Naked Greed by Stuart Woods
I’ll be perfectly honest with you. I can’t even remember what fucking happened in this book. I remember them building some drama, but like every other goddamn Stone Barrington book, he bangs a bunch of ladies in his Sealy Posturepedic, eats Dover sole and drinks Hannibal Lecter level wine, flies to his home in New England on his goddamn aeroplane, and a bunch of people try to kill him.
I know Stuart Woods made Stone single again so he could just fuck like James Bond pre-AIDS but one of these times I want Stone to get an STD. And the entire book is just him chapter by chapter calling every fucking woman he ever fucked and having to explain it. That would be a trilogy.
Stuart Woods is like eating while driving cross country. Unless you stop somewhere specific, like to eat a 72-oz steak in Amarillo, Texas, or to get green chile sauce in Albuquerque, chances are, you’re just fucking eating at some Steak N’ Shake or Fazoli’s or some generic regional burger joint. It’s not the best food. You’ll forget the meal. But it gets the job done.
Woods has Vitamixed all of his other narratives and characters into the Barrington books. Holly Barker used to be this kickass CIA agent. Now she’s another fuckmuppet who boinks Stone whenever she enters. If Stone hasn’t fucked someone, it’s because a) they work for him (and even then, that’s about a 50/50) or b) they’re married to another character.
I’m going to spoiler this so if you care. They almost killed Dino in this one. But you know they won’t. Woods poops out another Barrington book every three months like clockwork. Seriously. January, April, July, October. Four a year. And lately they’ve all been some salaciously titled gererotica. The next three are called Foreign Affairs, Amorous Entanglements, Compromising Positions. These could also be Lifetime Movies or Cinemax Softcore Titles. But nope. They’ll be about a lawyer multimillionaire playboy who eats the same dishes at the same restaurants. He’s as comfortable as Matlock.