killing the people he used to work with. He is currently coauthoring a thriller with James Patterson.
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REVIEWS OF UNUSUAL SIZE 5 THINGS ABOUT... CUT, PASTE, KILL by Marshall Karp 2010, 296 pages, ARC 1 - This is the fourth book featuring the detective duo Lomax and Biggs. This time, they find themselves caught up in the crimes of a serial killer that believes they are righting society's wrongs, killing those that deserve it. At each scene the killer leaves an intricate scrapbook about the victim. A kind of vigilante with a Cricut. 2 - Like all of Karp's work, this book is funny. Sometimes extremely funny, so don't read it in a place that you might be embarrassed by sudden outbursts of the giggles, like church or a bathroom stall. 3 - There were a few great twists in the story. One was maybe a little over the top, but it fit with the story and I should have, but I never saw it coming. 4 - Carefully researched for accuracy and at times dark, CUT, PASTE, KILL still reads like a breeze, light, fast and funny. An excellent addition to Karp's series. 5 - Semi-Perfect! 9/10 This was a very fun book, written by an author that knows how to make fans- by being smart, witty and honest. If you need further proof, check out his blog, his hilarious Facebook posts or pick up one of his other books. You will be glad you did. His last novel, Flipping Out was my favorite book of last year and CUT, Paste, Kill is a strong contender again this year. As always, stupendous! CUT, PASTE, KILL is out on June 8th, order your copy now! Read more of my reviews on my blog, http://r-o-u-s.blogspot.com/
Having read one of Marshall Karp's previous books, THE RABBIT FACTORY, I was quite excited to get this new Lomax and Biggs mystery. In Karp's latest, homicide detectives Mike Lomax and Terry Biggs are back again solving murders in Hollywood; this time with the help of FBI Agent Simone Trotter. CUT, PASTE, KILL has the team searching for a scrapbooking serial killer who closely resembles actress Betty White from The Golden Girls. As the story unfolds, Mike's home life is expanding with the addition of a very smart and sassy seven year old. I'm not a fan of scrapbooking and I'm definitely not a fan of craft-themed murder books so I almost gave this book a pass thinking it would be a little too hokey. I'm glad I didn't since it turned out to be so much fun! Mr. Karp once again delivers a solid mystery story along with sharp and hilarious dialog that will have you laughing out loud. A rare find.....a good mystery that doesn't take itself too seriously. Lynn Kimmerle
"Cut, Paste, Kill" is a killer read by a killer writer. Marshall Karp is a perfect crime writer. He doesn't leave a clue as to hard it must be to come up with such clever creative one of a kind murder mystery plots- a truism - talent make it look easy. All four of the books in his Lomax and Biggs series have the following: unexpected plots, intriguing murders, laugh out loud lines, a range of characters-and I mean real characters- some more intelligent than others, some more funny than others, some warm, some cold, some creepy (of course), some lovable and of course, some not so and they all come alive off the pages fully formed. There is a surprising and sweet tenderness in the relationship that Big Jim forms with Sophie. Big Jim's and Terry's movie making plans are a smiling delight and a perfect reflection of the contagion of Hollywood dreaming. Marshall Karp has an notable gift - his writing is so 'visual' that while one is reading, one is seeing it all. Just imagine the scrap booking! This is a fun, can't wait to turn the page read. Speaking of "can't wait"-when can we expect the next Marshall Karp killer thriller. Please write faster. Thanks.
The latest Marshall Karp mystery did not disappoint! I have been looking forward to this book for a long time and it was worth the wait and the trip to NYC to get it! This is the second year in a row I have traveled to NYC from NC for Marshall Karp's book release party to get my autographed copy of the latest Lomax and Biggs novel and it has been worth every penny! That is how much I look forward to reading his books! I could not stop reading. The best Lomax and Biggs thriller yet! I can't believed I laughed so much while reading about murder and scrapbooking! Please continue writing Lomax and Biggs crime novels!! I absolutely cannot wait for the book he is writing with James Patterson to come out. The 2 best mystery authors EVER!!!
I was introduced to this author by a friend and by chapter 2 of his first book, I called and said 'Thank you - I LOVE him'. - I could not put it down, and read all three of his books in record time. Marshall's books have everything you want in a great book - there is mystery, there is humor, and the characters are relatable, fun and real. You want to know these people; actually you do know these people. I had to wait a month for Cut, Paste, Kill: A Lomax & Biggs Mystery to come out, and I was not disappointed with the results. I'm only disappointed sleep kept me from finishing it in one day. If only Marshall could write as fast as I can read!! Highly anticipating his next venture with his friend and author James Patterson, and of course the next in the Lomax and Biggs series. Write faster Marshall!
Cut, Paste, Kill is hysterically funny and yet twisted. I recommend this one even to those who aren't fans of murder mysteries, I never was and have been hooked since The Rabbit Factory. I didn't want to stop reading & didn't want it to end. I am already Blood Thirsty for the next Karp release. Do yourself a favor and pick up Cut, Paste, Kill! I bet you'll be Flipping Out over it as much as I am!!!
Marshall Karp really kills in this great novel. I'd even say he slays his audince. However, his weapon of choice his wit. The detective dou of Lomas and Biggs strikes again and again with one-liners. The plot has so many twist and turns, you need a road map. As an avid mystery and thriller reader I can honestly say I did not see the ending coming. I had no idea who the perp was. I challenge you to figure it out.
I originally chose this novel because of the scrapbooking reference in the synopsis on the book jacket, but once I began reading the book itself, it was evident that this was not a nice little book about crafting. Far from it. This murder mystery is the fourth in the series whose main characters are Lomax & Biggs, two police detectives on the Hollywood beat. The story opens with a game of 'choose the victim', played by two cats chasing their numbered ping pong balls, and the winning number is... There is a serial killer on the loose and the victims are being chosen at random by two cats. The victims come from wide and varied backgrounds with no apparent connection, but all are killed in the same manner. Lomax & Biggs are kept busy trying to solve these crimes, and more than one red herring is thrown into their path in order to shield the real killer. There are many twists and turns throughout the story leading up to a thrilling finale. An excellent book and I look forward to the next adventure featuring Lomax & Biggs.
Cut, Paste Kill is my first Lomax and Biggs mystery and it won't be my last. I found this book to be fairly enjoyable. Lomax and Biggs are two cops that are trying to solve the murders of various individuals whose only connection are scrapbooks the murderer has left behind detailing these individual's lives and wrongdoings. This pair of wise-cracking cops had me chuckling as I read each chapter. This book has a few twists and turns that kept my glued to each page. It is a very entertaining murder mystery.
My favorite detective team returns for a fourth great mystery. The mysteries in this series just keep getting better and better, and this one delivers excellent twists and turns to keep you guessing. Karp's trademark wit is present, of course, with several laugh-out-loud moments. Mike Lomax continues to be the heart and soul of the series, though, and his personal situation and conflicting emotions keep the stories focused on human emotions and life in general. I strongly recommend not only this novel, but the whole Lomax and Biggs series.
Are you looking for a mystery book that will also make you laugh hysterically and cry a few times...well the book for you is Cut, Paste, Kill by Marshall Karp. I've been reading the Lomax and Biggs novels since The Rabbit Factory and each one gets better and better. I know if I was involved in a murder mystery I would want Lomax and Biggs on the job! They work the crimes with humor and sensitivity like no other duo. Give it a read and if you love it as much as I did, you will want to go back and read The Rabbit Factory, BloodThirsy and Flipping Out too!!
Cut, Paste, Kill is one of those books you just can't put down. It is the newest book in the Lomax and Biggs series created by Marshall Karp. A group of friends and I read his first book The Rabbit Factory together and WE WERE HOOKED! Cut, Paste, Kill is a terrific addition to the series. The story has lots of twists. Just when you think you've got it all figured out, you realize that you're totally wrong. The Mike Lomax and Terry Biggs are characters you really care about and wish you knew in real life. Marshall Karp has a great sense of humor that keeps you entertained from start to finish. I have recommended Marshall and his books to many people since I've started reading him and I have been thanked every time. I look forward to the next Lomax and Biggs book and the upcoming collaboration between Marshall and another author you might have heard of, James Patterson. Pick up Cut, Paste, Kill and you definitely won't be disappointed. You may have to CUT everyone out of your life because you will be so PASTE(D) to the book and your spouse might KILL you for it. But it will be totally worth it!
Listen, for the last time, if you have not caught up to this series, then do yourself a favor a buy this book. I know many people always want to compare authors and if I had to do so with Karp, I think the closest in terms of humor and storytelling is Nelson DeMille and his John Corey series. You like one; you'll like the other.
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This Lomax & Biggs story had me laughing the most. The story just kinda flew by, thinking of that I enjoyed this book better then the other. Where's #5. I'm going to die waiting for another story!!!