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The Sultan of Atlantic City—a fictional, opulent, state-of-the-art casino/hotel, is the title of author Lee Rudolph’s very first work of fiction, and it’s a stunning opener. It’s a story about gambling: roulette, slot machines, craps, blackjack: about the people who play those games; and those who help them play. There’s Dutch Mallory, veteran pit boss who “was not one to suffer foolishness from any underlings. Customers were another matter. The more foolish the better.”

Then there are the players. The odds say that the casino never loses, but the players—and this is one delightful mix of personae—think other wise; such as the lady pensioner, who visits the casino on the second Thursday of every month to play the slots. Figuring “it was color more than anything else that counted with luck,” she always wears a red skirt and a white blouse. Other players include Smiley Smedly, the gambler with a number of systems to win at blackjack—but none have ever—as yet: Dr. Robert Dupre, a voyeur psychiatrist and gambling addict; and poker player Bennie The Bee, along with his intriguing little dog Max, “…the results of three-duces-never-loses against aces over nines.” Scott, another compulsive player, who wakes up in the Sultan one morning, finds he has won more than $73,000 at blackjack, and can’t remember a thing! Glamorous Alice Ann Singleton, aka Gloria, is a teacher turned hooker, opportunist, and thief (“and by then she was long gone and had taken all of his $100 bills with her.”).

Finally, there are the bad guys. The Lords of The Swords, a gang led by Marcel (“I am the Lord of the Lords of the Swords!”), seek to shake down the casino through sheer intimidation: “and it was going just as Marcel had said it would. They were so strong there was no one to challenge them. Marcel said they would walk into the casino like they owned it and create so much heat that the fuckers would pay plenty not to have them come back.”

The story unfolds at an even pace, switching from character to character at a rhythm that keeps the reader intent on turning the pages in eager anticipation. The intense, yet underplayed confrontation between the gangsters and the casino management and the uneasy truce that they agreed to, is taut, and well scripted. But, oblivious to the dramatic events surrounding them, the players are totally involved in their own worlds; of fear, hope, dreams—and prayer: “Blessed Virgin…let me get the big one today. I brought $185. I hope that’s enough…for Lords sake, it’s all I brought!”

The pace continues to build up towards the finale: How long will the truce last? Will the players achieve their dreams of winning the big one? Can the casino ever lose? Well, Lee Rudolph deserves the pleasure of taking the reader to the end—which is pure dynamite!

The difference between “The Sultan of Atlantic City” and any other gambling novel is twofold. This is not another caper novel; it’s a serious narrative about the gambling industry and its clientele. Secondly, despite the harsh reality it depicts, it still has the right mix of humor, aggression, and humanity that makes it such a great reading. Author Rudolph gives the reader an insight into the complexities of the world of professional gambling—and the game itself. Subsequent to twenty-five years in the insurance industry, he retired to study casino gambling, and to write. He has written three books, of which this is his first novel—and it’s boomer!

Bookwire Review - March 21, 2006

The Atlantic City of this tale is not about seagulls, saltwater taffy or sunsets. None of the characters venture on the five hundred feet of dark, oily sand from boardwalk to ocean. Rather, the action takes place on the other side of the boardwalk in the Sultan, Atlantic City’s largest, most opulent, lavish casino with the widest variety of games, the prettiest girls, the slickest dealers and the plushest hotel. This is a tale of the players and employees of the Sultan who prefer the sound of dropping coins and handles being pulled to the pounding surf.

The players include a variety of characters we come to care about. The author has avoided stereotypes and described real people. Yes, there is the little, old lady who arrives and departs with other senior citizens on a chartered bus, but she is unique in her own way and we root for her. Some others include Gloria, a substitute schoolteacher who accidentally becomes a hooker on her first visit to the Sultan and Doctor Robert Dupre, a voyeur psychologist who manages to focus on the bedroom window of an uninhibited young woman while counseling his clients. Perhaps the most interesting is Bennie The Bee. Bennie has a dog called Max who communicates with him. It works like this. Occasionally Max becomes rigid, cocks his head and stares at the floor. While in this trance he flashes numbers to Bennie. Bennie knows when to expect this information because these flashes are accompanied by a jolt of pain. Somehow Bennie manages to incorporate these “throbs” into a betting technique.

We are also introduced to the dealers, the stickmen, pit bosses, waitresses, bartenders and hotel personnel. Dutch Mallory is the pit boss in charge of blackjack table A26. He has been at this for a long time and knows how to treat the gamblers, those who work for him and how to control his temper. There is also the very cool CEO of the Sultan, Bob Anderson, the six-foot-eight weightlifter named Bruce who is head of security and Denny, the computer expert. Less appealing are the Lords of the Swords, a group of young punks from Philadelphia who realize there is money to be made fifty-five miles to the south. The plot hinges on the interactions of these groups.

The author certainly knows the lingo and atmosphere of the gaming industry, but the non-gambling readers can enjoy the story without having previous knowledge of blackjack or craps. Mr. Rudolph’s descriptions of players struggling to beat the odds at various games enables even a novice to pick up enough to grasp some of the basic betting strategies. This is a highly enjoyable read that will keep the pages turning regardless of your exposure to the world of gambling. The author accurately expresses that endorphin rush experienced by those winning the games—or alternatively the despair of the gambler who returns home, “penniless, pissed and plastered.”

Louise Schaffner, Trinton Falls, NJ