Depraved Heart, by Patricia Cornwell*****

depravedheartI’ve been reading Cornwell for over a decade. Her Scarpetta series is curiously addictive, a bit like curling up in my favorite chair with a furtive pint of gelato and maybe a ridiculous TV show or YouTube clip. But in thinking that way, I sell Cornwell short. She started out strong; floundered just for a short time; and now she is better than ever. And perhaps you are waiting for a disclaimer saying that I read it free, but in fact I did not. I’ve yet to see Cornwell’s work on Net Galley. The kindle version popped up as the deal-of-the-day for four bucks, and I grabbed it while I could.

It was worth it.

We open with Kay Scarpetta’s head in a really bad place. Those that follow her series will recall that the previous novel ended with her being shot in the leg with a harpoon by a villain we had believed to be dead. Scarpetta is fragile now, both physically—that leg will never be the same—and mentally. She jumps at shadows now. Unfortunately, not everything is in her head; as the story opens, Scarpetta’s niece, Lucy, is having her home ransacked by the FBI. At the same time, Scarpetta’s phone has been hacked—certainly a fear to which all of us can relate—and a creepy video clip of Lucy from long ago, including Lucy doing things that are illegal—is shown on Kay’s phone, beyond her control and without Lucy’s knowledge, while Scarpetta is working a crime scene. Once the clip is over it vanishes, leaving no record or proof that it occurred. Soon thereafter, a huge black helicopter follows Scarpetta and cop Pete Marino, a series regular, to the estate Lucy shares with her partner Janet and a small child in Janet’s custody.

Every mystery writer that is successful enough to have a long-running series is faced with credibility issues eventually. One character, whether gumshoe, cop, forensic pathologist, butcher, baker, or candlestick maker can only encounter a certain number of traumas in his or her lifespan before even the most enthusiastic readers will say, “Okay. Wait a minute. Are we getting captured and tossed into the trunk of a car again? Seriously?”

The best series writers are able to forestall this in two ways that I have seen. The first and most critical is that more of the story is about character development—the protagonist’s, and sometimes those close to the protagonist, and so we are invested in the outcome of the problem because we care so much about our hero. And if a writer is really strong, as Cornwell is, she can make us care about the lives and problems of regular side characters also.

The second way longstanding series writers get away from repeating the classic or even trite gumshoe stand by scenarios, such as I’m-being-framed-and-must-prove-my-innocence, or The-bad-guys-have-threatened-to-harm-someone-in-my-family-if-I-don’t-follow-their-demands-so-I’m-going-to-catch-them, is by being totally bad ass writers. By this I mean that either they go ahead and use the stupid devices I just mentioned but they do it so well we don’t care, maybe don’t even realize they’ve done it till the story is over; or they find another way to ramp up the tension without employing those tired devices. Cornwell scores big in this department with Depraved Heart.

Rather than wondering about the threat of evil, possibly death, that may come from outside her nearest and dearest family—including people like Marino who she considers family—part of the threat appears to be coming from within it. So we have this stark psychological thriller; for example, given that Scarpetta’s husband Benton works for the FBI, isn’t it odd that he didn’t say anything about the bust on Lucy’s place? Isn’t it strange that he won’t answer her texts?  But then given how jumpy and shaky Kay Scarpetta is, and the fact that she is defying doctor’s orders in order to do the things she is doing, we also wonder…hey Kay, are you all right?

Maybe what she actually needs is a pile of meds and a good long nap.

So we have the suspense of fearing external threats; fearing treachery from somewhere within the family; and added fear that Kay has finally just straight-up lost it. And then there’s the fear that Kay is right to feel threatened, but that others will disbelieve her, and we see their skepticism.

I have to tell you, this is a fast read, partly because of the amount of dialogue but also because the pacing is electric!

By now, you probably already know whether you are a Scarpetta fan or not. If you are on the fence, this should pull you over onto the side of avid readers. If you have never read a book in the Scarpetta series, don’t start with this one. Get a copy of the first in the series, or as close to the first as you can get, and work your way forward, because a lot of the reader’s sense of urgency is spun from the bond we have already formed with the protagonist and those close to her in previous installments. It’s not a good series to enter from the middle.

But for Scarpetta fans, this is a must-read!

The Disappeared, by Roger Scruton***

thedisappearedThe Disappeared was published in UK, and is now available to readers in the USA. Scruton shines a spot light on victims of domestic violence, trafficking, and rape. It’s a timely issue, and no one can read his story and walk away unmoved. Thanks go to Bloomsbury Reader for inviting me to read and review the DRC free in exchange for an honest review. This book is available to the public tomorrow, February 26.

The stories evolve around three women’s stories; we have Sharon, Muhibbah, and the reader is the third, with the narrative switching to the second person, a woman being abducted and raped on board a ship: “…you are nothing but female meat.”

The default for the second-person character is female, which I found gutsy and laudable. Unfortunately, positive treatment of women in this novel begins and ends here…and the second-person character is going to be raped right away.

Justin and Stephen are the two goodhearted men that are trying to assist Muhibbah and Sharon, both of whom are being cruelly abused at home. In each case, it is an immigrant that is doing the abusing. And here I winced.

On the one hand, I can see that Scruton is letting us know that the cultural mores of Islam should not be considered a legitimate excuse for domestic abuse. He clearly can’t do that without including a Muslim woman. Yet if we could have some positive depiction of a Muslim individual somewhere within the text to cut across the stereotype that is so widespread, and which this novel tends to embrace, it would make for better literature and a fairer accounting. Because not all Muslim families hurt their women. I have taught Muslim girls in Seattle that are well educated and whose parents permit them to choose what their futures will hold. Scruton’s depiction of only sneaky, violent, and abusive Muslims makes for a two dimensional telling, which is a shame, because his academic background and word-smithery indicate he is capable of better things.

The central part of the novel slows, and here the plot drags when the writer tries to do too much with a single story. Justin lapses into philosophical musing, which would perhaps work for mainstream fiction or romance genres, but not as much for a suspenseful, missing-woman mystery or thriller. The character worries about the environment, and a lot of detail is given to wind farms and solar panels that not only fails to move the plot forward, but brings all action to a halt. He loses himself in heavy metal music, and several pages are suddenly devoted to hard rock. What? Why? Scruton is by trade a philosopher above all else, but to write a strong thriller, the message has to be driven home through story only. A drifting inner narrative in the midst of what has been action, action, and more action leaves the reader feeling cheated.

Toward the end of the novel, the pace quickens once more, and ultimately the three narratives are braided together at the story’s end in a way that is masterful.

Spoiler: don’t read past this point if you want the ending to be a complete surprise.

I find myself perturbed at the gender stereotypes that seem to belong to another era. Women here are either victims, sex objects, or both. The only female professional is one that steps in as a bureaucrat and foils the rescue effort one of our two male heroes is attempting. In addition, I found myself wondering why neither man can use his position and authority to lend comfort and aid without either becoming sexually involved with the girl or woman he is trying to help, or wanting to do so. The 16 year old girl that can’t get over her crush on the older male teacher and immediately drops her clothes for him despite his reticence sounds like something out of a men’s magazine. No, no, and no.

Scruton is an experienced writer, and is eloquent in painting a portrait of abused women hidden in plain view in the major urban centers of Western, developed nations. If he can cut across stereotypes and introduce greater complexity as he develops his characters, the next novel will be even better.

Far From True, by Linwood Barclay****

farfromtrueBarclay is an established writer, with a number of best sellers to his credit, but he was new to me. My thanks go to Net Galley and Berkley Publishing Group for providing me with a DRC in exchange for an honest review.

And indeed, it does take a pro to weave such an intricate plot so adroitly. But let’s take it from the top and go from there.

The story is set in Promise Falls, an ironically named town that contains more trouble than you can imagine. The initial crisis takes place at the drive-in movie theater, the last showing before the place closes up and the property is sold. But then the unthinkable happens.

Like most disasters, this one triggers a flurry of other emergencies erupt related to the victims of the theater tragedy. There are greedy relatives, heartsick loved ones, and other events and individuals that are just bizarre. And then there are more bodies, and the number “23” appears over and over again, a grim warning.

Some mystery novels are great for the classroom. This one isn’t. In fact, if I were a school librarian I wouldn’t buy it either. Leave this one for consenting adults.

For us, there is more flexibility. There are some parts that are more sexually explicit than your average detective novel, and readers know whether or not they find this appealing. If you have read Barclay’s other mysteries, perhaps you already have some notion of what is in store. But if, like me, you come to this title without having read the first book in the Promise Falls series, you can dive in as if it were a stand-alone mystery. There is no prior knowledge assumed.

I liked the story in spite of the kinky stuff that reached beyond my own perception of what is tasteful. The suspense was so palpable, and the many subplots so well woven throughout the text that I expected to rate this title five stars. I read several books at a time, and for awhile this was my “dessert” mystery, the book I reached for after I had dispatched my obligation to the publisher for a title I had not enjoyed as much. While there were a couple of situations that confused me sometimes—we have two new couples that are starting a relationship while all this unfolds, and I tended to mix them up, and which kid was whose again?—most of the characters were distinct and developed sufficiently that I knew who they were and what they were like when the story bounced back to their point of view. Frequent changes in setting, character, and point of view heightened the suspense.

I was eternally grateful not to have a protagonist agonizing over whether or not to stop at the bar, whether or not to have just one beer. Heaven save me from any more agonized alcoholic main characters. And so this was a relief.

Ultimately though, the ending left me feeling cheated, and that is where the final star fell off my rating. To be sure it was a surprise ending, but it felt dissonant and tacked on. I often can’t tell how much I like a good story until I see the ending, and that was surely true here.

Nevertheless, it’s a solid piece of fiction, and worth your time and dime. Unless you have deep, deep pockets, I don’t think I would go full hard jacket price for this one, but if you can obtain it at a discount, digitally, or in paperback, it’s a fun read for a chilly late winter weekend.

This title will be available for purchase March 8.

Hail Storme, by W.L. Ripley**-***

HailStormeIn 2015, I reviewed Storme Front, the second of four books in the Wyatt Storme series. I loved it and rated it 5 stars. Given the opportunity to read and review this first in the series, thanks to Brash Books Priority Reviewers Circle, I didn’t have to think twice. Thank you to Brash for the DRC, which I read free in exchange for this review.

In this first installment, Storme, a retired football hero and Vietnam veteran, goes bow hunting for deer in Missouri and runs into trouble. Tracking deer, he literally walks into a field of marijuana; before he can decide what if anything to do about it, a snarling Doberman charges him, and he has to kill it. From there, the action unspools, taking him into town and leading the reader to a series of conversations and confrontations Storme has with the local law, the local goons, and of course, women.

The local law can’t quite decide what to make of him:
“’You a wiseass, Storme?’ McKinley asked.
“I shrugged. ‘It’s a gift.’”

Of particular interest is Willie Boy Roberts, a local businessman that has full time body guards, here in this tiny town. So right away, we know there’s trouble a-brewing that extends far beyond a simple field o’ weed.

Storme also meets Chick Easton, who will become his wisecracking, crime-fighting partner continuing on into the series. Easton has been a green beret, has killed people for the CIA, and is also a Vietnam vet. He has considerable regret about the life he has led, but he’s a great guy to have in your corner. He also provides the perfect counterpart for all of the genuinely funny snappy patter in the book.

I also genuinely appreciated, as I did with the second Storme book, having a protagonist that drinks coffee rather than whiskey or beer, but doesn’t constantly agonize over his alcoholism. It seems like two out of three works of fiction these days feature alcoholic protagonists or important secondary characters, and I have had my fill. Just pour the coffee and shut up already! A welcome change.

This first novel started out a little bit uneven, but hit its stride well before the halfway mark. I really thought it would be a four star read till I got to the last ten percent. There, it gets ugly. There’s a steady stream of anti-gay venom. Easton discusses a suspect with Storme, and he deliberately lisps—gee, I’m not laughing—and does the whole limp-wristed thing when he speaks of the character’s possible motivation. I won’t say more here lest I spoil a (small) part of the whole who-dunnit, but there is so much ugliness toward gay men, not just the offensive jokes, but some plot moves that left me feeling as if I’d eaten spoiled food, packed into this last portion of the book that it’s impossible to disregard it and move on.

I checked the copyright date, longing for something that would permit me to give this otherwise really good story the four stars it deserved up to then. It was originally published in the 90’s. No, no, no. Not okay.

Because of this factor, I rate this novel 2.5 stars and round it up with a fair amount of ambivalence.

The writer makes a point, subtle yet distinct, that Storme is a Christian. Fine with me. But if the anti-gay aspect of this novel is tied to dearly held principles Ripley possesses, I can’t become a constant reader. If it was simply a failure of the writer to update his work to reflect a more widely held social view—and here I am thinking of the occasional novel that gets written, sits on someone’s desk for several years, and then sees publication much later—then he and Brash might want to have a conversation about editing. Don’t get me wrong; I support the First Amendment right to express one’s ideas freely. But when those ideas brim over into hate speech and homophobia, I also can’t give a positive review, or consider myself a potential customer of the work presented me.

If you are homophobic and love mysteries, this one is your book, and it’s available for purchase now. Otherwise, consider moving on to Storme Front. You don’t have to have read the first in the series to enjoy the second.

Am I game to read #3 and #4, knowing that #2 is free of these challenging issues? If I can get the DRC’s for them, I’ll dive right in. Everyone is entitled to make a mistake early in their career. But right now, I wouldn’t lay my money down

Bonita Faye, by Margaret Moseley****

bonitafayeBrash Books has a new release, and it’s exactly the kind of novel you’d want to take to a warm sandy beach, or perhaps just to curl up with while the snow falls. I was permitted an advance glimpse, courtesy of Brash Books Priority Reviewers Circle. It was originally published in 1997, but due to be released again February 23, 2016. You’re in for a good time with this one.

Bonita Faye is our protagonist, of course, and although her story has been compared to Fannie Farmer’s work, I found her to be more of a female, less extreme version of Forrest Gump. The narrative begins in a dialect that is semi-literate; the setting is partly in Poteau, Oklahoma and partly elsewhere. Bonita Faye is born poor and without any real source of support, but rises above it through means that are both ingenious and at times, very funny. Although the story is ostensibly a mystery, we don’t need to know who-dunnit, because Bonita Faye did it. All of it.

Because some of us don’t need a knight to ride to our rescue. Some of us can take care of ourselves.

Although I found the protagonist to be engaging, I think the novel would actually be strengthened by pulling back a bit on the cornpone dialect. There is also a point at which her education is improved and her English becomes more eloquent, but then for no discernible reason, she falls back into the same aw-shucks dialect she had initially.

There are multiple characters that are developed besides Bonita Faye. I liked Claude (“Oink oink!”) and also Simone. I had trouble buying into the second half of the thread involving Michel. I also found the thread with Elly to be problematic, although I loved the final resolution of the problem that develops toward the end.

When push comes to shove, Margaret Moseley is a force to be reckoned with, and I look forward to seeing more of her work in the future. Those looking for a fun, accessible vacation read should order this book.

The Pot Thief Who Studied Georgia O’Keefe***

thepotthiefwhostudiedgeorgiaoI read this book at the invitation of Open Road Integrated Media and Net Galley. Thank you to both parties. This title is one of several in a series that I had not encountered before. The pot in question is the ancient artifact sort, not the type that people grow and smoke. The author manages to work several disparate and esoteric topics into a single novel, but not necessarily to its benefit. My own viewpoint is that a high profile editor might be of great use here.

The protagonist, Hubie Schuze, is an archaeologist who has decided that ancient ruins are wasted if they are left where their owners chose to bury them, or if they are made available to everyone by placing them in a museum. He likes to dig them up and sell them to private collectors, and this is how he makes a living; he regards himself as “a short Indiana Jones”, but recognizes that the similarities are superficial at best.

Of course, anyone that makes a living through illegal means will tell you that there’s very little recourse if the client stiffs him; he can’t report them to the cops, and he can’t take them to court, either. It’s a dubious situation at best, but the protagonist is enthusiastic, and chooses to continue digging up artifacts and selling them. There is one place he hasn’t been able to access, however, and that is the area cordoned off on the nuclear reservation. Through various nefarious methods, he manages to sneak onto the reservation and find some treasure.

In this story, Hubie has partnered himself with Sharice, a beautiful African-Canadian who’s had a mastectomy. She is also a virgin when the story begins.

The enjoyable part of this story is the way the author incorporates word play into his protagonist’s snappy narrative. Also, I haven’t read many novels set in New Mexico, and so the setting was a refreshing change from more frequently chosen locations.

On the downside, there are too many side issues. If the interracial relationship is controversial, which the narrative indicates it is, then let’s have a mystery and a controversial relationship. Or, let’s have a mystery and breast cancer. Or, let’s have a mystery and O’Keefe’s art. This novel feels as if too many ingredients have been thrown in, and they can’t blend into a cohesive whole as a result.

The protagonist is difficult to like, given that he is pillaging ruins to which he has no legal or moral right, but I have read novels with unlikable protagonists before, and it isn’t necessarily a deal breaker. Sometimes the protagonist becomes more likable as the character is developed; sometimes a side character is developed and we find ourselves drawn to him or her as they interact with the protagonist. Sometimes the whole point of the novel is to watch the unlikable protagonist struggle and develop. That didn’t happen here.

Possibly the greatest hindrance, though, had nothing to do with the characters; every time the plot started to gain momentum, we would have to pause for a cooking lesson. God save us all from story arcs held hostage by one recipe after another. At the 78% mark I threw up my hands, skipped to the end, and called myself done with this novel.

Which I am.

This book is available for sale to the public January 26, 2016.

Black-Eyed Susans Giveaway; My Very First!

I am pumped about this! I was contacted by a rep from Net Galley and offered a copy of Ballantine’s hot new mystery for a blog giveaway, which I have not done before. I hope a lot of people will enter. If you’d like to be included in the drawing, which will occur at the end of this week in a totally random manner, please go down to the bottom of the page where it says “Leave a Reply”. Type in your name (or a pseudonym for now if you prefer) and an e-mail address where I can reach you. If you win, I will send a message to your e-mail, and at that point you need to give me a real name and snail mail address, which will be released only to the Net Galley rep.

I promise not to use your e-mail address for anything else. Actually, I don’t have an e-mail list to sell, and I don’t have anyone to sell it to. But if someone pops up and offers me great riches, I will turn them down…I promise!

This page will dominate my blog for the whole week. As a refresher, here’s the review again, and the attention-getting cover:

BlackEyedSusansTessa is the sole survivor of a group of young women who were left for dead in a mass grave, which was then planted with flowers. The Black-Eyed Susans became a metaphor for the trauma she experienced. This thriller, Heaberlin’s first following a highly respected career in journalism, is a great read with a few problems, most of which have to do with trying to cram too many details into a single novel. It was looking like 3.5 stars to me until it passed the halfway mark; then it hit its stride. Ultimately, the eloquent manner in which issues surrounding the death penalty were braided into the narrative won the final .5 star from this reviewer. And at this point, I have an obligation to tell you I read the book free, and to say thank you to Net Galley and Random House Ballantine for the DRC. The book will be available to the public August 11.

Tessa is an adult, a single parent, and it’s been twenty years since her abduction and attempted murder. There are memories she tries to bury, and there are other niggling details that she can’t make sense of. In a writing style somewhat reminiscent of Jodi Picoult, Heaberlin flashes us back and forth from Tessa’s adolescent memories to the present, a life in which her sole objective at first is to protect her own teenage daughter, Charlie, whom she is afraid may pay the ultimate price. Because Tessa’s stalker has been planting Black-Eyed Susans in her yard and various other places, and she is scared half to death.
Strange, threatening packages appear in the mail. And her best friend Lydia disappeared mysteriously not long after the trial. There are so many shadows, so many possible threats out there that her inclination is to retreat into her artist’s studio, and into her home. Don’t rock the boat.

The problem is that an innocent man is about to become one more victim of Texas’s capital punishment. Her supposed attacker, the supposed killer of the other Susans, waits on death row…and the clock is ticking. She knows he didn’t do it, and she’s been holding out. Once she decides to testify to his innocence, will she be believed? Can she get there in time?

A tremendous amount of research went into teenage trauma and its possible affects, and the capital punishment process (and the process of its defense) in Texas. Heaberlin has done her homework; if anything, she may have done a little too much, or tried to incorporate too much of her work into one novel. Somewhere around the 37 percent mark, I found myself not mystified, but confused. What were all these references to the OJ Simpson trial doing here? Who the hell is Jo? Is Lydia dead, moved away, or what? The suspense fell away while I stopped reading in irritation to go back over the book and try to discern what I had missed or forgotten.

However, just before the halfway mark, the author found her stride and everything came together. From that point till ninety percent, I was riveted. Portions of the text approached the level of literary fiction. I found myself questioning my earlier complaints, and went back and reread the passages I had marked earlier to see whether I had just been distracted, or in a snarky frame of mind. But no, the inconsistency is really there.

The supernatural bits about the other Susans being in her head, talking beyond the grave, may have turned up in the author’s research as a possible outcome of trauma, but they felt extraneous to me, as if they had been shoe-horned into the text. If I had been her editor, I would have cut them.

I was not entirely happy with the ending, which felt a bit contrived, but I was so deeply satisfied by what I had read up to that point that I didn’t feel let down.

My advice to the reader is this: if you are opposed to the death penalty and love a good thriller, get a copy of this novel. I think you’ll find it as satisfying as I did. You may want to flag pages where you have questions with sticky notes, or mark it digitally if you read it that way; later on it will all make sense.

And whatever you do, remember: there are no millionaires on death row. Not in Texas, and not in any other state that has capital punishment in the USA.

The Big Book of Christmas Mysteries, by Otto Penzler *****

TheBigBookofXmas

I received this wonderful collection last year as an ARC from the “first read” program via the Goodreads.com giveaways. At the time, I didn’t have a blog; I reviewed it on Goodreads and because I liked it so well, I also reviewed it on amazon. Then, while I was on the site, I bought two copies to give as gifts. I have never done that with an ARC before or since (so far), but it is so wonderful that I wanted others to have it, and I wasn’t willing to share mine.

Now the season is upon us. This blog will be punctuated by worthwhile Christmas books of a secular variety. I guess it is a typical retired-teacher behavior to decorate my home with brightly jacketed Christmas books when others are getting out their craft supplies and hot glue guns. At any rate, if you buy just one Christmas book for yourself or someone else, and if the reader enjoys mysteries, this is the best you will find.

The stories are organized according to category in a format and layout that is congenial all by itself. There are ten sections, starting with “A Traditional Christmas”, with the first entry being one by Agatha Christie; it is a story that has aged well, and I don’t remember having read it even though I thought I’d read everything by that writer. There are a few more, and range from just a few pages, double columns on each page, to 25 or 30 pp. Then we move on to “A Funny Little Christmas”. The first there is a story by the late great Donald Westlake, and I gobbled it up and then felt bad that I hadn’t saved that story for last, because I adore his work and he’s gone and can’t write anything more. But I perked up when I noted that yet another section, “A Modern Little Christmas”, has an unread (by me) story by Ed McBain. There are many others. The final section, “A Classic Little Christmas”, bookends the anthology neatly by finishing with Dame Agatha. All told there must be about sixty stories, maybe more.

The anthology, edited by the brilliant and acclaimed Otto Penzler, is billed as having a number of rare or never-published short stories, and I think it’s a true claim. There are many mystery writers I’ve read and enjoyed here, and others I had never even heard of, but found immensely entertaining. I haven’t skipped any yet, but even if I find something I don’t care to read, the book is worth owning. I know that already. It is also billed as an anthology to warm the heart of any grinch, and indeed, there has been at least one story with a satisfyingly creepy ending.

One of the charming things about anthologies is that one can read a single story in a sitting and not feel too bad when it’s time to put the bookmark in and go get something done. Then it waits there to greet us as we return from executing less pleasurable tasks, a reward that invites us to sit down, curl up with good cup of coffee or the dog or both and have a cozy read. It also makes the book a lovely thing to keep where guests can access it, because they can enjoy it even if they haven’t time to read more than a story or two in between other activities.

…but I’m keeping you. You could be reaching for your car keys, your bus pass, or even better, going to another window to find this book online and order it. Once you see it, you will most likely feel as I do…unwilling to part with your own copy, yet yearning to get at least one more for somebody else! Get the plastic out and do it right away.