The Burying Ground, by Janet Kellough ****

This book will be released in a couple of weeks, and I can tell you, it’s already gotten some really good reviews. Since I read and reviewed it clear back in January, I’m reblogging it today.

seattlebookmama's avatarSeattle Book Mama

theburyinggroundThis is the fourth book in Kellough’s Thaddeus Lewis series, but it was brand new to me, and I was able to follow the story quite well as a stand-alone. My thanks go to Net Galley and Dundurn Group for the DRC. This book comes out in early August, and I will run my review a second time on my blog then to remind readers that it’s available.

Kellough has merged two enjoyable genres, mystery or detective fiction and historical fiction, and added a splash of social justice–the sort that slides into the story neatly and without preaching. Lots of different story threads eventually braid together elegantly into an ending that satisfies deeply.

The settings are Montreal close to the time of the Industrial Revolution, and outside of Montreal in a village called Yorke. Our protagonists are Thaddeus Lewis, a Methodist Episcopal preacher who travels the circuit, and his son…

View original post 219 more words

Rhode Island Red, by Charlotte Carter *****

rhodeislandredNanette Hayes is a musician working the streets of New York. She doesn’t intend to become a sleuth, but when a Caucasian cop follows you home and is murdered in your front hallway, it’s hard not to get involved. And that’s only for starters! This savvy, sassy detective novel, the first in the series, will be released January 27, and you won’t want to miss it! My great thanks go to Net Galley and Open Road Media for the DRC.

I was initially drawn to this series by the cover, which is unusual in that it actually appears the artist knows what is in the book. I was looking for urban and gritty, and at first was taken aback when I got urbane and French instead. I have never been to France and don’t like jazz music, so most of the cultural references weren’t useful to my understanding of the character or her story.

But a good writer can pull in anybody from anywhere, just about, and that’s what happened here. Somewhere between the 20 and 30 percent mark, I felt the pace of the story quicken and deepen, and I was hooked. By the story’s last half, I was making notations so that I would not forget particular bits of linguistic and story-arc genius that showed as Carter’s tale unfolded.

Hayes is artistic, “self-involved, mercurial, emotionally unstable”, and she’s a chronic liar to boot, especially when speaking to her mother. But the tough stuff only runs so deep: her conscience, that smaller inner voice that she has named “Ernestine”, tells her to do the right thing, even when the reader is mentally screaming for her to go with naked self interest. Doing what seems to be right doesn’t always pay off, though, and before she knows it, everything has gone to the dogs.

As the bodies pile up, Carter uses a subtle, muted kind of House-That-Jack-Built method to build tension and focus the reader, repeating questions and issues and sometimes adding one more to what was there before. I have never seen it done quite this way, and it is fiendishly effective. Her use of figurative language is among the strongest in the genre, and all of this caused me to wonder why she was passed over for an Edgar the first time this was released. It must have been poor marketing, because the writing is certainly worthy.

This is about to be re-released January 27. If you enjoy a good mystery story, do yourself a favor and order a copy. Even if it costs you a good night’s sleep, you’ll be glad you did.

Swan Peak, by James Lee Burke *****

Swan PeakThis series began decades ago, when Dave Robicheaux and his best friend and cop partner, Cletus Purcel, were in their prime. Now they are much older, aging along with their creator, the legendary James Lee Burke. Robicheaux is happily married to Molly, a strong, loving woman who can deal with the harsh twists and turns that Dave’s life metes out. Clete continues to be drawn toward women with “disaster, stay away” stamped on their foreheads. It’s nice to know there are some things the reader can depend upon.
Just as the author divides his time between Montana and New Iberia, Louisiana, so does Dave, and this installation is set in Montana. Dave, Molly and Clete are on vacation, staying with friends, but Clete drives headlong into trouble, for once not of his own making, almost immediately. The local cops aren’t entirely sympathetic, nor are the Feds, all of whom know that he has a suspicious history in the area; he may be connected to a flaming plane that took down a nasty mobster and some of his entourage, a crash that may not have been accidental. Nobody has ever proven anything, but the presumption of innocence doesn’t apply to the attitudes that people take. It’s unfortunate, since Clete will need all the help he can get in this one:

 
Clete Purcel had given up on sleep, at least since he had been sapped with a blackjack,
wrist-cuffed to the base of a pine tree, and forced to hear a machine dig his grave out
of a hillside. He kept his nightlight on and his piece under his pillow and slept in fitful
increments. The trick was not to set the bar too high. If you thought of sleep in terms
of minutes rather than hours, you could always keep ahead of the game.

 
Yes, friends, there is trouble to spare on this vacation-from-hell, the bevy of frustrated wanna-be artists, corrupt wealthy baddies, and women with miserable pasts and questionable futures to whom Cletus is invariably drawn, moth to candle flame, that we have come to expect from a colorful, adrenaline packed story like the ones Burke spins when he writes this series.
But not all is rotten and wrong. Dave and Molly are fonder and more loving than ever as they grow older together. The protagonist explains that

 
There are occasions in this world when you’re allowed to step inside a sonnet,
when clocks stop, and you don’t worry about time’s winged chariot and hands
that beckon to you from the shadows.

 
Is the man with the half-melted face someone associated with Sally Dio? Is he Dio himself? Or is he merely a disabled man with a deeply flawed character?
Who killed those teenagers?
To find out, you need to get a copy of this wonderful book, but if you haven’t read the rest of the series, I recommend reading them in sequence. Because nobody writes better than Burke.

A Dancer in the Dust: A Novel, by Thomas H. Cook *****

a dancer in the dustA Dancer in the Dust is a multifaceted novel. It is a love story, the doomed love of Ray Campbell, a risk assessor from the United States for Martine Aubert, an African woman of Belgian descent. Martine lives in, and loves, the country of her birth, a fictitiously independent nation called Lubanda. And it is a story of paternalism, and of how much easier it is to place someone else in a risky position rather than oneself. It is also a story that raises thought-provoking social issues.
My thanks go to the publisher and the first reads program for the chance to read this free. It is beautifully written, but it is also one that starts with a man grieving, and by chance it arrived in the mail when I was grieving a younger family member who died very unexpectedly. Every time I picked the book up, the clouds formed, and so I took what I would generally consider to be an unconscionably long time reading it. For awhile, the words just couldn’t sink in.
When I got my wits about me, it occurred to me that I ought to find out whether Lubanda was a real place or not, lest I make an ass of myself while reviewing it. Sure enough, Lubanda, though not really an independent nation, exists in east-central Africa as a subsection of Tanzania. Cook makes it larger and more populous than it is in real life for the purpose of his fictional vehicle. And when you are as painterly and skillful with words as Cook is, you can pretty much do what you need to in order to tell your story.
So we rejoin Campbell as he sets out on his return trip to Lubanda. He left there after Martine was killed, returned to New York City, but the death of a man known to both Ray and Martine sets his wheels back in motion. Seso, whom Campbell considered a friend, has turned up dead, murdered, in New York City. Campbell has weighed risks and taken the safer course all of his life, and in turn, he has been left with nothing and no one. He is finally ready to toss all of his chips on the table in hopes of at least winning redemption, and so he sets out in search of Seso’s killer.
“Actually, we have plenty of opportunities to do the right thing…It’s taking back the wrong thing we can’t do.”
Martine had died because she would not do what the Western aid providers think she should do, a program the government bought into lock, stock and barrel. She had tried to explain in logical terms why their plan for her country was wrong, but no one was listening. Nation after nation had become a “funhouse mirror into hell” because of Western policies: Uganda, Kenya, Congo, and the list continues. Patrice Lumumba embraced modern ideas and methods, but ultimately died when he defied his keepers.
In setting out to find out what happened to Seso and why, Campbell is looking to trace back the thread. Cook’s account is brutal and searing, but it is too well told, too compelling, and raises too many thorny social issues that bear examining to be set aside. Read it for Africa; read it for the mystery it unravels; or read it for social justice. But get the book, and read it now!

Apprehended, by Jan Burke ****

I really enjoy Jan Burke’s writing, have been reading her Irene Kelly series since the get-go. This little collection is different; she writes with a variety of disparate, yet entirely authentic voices and also experiments with different settings than the usual. And all of it is really good.

In fact, the only reason star number five is missing is because a hundred pages isn’t a whole book, as far as I am concerned, it’s part of a book, or maybe a large pamphlet. I felt I was just getting warmed up, ready to go on to the next story, and..oh. It’s over. I guess that’s it.

I am grateful to Net Galley for the free read, but I would not pay cover price for 100 pages, not even for Burke.

It is good to see Ms. Burke back in action. Her work is always skillful and holds my interest till the dead last word on the very last page.

Somebody Owes Me Money! by Donald Westlake *****

 somebodyowesme Imagine that you are a working class guy, okay, not always technically LEGAL work, and you place a small bet on a fairly frequent basis with a friend who is also a bookie. And week after week, just as with lottery tickets, it is money down the drain.

Then suddenly, the angels sing: Hallelujah! Your horse just won on some VERY long odds! You trot joyfully up the stairs to your bookie’s flat…and he’s there. Dead. On the floor. It looks like a professional hit.

So…what would you do?

If it was me, I know what I’d do! I’d run like hell! NEVER MET the guy. But not our protagonist. (And this is all right there at the start, mind; I haven’t spoiled a thing beyond the very beginning of the book). OUR protagonist is thinking of just one thing: he has FINALLY won a bet, and he is GOING to collect! So, whoever took this guy out must be the one who owes him money now, RIGHT? Well, where is he?

Westlake has made me laugh many, many times. I will miss him terribly, and am glad he wrote so much. I felt at least one of his novels should be on this list.

Blind Descent, by Nevada Barr*****

blinddescentOf all of the riveting tales Barr has spun around her park ranger protagonist, Anna Pigeon, this is, I think, the most compelling (and I have read them all)! For those that want to know, it’s the sixth in a long series, each of which is set in a national park.

Have any issues with claustrophobia? If yours is intense, you may need to give this one a miss. It involves caving and spelunking, including oh my stars crawling in a tiny horizontal tunnel where five extra pounds put on over a last-minute cheesecake just could mean the end of you. Once you’ve gone miles and you can’t go forward, and your light is out…what are you supposed to do, go backwards? It’s not like it’s all one tunnel. There are places you can fall, wrong turns you can take. After all, it was not made to be entertainment, it’s a seriously bad-ass part of Mother Nature that I don’t care to think about too hard.

Now, imagine that you are on such an intense journey, and that you are Anna Pigeon (whose only really detrimental characteristic is a stereotypical view of large people…you know, lazy, poor character, untrustworthy…I said something on Barr’s website once and she responded that this is her character’s perspective, so if you are sensitive about snarky remarks regarding people who have any extra meat on their bones, beware the whole series). Okay, now with that digression aside, imagine you are Anna Pigeon, and because you are a buff, toned ranger with a good reason to do so, you have headed into one of these caving expeditions; you’re in a tight spot; and it is only there that you realize that someone on the expedition would prefer you not make it out again.

Barr’s bias against sizable people aside, her writing is otherwise so impeccably skillful that I have no choice but to give her all 5 stars. Don’t read it right before you go to sleep, unless you are COMPLETELY untroubled by things that go bump in the night!

Drowned Hopes, by Donald Westlake *****

drownedhopesA guy gets out of prison, and he goes to get the loot where he buried it. Unfortunately, he’s been gone quite awhile. A dam has been built and the water for a whole town is on top of it now. In order to get to it, he just may have to drown the whole town.

The protagonist is the guy he goes to see about it. Our protagonist, of course, is not a big-time hoodlum with a heart of flint. Westlake doesn’t write that way. No, our guy is callous, certainly; selfish, no doubt. But he does not have anywhere CLOSE to the hard-heartedness required to drown a whole town. And so it devolves upon him to find a way to get the loot, but not kill the town.

Good luck with that.

Funny as hell, but of course, in a slightly dark way, like all of Westlake’s comic capers.

I confess that when a really amazing writer dies, I feel the impulse to review their work to reduce the possibility that it will fade into obscurity. I discovered Westlake’s work about a year after he died. He wrote for fifty years; his Dortmunder series, of which this novel is the seventh, is where most of his funniest stories are found. This title is my favorite among them…and yes. I hunted down every one of them, and when I could not buy them second hand, I asked for them as Christmas and birthday gifts until I had sucked the entire series dry.

I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I have.

A Swollen Red Sun, by Matthew McBride *****

A shudder went through me as I pressed the five star rating, but it’s true: this is among the very best of its genre. Think of Deliverance; think of The Shawshank Redemption on steroids. No…picture it on crank.

A Swollen Red Sun is set in the middle of the hills and “hollers” in Missouri, a long, long way from a real city, a miserable, impoverished place where some folks’ goal is just to find a nice, normal person to smoke crank with instead of all these crazies. (I am avoiding the direct quotation because I read a galley and the rules don’t allow me to use them, but the figurative language and many other well-turned passages here make it really really tempting.) All told, this horrific account of a small community that has rotted from the inside out will make you think long and hard about whether growing up out in a rural area will somehow keep your kids isolated and protected from all the drugs, crime, and gangs that you know big cities hold.

At least in those cities, there are wholesome choices to be made as well, such as museums, theaters, and video arcades. And at least in those cities, there will be someone to hear you scream.

In my own digital shelves, I labeled this grim but brilliant work as “crime fiction”, but that doesn’t really cut it (oh, if you’ll excuse the expression). It’s more like a horror story minus the supernatural elements. McBride stirs up plenty of horror without needing to summon spirits from the great beyond. His are right here on earth, and they do a fine job of giving the reader a case of the heebie-jeebies all by themselves.

Yet, curiously, this novel has just enough moments of relief, however momentary, to keep it from crossing my “ick” threshold. You know what I mean, right? Once in awhile I start reading a book that is so unrelentingly horrifying, contains deeds so nightmarish that I think, “I don’t want to spend my time with something like this,” and then walk around with a sour stomach for a week over what I have already read. I thought this one might go there, but it didn’t.

I have a friend who likes Patricia Cornwell just fine, but there are certain other writers that she’s told me she’ll take a pass on. When I finish a book by Stephen King, I don’t send it her way, and likewise, both Jan Burke and the non-Sherlock thrillers by Laurie B. King caused her to say, “It’s too much.” And for my friend, this story would also, I guarantee, be too much. Let that be your litmus test.

So my advice for you is this. If you like a fast-moving, original, complex thriller with plenty of skeletons in plenty of closets metaphorically, I promise this hardscrabble tale will hold your attention to the very end. If your nerve-endings are too tender for horror tales, or if you have recently had someone close to you die and you aren’t really over it, you may want to set this title aside, at least for now.

I would be amazed if there are no awards headed this author’s direction. It’s a powerhouse of a story, and there’s really nothing else like it.

A Bad Day for Sorry, by Sophie Littlefield*****

abaddayforsorryWhat? Five stars for this, a beach-read type novel? Well yes, because I think it is among the best in its genre. This darkly hilarious tale is really strong. It’s well paced and has enough quirkiness to be endearing without seeming overdone or contrived.

How many women out there have been subjected to domestic abuse? In talking with friends old and new, parents and students, colleagues and neighbors, I am amazed to see how many women go through it. It takes different forms; sometimes it is they who have been abused, and sometimes they learn, to their horror and sometimes guilt (for not having picked up on the cues), it is their children.

Domestic abuse is never funny.

The reason this story works is that it takes the inner vigilante that lurks within the hearts and minds of those who have been abused or love someone who has, and it plays out all sorts of revenge fantasies that in real life just can’t happen. This first in the series was nominated for all sorts of awards, and the competition must have been stiff or it would have won.

You can win, if dark humor appeals to you as it does to me, by getting this well-crafted spin and reading it.