Apart from Ed McBain's 87th Precinct series, most of which I have, from the early ones in the 1950s to the ones towards the end, no mystery author holds me quite as captive. Even McBain's other works don't hold me so well, I am not a fan of his Matthew Hope series.
Others that exist, Walter Mosley, without a doubt always an enjoyable as is the late Donald Westlake, I'm usually good with John Lescroart...the Dismas Hardy books in particular; but, his other works are equally decent and he gives a generalized feel of San Francisco in his description.
Most any book can hold me once I get past the first few pages and with mystery books it's a matter of hand me the crime I want to know what happened and I want to know in all the gory detail.
Of course exceptions exist, I have never understood anything of Agatha Christie, her works bore me to a place where my toes turn blue. Turn it into a movie and here stories become easier to handle.
Lawrence Block is just a boneheaded thief, and his works are a mixed bag, stealing from other authors and/or stealing from tales he overhears...that mostly applies to his Berine R. series. I don't like Larry, so maybe I'm not the best judge of his work. To have fun with him
, just go up and stare at him
, he begins to sweat
and his charming wife Lynne has to escort him away. His writing ability is that of a high school student on a good day. Really, he's a talentless hack.
Sayers, Chandler, Ed Gorman, Anne Perry (although the fact that she killed someone before her career took off may add to the excitement there...just knowing she has a capability), several others. It's hard to single out any 1 or even put together 5, as is most cases with things, my strong interest in any particular author changes according to mood and health.