Almost Missed You, by Jessica Strawser****

almostmissedyo“Fate, people liked to call it. But Violet pictured it as dominoes. Somehow, they’d been positioned perfectly. And at the end of the line was Finn.”

Thanks go to Net Galley and St Martin’s Press for the DRC for this intricately crafted novel, which I received free in exchange for an honest review. Unique and tightly woven, it’s sure to arrest your attention until the last page is turned. This book goes up for sale March 28, 2017.

Violet meets Finn while on vacation in Miami, and wild coincidences draw them together. They went to the same obscure, short-lived summer camp, and they’re both from Cincinnati. How crazy is that? And so when they come together again, it feels like something out of a fairy tale. They marry and have an adorable son they call Bear. Later they return to Miami as a little family.

Then Violet returns, warm and fulfilled, to the hotel room…and both Finn and Bear are gone, along with their luggage.

This is a story that speaks to every mother’s worst nightmare, the abduction of her child. Her baby! And Strawser plots it cleverly, so that the obvious answers are no longer feasible. Of course the police are called, but since there was no divorce, no restraining order, there’s only so much they can do. They have other cases as well. Meanwhile, Violet is both frantic and bewildered. She had thought they were so happy together; what on Earth happened here?

Our main characters are these two parents as well as their closest friends, Caitlin and George. George is a ruling class scion, and at the start of the book it seems as if this is overemphasized. At one point I enter it in my digital notes: put the trowel away already, we get it! But here I am mistaken, because the frequent references are here for a reason; that’s all I will say about that lest I ruin the end for you.

An endearing side character is Gram, the woman that raised Violet after her parents died. Older women tend to be stereotyped in novels; they are either background characters that emerge with cookies or chicken soup and then depart again to make way for the real characters, or they are the cause of all that is bad—shrews, harpies, abusers, enablers, nags. Gram has shrewd advice and insights. She’s not just a cardboard cutout.

The inner narratives, which alternate and in doing so build suspense, are where the strongest voices are found. The dialogue is nicely done, but not as effective as the narratives. And more than anything I have read recently, this book is driven by the plot. The ending is a humdinger.

Ordinarily I would call this a strong beach read, but mothers of tiny children might want to read it somewhere else. It’s a fine debut novel, and Strawser will be an author to watch in the future. Recommended to those that like strong fiction.

The Devil’s Country, by Harry Hunsicker****

thedevilscountryHarry Hunsicker is the former executive vice president of the Mystery Writers of America as well as a successful author. Reading this suspenseful and at times almost surreal tale makes it easy to understand why so many people want to read his work. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Thanks go to Net Galley and to Thomas and Mercer for the DRC, which I received in exchange for this honest review. This book will be available to the public April 11, 2017.

Arlo Baines, a former Texas Ranger, is on the road when it all unfolds; he’s stopped at the tiny town of Piedra Springs, traveling from one place to another by Greyhound Bus, and he doesn’t intend to stay. He finds a place to get some food, sticks his nose in a copy of Gibbon, and tries to ignore everyone around him. Friendly conversation? Thank you, but no.

Unfortunately for him, there’s a woman with kids, and she’s in big trouble. Clad in an outfit that screams sister-wife, she is terrified, tells him she is pursued, and next thing he knows, she is dead. What happened to the children? Before he knows it, Baines is hip deep in the smoldering drama of the Sky of Zion, a cult that has deep tentacles into the local business and law enforcement establishments.

The narrative shifts smoothly back and forth between the past and the present, and Baines’s motivation is revealed. He is on the move because his wife and child were murdered by corrupt cops, who he then had killed. One particularly chilling scene, the one in which Baines is told to leave town, gives me shivers. In general, however, I find that the scenes taking place in the present are more gripping and resonant than those in the past.

Interesting side characters are Boone, a retired professor with a crease on his head and flip-flops that are falling apart; the local sheriff, Quang Marsh; journalist Hannah Byrnes; and the bad guys in Tom Mix-style hats, with the crease down the front. Setting is also strong here, and I can almost taste the dust in my mouth as Baines pursues his quest in this little town with quiet determination. Every time I make a prediction, something else—and something better—happens instead. In places, it’s laugh-out-loud funny!

Readers that love a good thriller and whose world view leans toward the left will find this a deeply satisfying read. Hunsicker kicks stereotypes to the curb and delivers a story unlike anyone else’s. I would love to see this become a series.

Chaos, by Patricia Cornwell*****

chaos Patricia Cornwell has a publisher that doesn’t love bloggers, but her books kick ass. For this reason, this white-knuckle thriller was one of perhaps half a dozen books on my Christmas wish list for 2016. So here, in this spot where I traditionally thank the publisher and the site that facilitates them, I will instead thank Benjamin, his lovely wife Amie, and their baby boy. Between them, they gave me three delicious books, but this is the one I had to flip open as soon as the Christmas celebration was over; excuse me everyone, but I am off to bed with my box of Christmas candy and Patricia Cornwell. I am just now getting to the review, since DRCs get first priority, but I gobbled this book up before the New Year holiday.

Authors like Cornwell that write strong, long running thriller series have their work cut out for them. Whereas a debut novel and perhaps a few that follow can run along traditional lines, being trapped in a dark building with a killer on the premises somewhere; stuffed into the trunk of a vehicle (or the back seat with a gag and blindfold); held at gun point; family members kidnapped; it cannot go on forever. Eventually even the most faithful of readers is unwilling to buy into it anymore. Oh come on. No you didn’t.

The best of these writers—here I am thinking of Cornwell along with Sue Grafton, Sara Paretsky, James Lee Burke, GM Ford, and I know you are thinking of several more as you read this review—find a way to make the series deeper and richer through character development. There’s more inner narrative perhaps, and the tension is more of the psychological variety than constant action. And at this point in a series, the reader that really does want nonstop action will howl and toss down their book, but many others, myself among them, find myself more bonded to the character. And so it is with Kay Scarpetta, one of my favorite long running series protagonists.

This story is set in Boston, and at the outset, Kay is receiving some disturbing communications on her phone. The worst thing about them is that they play without her choosing to open them, and then they vanish, so she has no proof they were ever there. It doesn’t take long for her to conclude that the hack has been effected by nemesis Carrie Grethen, ex-lover of her beloved niece Lucy, whom she raised like a daughter and loves like no one else. Grethen has become Scarpetta’s Moriarty over the last several novels in this series. And Scarpetta wonders what these have to do with the young woman murdered in the park, a woman she spoke to briefly at an art exhibit and ran into later.

One of the things I love about this series is that Cornwell is unafraid to use her vocabulary. If someone out there doesn’t have the literacy level for it, let them stretch themselves to read this, or let them go away. In this era in which some writers are dumbing down their prose to meet the marketplace of American consumers with decreasing literacy levels, it’s a joy and a pleasure to find one that does not. The prose is richer, the descriptions more resonant than if she’d done otherwise.
As the story progresses, this psychological thriller takes on the contours of a nightmare in which everyone dear to Scarpetta—husband Benton, who’s with the FBI, Lucy, and Pete Marino—are all behaving in ways that make Scarpetta wonder whether they are deceiving her. Since every one of them has done so once before, the reader doesn’t regard Kay as paranoid, but rather fears for her.
Added into the picture is Kay’s sister Dorothy, who is Lucy’s mother. Kay and Dorothy hold a great deal of antagonism for one another, and an added twist is thrown in regarding sister Dorothy provides a huge surprise.

I note that cop Pete Marino, depicted in episodes gone by as a deeply flawed and disturbed individual, has been rehabilitated. Cornwell has tidied him up and Scarpetta has mostly forgiven his misdeeds of the past.

Should you pay full freight for this title? If you are a fan of the series and enjoyed the last one or two before this one, the answer is emphatically yes. Those new to the series might want to go for an earlier entry, as the series is much more fun when read in order. As of this writing, I also note that it’s available used online for less than five bucks, plus shipping charges. For others that are unsure, do remember that to develop character, Cornwell has to include a lot of details that have to do with the protagonist’s personal life. Some mystery readers just want the corpse, the puzzle, the guns, the action, and so if that describes you, see if you can read a sample before investing.

For fans of the series and of psychological thrillers, this book is highly recommended.

The Fall of Lisa Bellow, by Susan Perabo****

thefalloflisabellowI was fortunate enough to score a DRC of this suspenseful novel from Simon and Schuster and Net Galley. It’s a book that defies the usual genre niches, and for this and many other reasons I enjoyed it immensely. It will be available to the public March 14, 2017.

The premise is that Meredith Oliver, a middle school student, is present when the local deli is robbed. She and her frenemy, Lisa Bellow, are ordered to get down on the floor. When it’s all over, Lisa has been kidnapped, but Meredith is still there, traumatized but otherwise unharmed.

There are two key components that make this story a strong one. The first is characterization. Both Meredith and her mother, Claire, are so carefully rendered that by the end of the book I felt as if I could predict what either of them would say in any given situation. The second is plot, and here Perabo’s expertise in her field—she is a professor of English as well as a novelist—shines through. She gives us just enough information to keep us taut and engaged, skillfully meting out a taste here, an additional nugget there, while leaving us with some of our original questions and posing new ones.

You see, Meredith is here, but she isn’t; at least not all of the time. She suffers from survivor’s remorse, to be certain, but a completely second life, one in which she and Lisa are together, is woven into the narrative, and it leaves us wondering whether Lisa’s abduction has perhaps been arranged by Claire or even by Meredith, or horror of horrors, the two of them as confederates.

Another compelling aspect of this novel is the family. Prior to the accident, Meredith and Claire constitute half of a cozy middle class family. Both parents are dentists, her father the kind of upbeat but slightly clueless guy that operates in the day-to-day, gliding happily along life’s surface. He’s not a deep thinker. Meredith’s older brother Evan, who she adores, is an athlete with a future, a baseball player being courted by any number of colleges, until the accident occurs in which one eye is lost. The doctor that attends him tells the family bluntly, “Imagine stepping on an ice cream cone.”

As Meredith winks in and out of the world around her, the family also is strained almost to the breaking point.

Meredith’s voice is so richly crafted that it will take the reader back to middle school. The wrenching emotions, the jockeying for social position, the depth of devotion and the dark, searing hate are so powerful that as I look back on my years as an eighth grade teacher, I am amazed that any of my students was able to learn anything. The social subtext is impossible to ignore, and it sends little flags out constantly in small ways; shifted body language, the choice as to whether to speak to someone in the halls, choosing who to befriend not only based on the friend’s qualities but on what it will mean about one’s other school relationships—all these things constitute a full time job. Meredith loves algebra, and I thank the author for crushing the stereotype that says girls don’t do that. Yet the rest of Meredith’s classes tend to pass in a fog that is dominated by the social interaction that’s anticipated both in the next class and in the hallway during passing time. The locker room is a nightmare waiting to happen, a Lord of the Flies with meaningful glances and flipped hair taking the place of spears and fire.

I won’t give away the end of this story because it would completely ruin it for you, but at the same time, I found myself both relieved and oddly let down by the denouement.

Recommended to those that love strong fiction.

He Will Be My Ruin, by K.A Tucker***

hewillbemyruinMaggie Sparkes, heir to a fortune, is called to New York City when her closest friend, Celine Gonzalez, is found dead. Did Celine really commit suicide? Maggie doesn’t believe it for a minute, and when she finds Celine’s personal effects hidden away with a note, she believes it even less. Thanks go to Net Galley and Atria for the DRC and invitation to read and review this title. It was released February 2, 2017 and you can get a copy now.

Maggie and Celine grew up together; Celine’s mother Rosa was the housekeeper and nanny to Celine’s very wealthy family, and so apart from school, the girls were inseparable. Now Maggie is determined to find out what happened to Celine.

The cast of characters here is limited to Maggie, Celine’s neighbor Ruby, who was my favorite character, a cop named Doug, and two hunky men, both of whom were involved at some level with Celine. Jace is an investor; Grady is the property owner of Celine’s building, and both are described as immensely attractive. Who can be trusted? Who is a killer?

The limited number of characters and repetition—how wealthy and philanthropic Maggie is, how creative and hardworking Celine was—makes for an accessible read. The vocabulary is adult level but not out of range of the average reader. For those that are newly venturing into reading English language novels, this is a great place to start, because if something important slides by you the first time, you’ll be told again.

As for me, I prefer more nuance in my literature. When Maggie tells us how things went in high school, she wasn’t merely a debater, she was the captain of the debate team. Likewise, Celine wasn’t just a student actor, but scored the role of Juliet. Having both of them be so perfect within their realms of interest keeps them from seeming real to me. Maggie is rich, and we get told constantly in case we forgot. Maggie has a million charities and wants to save the world, and we’re unlikely to forget that either.

On the other hand, I wasn’t always this old and sometimes cynical. I can recall a younger version of myself that adored the writing of Victoria Holt, and I think that younger self might well have enjoyed this novel. Tucker is a successful, experienced novelist, and I have a hunch this is the pool of readers that find pleasure in her work.

Recommended to those that love Harlequin romances, Victoria Holt mysteries, and readers that enjoy romance but are still relatively new to reading in the English language.

Best of 2016: Mystery

This category includes everything within the same zone: thrillers, suspense, detective fiction, crime fiction. If it’s related, I’m rating it here. I expected this to be my toughest call because I read so many books of this genre, but when I had a look at the original titles I’d seen this year, and then eliminated those crossover novels that had already been awarded as the best of some other genre on this site, it was down to three books. Unbelievable…but not at all mysterious.

MY TOP THREE:

 

Good Behavior, by Blake Crouch****

goodbehaviorcrouchLast spring I advance- read and reviewed the riveting sci fi thriller Dark Matter, which was my introduction to author Blake Crouch, who has already met with success as a screenwriter. When I saw that something else he had written was up for grabs at Net Galley, I landed on it eagerly. Thanks go to them as well as Thomas and Mercer at Amazon for the DRC, which I received in exchange for this honest review.

Good Behavior consists of a trilogy of Letty Dobesh stories, along with a brief narrative that follows each one explaining how it was tweaked (pardon the pun) as it was adapted to television. Our protagonist herself is, in fact, a recovering meth addict, and there is only one activity that comes close to the rush she experiences when she uses it, and that’s crime. Not just the seamy survival type of theft; not just cleaning valuables out hotel rooms while the guests are off in tourist-land. A big theft with huge risk and a potentially tremendous payday provides the adrenaline rush Letty needs to stay clean, not forever, but for one more day.

Letty is a kick-ass character, a woman who’s been knocked down a million times and gotten back up a million and one. I love the way Crouch works her motivation. Actor-director Jodie Foster once commented that when men in the film industry want to reach the core of a character’s motivation, they reach every damn time for rape, and I’ve noticed that male authors do this with female protagonists a lot also. It’s a fascination they can’t seem to let go of. I am cheered to see that Crouch does something much different, with Letty’s main motivation being the need either to stay clean, or on bad days, the need to score. Behind the need to stay clean is the possibility of seeing her six year old son, Jacob, again. He is living in Oregon with his paternal grandparents; he’s in a stable, loving environment, and though Letty yearns to see him, she won’t let herself go there until she is convinced she can stay clean. But there are triggers out there in the everyday world that some of us could never have imagined:

“She could almost taste the smoke. Gasoline and plastic and household cleaners and Sharpies and sometimes apples. Oh yes, and nail polish.”

Around every corner, temptation calls to her. She can’t even get a pedicure without the fumes invoking a primal craving.

My hunch is that Letty will be with us a long time, and I am curious to see whether this child will remain six years old forever; grow up, but more slowly than real-time chronology; or be aged as if in real time. I can think of some hit mystery series that have been frozen in time to good effect. Crouch could keep Jacob small throughout the life of the series, and this might make more sense than having him grow up and be independent; on the other hand, this series is so full of surprises already that there’s no telling what will happen.

To see the first television episode, in which the protagonist’s name is different from the book:

https://www.goodbehavior.tntdrama.com/?sr=good%20behavior%20video

The first story involves a murder for hire. The second is a complicated rip-off of a billionaire who’s about to go to prison. The last and by far the best is a scheme to knock over a casino. The casino plot is proof positive that a relatively old concept (theft of a casino’s funds) can be made brand new in the right hands.

I believed Letty nearly all of the time; the only weak spot I see is when she considers dialing 911, a thing that former prisoners just never, ever do. No matter how big and ugly a situation gets, for someone who’s been in jail, and especially for those that have gone to a penitentiary, calling cops will only make it worse. Even if the caller is Caucasian, and even if she believes she can do so anonymously, cops are never desirable. They’re just not on the menu of choices anymore.

This is a super fast read, one that might make for a fantastic holiday weekend. There’s lots of dialogue, crisp and snappy. Best of all, it has just been released, and so you can get a copy now. If the turkey is dry and the marshmallows on your yams catch fire, Letty Dobesh can knock everything back into perspective for you.

Recommended to those that love dark humor and big surprises.

Doubt in the 2nd Degree, by Marc Krulewitch*****

doubtinthesecondThis is the fourth and best installment to date in the Jules Landau series. Thank you Net Galley and Alibi for the DRC, which I scooped on the date of publication in exchange for an honest review. This title is for sale now, and if you like a good whodunit, you should get it too.

The shores of Lake Michigan are inhabited by rich white people, and Jackie Whitney is one of them. Once she is found dead and stuffed on the shelf in her own walk in closet, however, the good times are over.  Kate, Jackie’s girl Friday who hails from Appalachia, is arrested and the public defender asks Jules to look into the case. She doesn’t trust the state’s own people to find reasonable doubt without some outside assistance, but she cautions him that she isn’t going to pay him to find out who did it; all she needs is for him to muddy the waters enough to prevent conviction.

She might as well spit into the wind.

Landau is fired up, and he knows that Kate will be convicted if he can’t find another suspect. Partly this is because cops like to wrap up a case, and once they think they have someone they can convict, they stop looking anywhere else; but there’s another reason, too:

“Corruption and Chicago followed each other like conjoined twins.”

The more rocks Landau turns over, the more suspects he finds. It’s getting to the point where he hardly has time to get home and feed the cat. There are many wry remarks that give this story its kick; it’s a novel that’s part noir, part cozy locked-room-mystery, and whereas the author’s disinclination to settle himself neatly into one area of the genre may cost him in sales, I have to admit that I really like it this way. His clear eye on class divisions and his snarky sense of humor lit me up like Christmas, and I can’t wait to see what he does next.

Although this is the fourth book in the series, I think it works just fine as a stand-alone novel.  Highly recommended!

The Vanishing Year, by Kate Moretti****

thevanishingyear 3.5 stars, rounded up for this one. I received my copy from Atria Books and Net Galley in exchange for an honest review.  I am impressed most by the first half of the book, and particularly with regard to character, Kate Moretti is a rock star.

Our protagonist is Zoe Whitaker, and we learn that Zoe grew up as Hilary—with one “L”, and no political baggage—and then chose to adopt “Zoe”, the name on her birth certificate prior to her adoption. There’s a lot more mess here than there needs to be, the adopted-child angst, the guilt over having not given her mother Evelyn the funeral she deserved, and fear, fear, fear.

Moretti does a wonderful job of building suspense, and part of this is the vague but real tension, the constant shoulder-checking, wondering if someone has found her. It makes us wonder who, and it makes us wonder why. Bit by bit, she unspools tidbits of the past in the way you might expect someone that needs a friend and is learning to trust a new confidant might do.

Moretti’s main character is beautifully sculpted. Some novelists that withhold information to build tension hang onto so much that we don’t get to know our protagonist, but I was perched right on Zoe’s shoulder, or hanging out with her newly discarded friend Lydia, asking her why the heck Zoe is so passive. Is fear the only language Zoe knows? I felt close to Zoe, and I wanted her to tell me more.

Meanwhile, there’s the marriage. Henry Whitaker, an immensely wealthy man, sees Zoe across a crowd and homes in on her. Those familiar with the patterns common to abusive relationships know that this is a red flag; the guy whose gaze lights on a partner and from then on wants full possession of every move, every thought, and every minute. He makes a snap decision like lightning and then never lets up. And Henry has plenty of other red flags too, but he’s not a stereotypic abuser; Moretti is too cunning to permit any caricatures into her novel.

For the first half of this story, I relished the meaty ambiguity, not only in Zoe’s life but in what it represents. Yes, Henry is too possessive, too bossy, but on the other hand, this young woman that has never been known for her remarkable beauty or extraordinary talent has the Cinderella marriage without the stepsisters.

“I might be under someone’s thumb, but I have money now.”

Zoe has no living relatives to her knowledge, apart from the birth mom she hasn’t located and that may not want her when she does. She doesn’t have a degree, and is working at a florist’s shop in Manhattan when Henry finds her and whisks her away. He is devoted to her, provides her with every small thing her heart desires. She has a car and a driver, she has servants, she has clothes, jewels, and the whole nine yards. Everyone defers to her. There’s no restaurant that won’t make room for her at the front of the queue. Tickets to a sold out event? No problem.

It is easy for us to moralize from afar, we feminists with our principles, but economic want can shorten a woman’s life significantly. As this reviewer heads into retirement, I look at the lives of the women I knew when we were school girls, and no matter how clever or talented, their material well being seems tied, more than anything, to who they married and whether they remained married. Ask any woman over age 50 who’s looking for a job and watching those past-due notices land in her mailboxes, both electronic and physical, and many of those same women would be more than happy to let someone else tell them what to wear in exchange for such a well-padded safety net.

And so as Henry’s behavior escalates, I grow more entranced with the story’s Virginia Woolfish aspect, and I expect Moretti to take us up that mountain. How much is too much? At what point does one relinquish the guarantee, if there is one, of not only the basic requirements but luxuries one may quickly grow accustomed to, in exchange for breathing room, the dignity that comes with independence, self-respect, and with apologies to Woolf, possibly a room of one’s own?

But Moretti doesn’t go in that direction; at the last minute she tosses in a tremendous amount of new information that is original yet seriously far-fetched. Those that want a white-knuckle thriller with a female protagonist may be very happy here, but I was sad, left feeling as if the waiter had decided not to serve me and abandoned me after the hors d’oeuvres.

This title was released on October 4, and so if you are eager to see what all the buzz is about, get a copy, and then let me know what you think.

One way or another, Moretti will be a novelist to watch. The subtlety and nuance that escaped her as this novel progressed are still hers to be had, if she chooses to use them. I know I can’t wait to see what she publishes next.

Nothing Short of Dying, by Erik Storey***

nothingshortofdying Nothing Short of Dying is Storey’s first novel, and it’s full of no-holds-barred action. Despite some inconsistencies, it’s a good read, featuring a protagonist alienated, as so many Americans are, by time spent in prison. In some ways it is very much a tale of 2016 America. I received my DRC free and in advance in exchange for my honest review; thanks go to Net Galley and Scribner.

Our protagonist is Clyde Barr, and since the novel is labeled “Clyde Barr #1”, we’ll be seeing him again. Barr is back on the outside. He’s spent so much time away, between prison and time spent in Third World nations, that the rampant consumerism he finds upon returning to US society and the vast number of choices over trivial things overwhelms him. He wants to head to the Yukon and enjoy some time in the woods, but before he can do that, he gets word that his younger sister Jen, who’s very close to him because of shared childhood trauma, is in trouble and needs to be rescued.

I’d seen evil on three continents, some of it unspeakable, but it seemed worse in this place I called home. On a different continent, everything—good and bad—can seem strange, alien. But you don’t expect to come back to places that seem too familiar and discover the greatest evil of all.

Despite the occasional moment in which a female does something proactive, Storey’s plot is full of damsels in distress, and Barr’s whole mission is to save his sister, and then later to also run to the rescue of another woman that appears along the way, but to whom he grows inexplicably attached in a really short time. Character development is shallow, but I can see that an effort is made. Storey also uses the unsavory technique of identifying a bad guy by having him use nasty, racist language. But this is not one of those books I only finish due to a deal with the publisher; I genuinely want to see where this one is going and how it will come out.

Barr is a rough and tumble type, the kind of guy that makes his truck start by kicking the side panels and door and slamming his fist on the hood. It makes me like him.

Not so appealing is his reaction to the irritated woman working in the bar: “On her the expression looked cute.”

However, the thing that resonates most for this reviewer is that when trouble comes calling and another character asks him whether they ought not to call police, Barr says no:

“’They probably have guns.’

“’So do I,” I said.’”

The fact is that Barr flies under a black flag. He doesn’t care about preserving evidence; in fact, it improves things if his fingerprints are nowhere close to any of the messes he either starts or finds himself part of. And fifteen years ago, I don’t think a book like this would’ve found a reputable publisher like Scribner. Barr is our hero, but he has no respect for officers of the law, and his inclination is to solve problems and even make a living in a way that goes around US law rather than in accord with it.

But today so many ordinary, decent people have either done time for something most countries wouldn’t consider to be a lock-up kind of offense, or have a loved one that is or was imprisoned, that alienation from cops and the sometimes the law has become the new normal. I write this from a middle class neighborhood in mellow Seattle, a place where the neighborhood association sat down with a representative from SPD to ask that they let us solve our own problems and quit sending officers here to stalk every Black kid that drives, walks, or gets off a city bus. And I know this scenario is playing out across the nation, but it’s worse in down-and-out areas where people prefer to hide from cops, or film them, because nobody from the cop shop is going to come out to have coffee and chat with the locals.

When you have no power, nobody from downtown cares what you want. And so I think a story like this one will find a receptive audience. There is really no Officer Friendly; if you can’t avoid problems, you have to deal with them yourself nine times out of ten.

This novel, the reader should know, is brutal, violent, and grim. There are torture scenes. The pacing is almost always lightning fast, with lots of fast driving and shooting; the pace only slows in one area, and that is whenever Barr has to build a campfire out in the middle of nowhere, we get a detailed lesson in how this is done.  Once I was on my second detailed campfire lesson, I made a note in my tablet. Why are we suddenly stopping for another campfire lecture? But in general, the action travels at warp speed. You have to have the stomach for it, though. But I am a retired English teacher, and there are stories I don’t want to read because they are too graphic; this one stayed inside my ick-boundary by a tiny margin. So if you’re still reading my review and considering reading this book, likely you’ll be okay.

I made a more positive note at the end of chapter 23, because it flowed really well.

A favorite passage is when Barr is hobbling up the mountainside on an injured leg, “sucking air like a sun-stroked impala.” Storey’s figurative language is strong in a number of places, and it helps keep the pages turning.

The story’s denouement left a bare thread dangling in a somewhat obvious way, but this is the writer’s first installment in the series. With strong imagery, a clear plot line, and action, action, action, I know this is a writer to watch. I look forward to seeing the next Clyde Barr novel; this one was released recently, and you can get a copy of your own right now.

With the caveats above, I recommend you read this adrenaline-coursing thriller.