Summary
New York Times bestselling author Lisa Scottoline delivers a riveting page-turner about sex and murder, which starts in the elite chambers of a sexy female judge and ends on the cold, gritty streets of Philadelphia.
Cate Fante is strong and smart, but when she gets appointed a federal judge, even she wonders if she can do the job justice. She's in her thirties, and she feels like she's joining the world's most exclusive retirement village. But Cate keeps her doubts a secret. And, as it happens, much else. For she leads a dark, double life that she hides from everyone.
Then a high-profile case in her courtroom explodes into a shocking murder-suicide, and it blasts her cover wide open. Overnight, her new career hangs in tatters. But Cate's troubles are only beginning. An enemy no one anticipated sends her running for her life -- embarking on a journey that begins in the mystery of her own childhood. She'll have to fight her way back to the truth, or die trying.
Dirty Blonde is Lisa Scottoline's most suspenseful and gripping thriller to date. Mixing poignancy with her trademark wit and wonderfully compelling characters, it questions whether law and justice are always the same thing.
Publisher's Weekly Review
Rookie federal judge Cate Fante's early days on the Philadelphia bench rapidly descend into nightmare in this compelling stand-alone legal thriller from bestseller Scottoline (Devil's Corner). Fante is the presiding judge in an intellectual property case in which Richard Marz, a former Philly prosecutor, is suing Art Simone, a powerhouse Hollywood producer, for stealing his idea for a TV series about a team of prosecutors called Attorneys@Law. The day after Fante dismisses the lawsuit, someone plugs Simone in the forehead with a .22 outside the restaurant where he was dining with his attorneys. Marz is the chief suspect, and the authorities believe Fante could be his next victim. But her troubles really begin after Marz's crooked police partner discovers her secret vice of picking up nameless strangers in seedy dives for one-night stands. While some may be dissatisfied by the out-of-left-field solution to the mystery and the limited efforts to explain the judge's motives for her reckless behavior, the fast pace and ever-increasing tension will keep readers turning the pages. 12-city author tour. (Mar.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Kirkus Review
Judges who live in glass houses shouldn't mouth off, as the latest of Scottoline's Philadelphia legal eagles learns when her public and private lives collide with a bang. The Honorable Cate Fante is the golden girl of the Eastern District bench, appointed at 39 to one of the most prestigious positions in the American bar. But not even her sharp mind can figure out a way to keep powerful TV producer Art Simone from evading Philadelphia lawyer Richard Marz's clearly meritorious claim that his one-time buddy stole the idea and the leading characters for the wildly successful series Attorneys at Law from Marz. Cate reluctantly decides the case in favor of Simone. But the stern lecture she delivers to the defendant from the bench, which inspires Marz to hurl abuse at him in open court, is a distinct faux pas, as Chief Judge Sherman informs her privately. Actually, it's a hundred times worse. Within two days Simone and Marz are both dead, the first a murder, the second an apparent suicide. As if the resulting notoriety weren't punishment enough, Marz's friend and partner, Detective Frank Russo, threatens to go public with details of Cate's compulsive sexual interludes with lowlife pickups, the latest of whom is also dead. Even worse, Simone's death evidently won't prevent his production company from launching Judges at Court, a new series based on Cate's life, featuring thinly fictionalized versions of not only the besmirched judge but her publicity-shy best friend Gina Katsakis and her autistic son Warren. Can she sue the company to prevent her private life from turning into prime-time drama? Probably not--but if she doesn't, her days as a judge will be numbered. If only the fireworks which Scottoline (Devil's Corner, 2005, etc.) uses to extricate her feisty heroine from her problems were as compelling or believable as the sure-footed mastery with which she plunges her into hot water. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Booklist Review
Drama verges on melodrama in this thirteenth offering from Edgar Award winner Scottoline. Neophyte Philadelphia federal judge Cate Fante thought she could keep her sex life a secret until a case involving high-powered Hollywood producer Art Simone exposes every tawdry fact. Judge Fante had decided in favor of Simone in his blistering legal battle with aspiring writer Richard Marz (each claimed ownership of the idea behind the top-ranked TV series, Attorneys@Law0 ). Simone, it turns out, was also at work on an edgy new project about a female federal judge who bears a striking similarity to Fante. When Simone is killed outside a popular restaurant, the judge is among the suspects. Soon the details of Judge Fante's dual personalities are splashed across the tabloids, and her life is in ruins. She's particularly worried about best pal, Gina, and Gina's autistic son, Warren, whose daily struggles are destined to become grist for the television mill. Former trial lawyer Scottoline, now a on best-selling writer, renders snappy dialogue and vivid descriptions of her native Pennsylvania in this engaging--if somewhat over-the-top--suspenser about consequences and truths. --Allison Block Copyright 2006 Booklist
Library Journal Review
Cate Fante worries that at 39 she's too young to become a judge. But she's even more worried that a dark life she keeps secret will come out-which, of course, it does. With a one-day laydown; 12-city tour. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Dirty Blonde Chapter One Six months later, Cate sat in her high-backed chair atop the dais, waiting to start the day's session. The courtroom was packed, and she hid her anticipation behind a professional mask, which was turning out to be a job requirement. The jury trial had taken all last week, but today was the only day that counted, like the final two minutes in a basketball game. Sixers-Hornets. It was on at the bar last night. Wonder who won. Cate shifted behind the slippery wall of stacked pleadings in front of her. She hadn't slept well last night and was relying on her concealer, but was otherwise in full costume: synthetic black robes, dark blond hair in a judicial chignon, a swipe of pink gloss on her lips, and neutral makeup on largish, blue eyes. Finally the courtroom deputy flashed Cate a wink. Showtime. Cate gestured to plaintiff's counsel. "Mr. Temin, let's begin. I assume that plaintiff continues his testimony this morning." "Yes, Your Honor." Nathan Temin was a roly-poly lawyer with the paunch of a much older man and a dark suit that begged to be ironed, worn with equally unruly black hair. Still, Cate knew better than to judge a trial lawyer by his cover. She had dressed down for court many times. Prada didn't win jury verdicts. "Excellent." Cate nodded. "Fire when ready." "Thank you, Your Honor." Temin hustled to the podium with a Bic pen and a legal pad, then pressed down his suit with a pudgy hand. He greeted the jury and turned to his client, already rising from counsel table. "Mr. Marz, please take the stand." Richard Marz walked to the witness stand, and necks craned from the gallery. Reporters scribbled away, and sketch artists switched to their flesh-toned chalk. The Eastern District of Pennsylvania didn't allow cameras in the courtroom, for which Cate thanked God and Chief Judge Sherman. "Good morning, Your Honor," Marz said in his soft-spoken way, sitting down after he was sworn in. He was barely thirty years old, and his baby-blue eyes showed litigation strain. He smiled tightly, his lips taut as a rubber band, and he ran a finger-rake through muddy-brown curls that sprouted from under a crocheted yarmulke. A dark suit jacket popped open over his white shirt, and his striped tie hung unevenly. Everybody knew that people looked like their dogs, but Cate thought they looked like their lawyers. "Good morning, Mr. Marz." She smiled at Marz in a professional way, feeling subterranean sympathy for his position. He was claiming that a powerful TV producer had stolen his idea for a series about Philadelphia lawyers and developed it into the cable blockbuster Attorneys@Law. In this battle between David and Goliath, Marz held the slingshot. At the lectern, Temin tugged the black bud of a microphone down to his height. "Now, Mr. Marz, you testified last week that you had two meetings with Mr. Simone, leading up to the critical meeting. Please remind the jury of what took place at the first meeting, on June 10." "Objection, Your Honor," said George Hartford, defense counsel. Hartford had gray eyes behind slightly tinted bifocals and was prematurely bald. He had to be about fifty, and stood tall and fit in a slim Italian suit with a yellow silk tie. "Asked and answered. Plaintiff's counsel is wasting the jury's time." Temin said, "Your Honor, it's appropriate to review this proof because the weekend intervened." "Overruled." Cate shot both lawyers her sternest look. "Let's not let the objections get out of hand today, boys. Play nice." "Thank you, Your Honor." Temin nodded, but a cranky Hartford eased back in his chair next to his client, producer Art Simone. Even seated, Simone looked tall and trim, in his prime at a prosperous forty-something. His reddish hair had been shorn fashionably close to his scalp, and his tortoiseshell glasses paired with a caramel-colored silk tie and tan houndstooth suit. If Marz and Temin were the mutts in this dogfight, Simone and Hartford were purebred afghans. "Mr. Marz," Temin began again, "tell us briefly what happened at the June meeting with Mr. Simone." "Well, my background is from the DA's office, handling cases concerning computer fraud and Internet crime. I always liked computers." Marz sounded almost apologetic. "But I wanted to be a writer, so I started writing a screenplay for a TV show about four lawyers and how they use computer skills to solve murders. I called it Hard Drive. It was my wife who said, 'Why don't you do something about it?'" Marz smiled at his wife in the front row of the gallery, a sweet-faced brunette wearing a long skirt and sensible shoes. "So I called Art -- Mr. Simone -- and told him what I was doing and asked if he would meet with me about it, and he agreed to fly out to Philly to take the meeting." Marz turned to the jury in an earnest way. "That's what they call it in L.A., 'taking a meeting.' When they say no, they call it 'taking a hard pass.' A 'soft pass' is a maybe. I thought a soft pass was about sex, but what do I know?" The jurors chuckled with evident warmth. Nobody loved underdogs like Philly. Temin asked, "Had you known Mr. Simone, prior?" "Yes, I knew him from summer camp from when I was, like, ten years old. Camp Willowbark, Unit A. He was my senior counselor, and I looked up to him like a big brother. I heard he was doing TV in Hollywood, so I hoped he'd help me out." "And what happened at the meeting, briefly?" "We met at Le Bec Fin and I told him all the details about my idea and asked him would he consider it for his production company. The lead lawyer in my series is a former detective, an Italian guy from South Philly who dresses great and is, like, a tie freak -- " "You needn't repeat the details," Temin interjected, preempting Hartford's objection. "Okay, right, sorry. All that's important is that the four lawyers I told Mr. Simone about ended up being exactly like the four lawyers on Attorneys@Law." "Objection, opinion!" Hartford said, and Cate waved him off. "Overruled. The jury knows it's his opinion.... Dirty Blonde . Copyright © by Lisa Scottoline. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Dirty Blonde by Lisa Scottoline All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
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