My dad is a very avid reader (actually both my parents are), and he’s got a very different taste in books than I do – his Westerns to my literary novels. So when this book hit my mailbox with its description of “a tribute to one man’s triumph over the police, morals, and sobriety,” I thought it sounded a good fit for my dad’s love of strong male characters and adventure. I think I was wrong; here’s what Father of Andilit had to say:

The book held my interest for its presentation of life on the edge in another time and style of living. This lasted for three or four chapters after which it became tiresome. One should not write an autobiography unless there are interesting aspects to one’s life. Each chapter reads the same: opportunity exists, trouble comes, advantage is taken of someone, writer lands on his feet. Bob Moore’s life may have interested him, but it didn’t me.

So there you have it folks, an honest review from an honest man, my father. No mincing words, no pulling punches – my dad is the kind of man he reads about in his adventure stories – tough, wise, and above all, truthful.

Cover of Don't Call Me a CrookDon’t Call Me a Crook: A Scotsman’s Tale of World Travel, Whisky, and Crime by Bob Moore