V. Daniel

Created by David M. Pierce
Pseudonyms include Milton
(1932–)

” ‘Voila,’ I said. ‘That’s French for something’ ”
— Write Me a Letter

I always sorta thought of David M. Pierce’s VIC DANIEL as a stretched-out Shell Scott for the nineties. Although he wore his big crazy heart on his sleeve, he shared an attitude that went straight back even further, through Scott to Dan Turner and Bill Crane, and if his adventures don’t always quite achieve the light-hearted zaniness (and old Testament-style justice) of some of his glorious predecessors, well, they came awful close at times.

And this was allegedly a kinder, gentler era, after all. Certainly, the sexist smirkiness is toned down, and there’s a new and welcoming decency and respect towards all.

Except, of course, for the bad guys.

Slightly shady, highly quirky Los Angeles P.I. Vic is a whopping 6’7” in his outsized Hawaiian shirt. This doofus dick is ably—albeit somewhat reluctantly—assisted by Sara, an adolescent, would-be punk/poetess throughout most of his adventures. He has an office on the “wrong end” of Hollywood Boulevard (on the corner of Orange and Victory in the San Fernando Valley), in a failing strip mall where he kept his Mac, and “Betsy,” one of his four guns (all Police Positives). He also totes one in his car (a pink-and-blue Nash Metropolitan he thinks is a classic), one at home, and another, unlicensed one he sometimes carried. You can’t be too careful, I guess…

By the last book in the series, the rock’n’roll-saturated As She Rides By (1996), he had somehow acquired both a girlfriend, Evonne, and a dog, King. Both which, he suspects, are smarter than he is.

But what really sells the series is the vibe, a laidback goofiness. Motormouth V has a mean way with a misquotation, always circling but never quite hitting the mark, leaning more on dad jokes than wisecracks, and a tendency to push (but gently) against the fourth wall, interjecting his own first person narration with cheeky asides.

The good-natured breeziness is relentless and may not be your cup of Sprite, but the crimes V. uncovers are real enough and often nasty enough, and the detection chops impressive enough.

Maybe the kinder, gentler times of the era weren’t so kind and gentle after all. Just, at least in this series, more fun.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

David M. Pierce was born in Montreal (Wooo-hoo!), and in one of his author bios it said he had “pursued the typical career path of an aspiring writer-aluminum company slave, furniture salesman, reporter, truck driver, door-to-door magazine salesman, stage manager, actor, bartender and hatcheck girl,” as well as writing lyrics for Alice Cooper, Chad ‘n’ Jeremy and John Entwistle. After living for several years in London and Los Angeles, he made his home in Paris. I met him once, briefly, and he seemed like a pretty cool guy. And at the time, his mom still lived in Montreal.

UNDER OATH

“… two parts Steve Martin to one part Groucho Marx.”
— The Liverpool Daily
“The plot isn’t the thing with Pierce’s books; the things are witty prose, very engaging characters, and one of the more flip and irreverent attitudes you’re likely to find. I’ve seen this characterized as both the weakest and the best of the series by different people. Personally I’m inclined toward the former, but I still liked it.”
— Barry Gardner on Write Me a Letter (January 1993, Fireman, Fireman, Save My Books #5)

NOVELS

Down in the Valley (1989) | Buy this book | Kindle it!
Hear the Wind Blow Dear (1989) | Buy this book | Kindle it!
Roses Love Sunshine (1989) | Buy this book | Kindle it!
Angels in Heaven (1992) | Buy this book | Kindle it!
Write Me a Letter (1993) | Buy this book | Kindle it!
As She Rides By (1996) | Buy this book | Kindle it!

SHORT STORIES

“Plane Common Sense” (Spring 1993, The Armchair Detective)
“P.I. To the Stars” (April 1996, EQMM)

THE DICK OF THE DAY

April 2, 2025
THE BOTTOM LINE: This six foot seven doofus from the nineties may not be your typical Hollywood dick, but he shares some serious DNA with Shell Scott.

V. Daniel