Category: Blog Series Page 217 of 220

I Am Princess X by Cherie Priest (Kali Ciesemier, Illustrator)

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On June 12, 2015

In Authors, Blog Series, Cherie Priest, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Opening Lines, P-U, YA/MG/Children's Books

I Am Princess X I Am Princess X

by Cherie Priest, Kali Ciesemier, Illustrator

Hardcover, 227 pg.
Arthur A. Levine Books, 2015

Read: June 4, 2015

This book starts off just like the book description tells you — it’s practically an outline of the first 40 pages. Somehow, even if all they were doing was fulfilling the book jacket copy, the opening chapters sucked me in more and more with each detail until the last sentence on page 35. That line was just creepy. At that point, I put my finger in the book to save the page, called to my daughter (who’d showed minor interest on the book) and told her that unless Priest screwed things up, she had to read this (and seriously , what were the odds of Priest doing that?).

Years after the death of her best friend, Libby, May starts to see drawings around town of something the two had created together (and no one else knew about). How is that possible? She does everything she can to find out, but that doesn’t tell her anything other than that there’s a (pretty popular) webcomic out there starring their creation. There’s a self-proclaimed computer guru (Patrick — he prefers Trick, though) living a few floors below her dad that May hires/cons into going the extra technological mile for her. Their investigation doesn’t remain online, and before long the two are running all over Seattle. They dance between employer/employee; condescending college-aged twerp/younger, slightly naive teen; pals throughout in a way that seems organic and real. It’s probably the most realistic thing in the book after the death of Libby. While I’m talking about them — the hijinks the pair get into in the cemetery result in either the funniest or the grossest line of dialog I’ve read this year. Possibly both.

This isn’t the kind of comic/prose hybrid that Jeff Kinney, James Patterson, Stephen Pastis, etc. are doing — Priest uses the comic pages (taken from the fictional webcomic) to further the plot, to help us see what May and Trick are reading/seeing. Rather than trying to describe (and likely not succeeding all that often) a series of panels and the artwork, we just get them. Shorter, sweeter, to the point. A great merger of the two media. Ciesemier’s art is spot-on, I could easily read a webcomic she draws.

This is a YA novel with no love triangle, no romantic love period — that’s practically enough of a sales pitch for me right there. Friendship — that’s the emotional core driving this. The old friendship between Libby and May, that death hasn’t changed too much; the budding friendship between May and Trick, and another one that’s in spoiler territory. Nowhere along the lines is there even a whiff of anything else between these characters. What a breath of fresh air! There’s some actual parenting (not perfect, but humans trying) along the line, too — a couple of pretty good dads — something else I don’t see a lot in YA. So yay there, too.

It’s an implausible story grounded in three real characters (May, Trick and May’s dad) — and a couple of others that could have been as grounded if we’d gotten a few more pages from them. For the story this is trying to tell? That’s just enough to carry it.

We see the villain enough to find him threatening and somewhat believable, learn enough about him to support that, but not enough that we can develop any sympathy for him — he’s mostly shadow, which frequently feels like under-writing or a cheat by the author. But here it felt like a device to underline the threat he poses.

This is pure escapist adventure reading — no muss, no fuss, no frills. The story matches the medium of a webcomic pretty well. Sure, it could’ve been a deeper, more reflective novel — or even a slightly more realistic one. But it doesn’t need to be. Have I rated better written/constructed novels lower than this? Oh yeah. But this novel was exactly everything it promised to be, everything it needed to be. This grabbed me from the start and didn’t let go until it was done.

As an added bonus for people like me, I’m pretty sure there’s a tip o’ the hat to Robert B. Parker in these pages. That just brought a smile to my face.

—–

—–

4 1/2 Stars

The Fold by Peter Clines

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On June 11, 2015

In Blog Series, Fiction, Opening Lines

Sigh. Vacation took more out of me than I thought, it took me far too long to get this written. I really hoped that I could get caught up this week. Oh well…

The FoldThe Fold

by Peter Clines

Hardcover, 372 pg.
Crown, 2015
Read: June 4 – 5, 2015
If you’ve ever wanted an episode of Fringe with more contemporary pop-culture references and a more obvious sense of humor — yet with all the mind-bendy science and disturbing images, this just might be the book for you.

Reggie Magnus is in a bind — he’s some muckety-muck in DARPA and a secret project he’s been funding to develop teleportation has diverged a bit from its original design and started generating unbelievable results. At the same time . . . he knows something’s just not right out there at the development facility — he has no idea what’s wrong, but he knows something is. What’s a guy to do? Well, considering that he’s spent billions (yup, with a “b”) on this project, he needs to make sure he delivers something. Thankfully, Reggie’s got a genius friend with a few months free to send out to California, see what’s going on — hopefully fix the problem and help Reggie to justify the budget for this program.

Enter Mike (Leland Erikson, actually, but he answers to Mike — long story). He is a genius, with a photographic memory (a frighteningly detailed one), a curious streak a mile wide, and….three months off to do this since he’s a High School English teacher just done for the summer. So, he goes to California, meets some legendary scientists (and a few others no one has head of), and then excitement ensures.

While I was reading the second chapter, I scrawled the note: “The tonal shift between chaps 1 & 2 was enough to give me Whiplash (and I’m talking the kind where J K Simmons slaps you repeatedly, not the kind you get a TV lawyer to help with). Think it bodes well for the book.” And it did. After the jarring sensation between the first two chapters (think of the typical NCIS/Bones/etc. type opening wherein someone going about their routine, daily life stumbles on to a body before we join our heroes bantering around the office), things calmed down. The plot unwinds at a good pace — building up a good head of steam until everything goes cuckoo bananas. Eventually, all the pieces come together — but the explanation doesn’t end things, it only sets up a action-packed, mind-scrambling conclusion.

Like Mike, we get a nice orientation to the research facility and its team. Most come thi-i-i-i-s close to being right out of Central Casting, but Clines tweaks them just enough to keep them from being a frightening cliché. Ditto for Reggie, actually. This is not to say that Clines spends all that much time fully developing these characters — he comes close with Dr. Arthur Cross and Jamie Parker.

Jamie’s your basic attractive blond with severe emotional issues, when she’s not being a ultra-professional uber-computer scientist, that is. Dr. Cross is the 4th most popular scientist in the world — behind Neil deGrasse Tyson, Stephen Hawking and Bill Nye. He writes books for popular audiences and heads up research projects like this one (to over-do the Fringe comparisons, he’s William Bell). When he’s not being dark and mysterious, he’s the kind of scientist you want to learn from, dropping lines like: “Almost any concept or idea in the world can be expressed through comparison with a classic Warner Bros. cartoon,” and then goes on to demonstrate just that.

Actually, it may not be character development. Those two might be the characters we spend the most time with. This sounds like a criticism, but it’s not really. It’s not that type of book, all it requires are characters to move the plot along, not people you get too invested in.

Now, Mike is another story, he’s fully fleshed out. He is sort of a Robert Langdon type character — brilliant, in the right place at the right time, driven, and courageous enough to jump into danger, yada yada yada. — but with one significant difference: I liked Mike from the moment I met him, and I never, not for one sentence (over two books) liked Langdon. He’s charming, down-to-earth (in his own way), and is desperate just to be a regular guy. It’s hard not to respond to that.

It’s an engaging story, told well, filled with likeable characters doing out-of-this-world things. Solid SF work. Give this one a shot.

Disclaimer: I received this book from the nice folks over at Blogging for Books for this review. Not sure they got their money’s worth, but I came out pretty good on the deal.

—–

4 Stars

Opening Lines – Kickback

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On May 20, 2015

In Ace Atkins, Authors, Blog Series, Currently Reading, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Quotations, Robert B. Parker, Spenser

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book

On the first day of February, the coldest day of the year so far, I took it as a very good omen that a woman I’d never met brought be a sandwich. I had my pair of steel-toed Red Wings kicked up on the corner of my desk, thawing out, when she arrived. My morning coffee and two corn muffins were a distant memory.

She laid down the sandwich wrapped in wax paper and asked if my name was Spenser.

“Depends on the sandwich.”

“A grinder from Coppa in the South End,” she said. “Extra provolone and pickled cherry peppers.”

“Then my name is Spenser,” I said. “With an S like the English poet.”

“Rita said you were easy.”

“If you mean Rita Fiore, she’s not one to judge.”

from Kickback by Ace Atkins


(technically, not the opening lines, but this is the beginning of Chapter 1, so it sorta counts)

Reread Project: The Commitments by Roddy Doyle

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On April 17, 2015

In Authors, Blog Series, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Reread Project, Roddy Doyle

The CommitmentsThe Commitments

by Roddy Doyle
Series: The Barrytown Trilogy, #1

Paperback, 165 pg.
Vintage Contemporaries, 1987
Read: April 15, 2015

Will yeh please put your workin’ class hands together for your heroes. The Saviours o’ Soul, The Hardest Workin’ Band in the World, —Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes —The Commitments.

This is a tough one for me to talk about — I’m a long-time fan, I’ve read it a dozen or so times, it’s all I can do to not turn total fan-boy and just gush. eh, I might not try too hard.

My college roommates and I became fans of the music video for “Try a Little Tenderness” from the soundtrack for the movie adaptation, and we waited for what seemed like a interminable amount of time before the movie came to the art-house theater in town. I loved it from the opening sequence on and tracked down the novel the next day. It blew my mind (for reasons I’ll get into in a bit), and I read it a dozen or so times over the few years until I loaned it (and the rest of the trilogy) to someone at work. Naturally, I never saw him again (I ended up with a copy of Gaines’ A Lesson Before Dying and another book in the transaction). I finally let myself buy a replacement copy a few years ago (found a used copy with the same cover), and have now read it twice. And, if anything, my appreciation grows each time.

It’s the late 80’s and three young Dubliners (from the poorest part of Dublin) have formed a band — sort of. Not everyone in it are musicians yet, but they’re working on it. Thanks to the direction of their keyboard (defined in the loosest possible way) player, they’re going to play synth-pop and go by the name “And And! And” (and, yes, I got the exclamation point in the right place). Their first order of business (while learning how to play) is to hire a manager. Jimmy Rabbitte is the guy from their school/neighborhood who’s the area’s music/music industry expert. As evidenced by the fact that he’s the first one anybody knew of that was aware of Frankie Goes to Hollywood — and, even greater — he’s the first to realize how bad they were. Jimmie gets things going immediately by dropping the name (especially that !) and the keyboard player.

Instead, they’re going to play American soul music — and then put an Irish twist on it — local slang, geographic references, and so on. Jimmie puts an ad in the paper to recruit some musicians, hits up a coworker he heard at a company party, and so on. As a result, he collects a very strange crew of musicians — including a trumpet player decades older than the rest of them, with plenty of professional experience (the trumpet in “All You Need is Love,” for example). The rest, as they say, is history.

The story of The Commitments is told through a very unconventional prose and dialogue style. It’s like Doyle took Leonard’s 10 Rules to the furthest point possible (other than #7, which he violates in every line). You can hear these characters talk, you can feel the energy in the room — heck, this book comes closer to capturing musical performances better than anything this side of Memorex or vinyl. Couldn’t tell you what anyone looks like (well, The Commitmentettes are pretty attractive — especially Imelda), what their homes are like, the weather, or anything of that other stuff that tends to fill the pages of novels. But I can tell you what happened, to whom, and how all related reacted. Which is good enough for me.

This isn’t one of those books that gives you diminishing returns upon re-reading. It’s fresh (while dated — no idea how Doyle pulls that off), funny, and full of soul. Dublin soul, of course. Just like the rag-tag musicians that come to life in its pages.

Oh, if you can get your hands on the soundtrack albums (or find them streaming somewhere) to listen to while reading, it makes it all better (even though there’s almost no overlap between songs).

—–

5 Stars

Saturday Miscellany – 2/7/15

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On February 7, 2015

In Blog Series, Books, Harry Dresden, Jim Butcher, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Urban Fantasy

Grawlix! If I didn’t know better, I’d say that The Universe, The Matrix, Loki, Coyote, Murphy’s Law or the Greek ghost Thespis was messing with me and keeping me from getting anything written or posted here. I’m a little stunned that I got this compiled, really. Hopefully, next week will be better.

Here are some odds ‘n ends over the week about books and reading that caught my eye. You’ve probably seen some/most/all of them, but just in case:

    This Week’s New Releases I’m Excited About and/or You’ll Probably See Here Soon:

  • Funny Girl by Nick Hornby — Hornby continues to explore celebrity, this time in the 1960’s with an up and coming actress. Not really what I’d have expected from him next, but I’m not sure what I did expect.
  • The Way Into Darkness by Harry Connolly — the Third and final installment in The Great Way saga. Hearing so many good things about this one already!
  • Covenant’s End by Ari Marmell — bittersweet — a new Widdershins Adventure, but sadly, it’s the last.

Lastly, I’d like to say hi and welcome to abhinavmajumder for following the blog this week. Thanks to Theinexorablenerd for the interaction.

Opening Lines – Near Enemy

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On January 15, 2015

In Blog Series, Currently Reading, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Quotations, Science Fiction

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. Technically, I’m cheating here — I skipped the first eight lines (Chapter 1), this is from Chapter 2, but it’s my blog so I can ignore my own rules, right?

Dare you not to read the rest of the book

—–

This used to be a city of locks.
Every home, at least five, down the door, like a vault.
Chain lock.
Rim lock.
Fox lock.
Knob lock.
Deadbolt.
Funny name, that last one.
Dead. Bolt.
Neither word exactly conjures security.
But no one bothers with that many locks in New York anymore. City’s safer. Or at least emptier. No end of vacancies. And no one bothers to burgle anymore. Nothing left to burgle. Everything’s picked clean, and anyone who still lives in Manhattan and has something of real value to protect — family, dignity, vintage baseball-card collection — does it with a shotgun, not a deadbolt. So the real problem, for the burglar, isn’t getting in. It’s getting back out.
After all, if you apply enough force, deadbolts give.
Shotguns take.

from Near Enemy by Adam Sternbergh

In Medias Res: Us by David Nicholls

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On November 17, 2014

In Currently Reading, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, In Medias Res

House of Hades
Us

by David Nicholls Typically, I use an “In Media Res” post to check in on a book I’m really excited about, usually about the halfway point. But, thanks to some poor time management on my part, I’ll check in here, as I had to take this back to the library today. I’m on page 120, just a couple pages into Part 2.

In a thumbnail, this is Rowell’s Landline from the male perspective, but without the magic phone. Similarly to Landline, we examine the beginning of the relationship from the protagonist’s present POV, as well as how things progress from the time that his wife tells him she thinks their marriage might be done. In a few months, their child will be leaving home, so she considers their work done — and maybe they will be, too.

This comes out of nowhere (as far as he’s concerned), and strikes poor Douglas like a load of bricks. He latches on to the probability she’s expressed rather than the certainty. He still has a chance, he just needs to make certain changes. He has no idea what those are, but he’s going to try to make them.

At this point, I can see why 1980’s Douglas would be attracted to 1980’s Connie, and maybe why he’d fall for her. I’m not convinced present-day Connie is worth that much effort (but I’m not married to her, so it’s hard for me to say). As for their work as a couple? On behalf of the people of Earth — you’ve done a lousy job. Albie is a questionable human being and a lousy ingrate of a son.

This is well-told — with heart, with wit (frequently a bumbling wit, but that’s Douglas’ charm). As much as I loved Nicholl’s One Day, I couldn’t finish Starter for Ten, so I was a little worried about dipping my toe into this one. But, I have every intention of plowing through this one, as soon as I climb back on top of the library wait list.

When I do, I’m sure I’ll learn to like present-day Connie a bit more, and find out what happened between 1980’s Douglas and present-day Douglas to turn him into someone Connie’s not sure she wants to stick with. I fully expect it to be understandable and may even result in my not liking Douglas too much for a bit. Will he figure out what needs to change and do so? Maybe. I’m not sure Nicholls is going for a happy ending. Who knows? I might even find a redeeming quality in Albie. That will come as a surprise, but I’m open to the possibility.

Good start — I can imagine this book getting 5-stars from me. Also can imagine it getting 3. Who knows?

Opening Lines – Pickles and Ponies: A Fairy-Tale

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On October 31, 2014

In Blog Series, Currently Reading, Fantasy, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Quotations, YA/MG/Children's Books

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book.

Yeah, yeah, I know…another modern fairy-tale intro. What can I say, I’m a sucker for ’em?

Once upon a time, in a land far away, a prince was in rather a pickle. Not a literal pickle, of course— prince-sized pickles are rather hard to come by. No, the type of pickle this prince was in was a thoroughly metaphorical one. To be honest, he might have preferred the vegetable.

from Pickles and Ponies: A Fairy-Tale by Laura May

Reread Project: The Last Detective by Robert Crais

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On October 21, 2014

In Authors, Blog Series, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

The Last Detective (Elvis Cole, #9)The Last Detective

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #9

Hardcover, 320 pgs.
Doubleday, 2003
Read: October 1 – 2, 2014

The Last Detective begins a few months after the L. A. Requiem and Joe Pike is trying to get himself back in fighting shape after his devastating injuries in exactly the place you’d expect — the Alaskan wilderness (isn’t that where’d you go?). Joe’s looking more mortal than he had since the shooting in The Monkey’s Raincoat, but like the tattoos indicate, he’s moving forward. While there he encounters an Alaskan brown bear? The way Crais describes it (which seems pretty realistic), if you stop and think about it — that’s horror, that’s terror. Hannibal Lecter, Martin Vanger, Alex Kork — that’s fiction, that’s fantasy. Brown bear? That’s reality. A reality I hope never to know better than I do now. But, this isn’t Joe Pike starring in Man vs. Wild, so we’re off to L. A.

Elvis and Ben Chenier are hanging out for a few days while Ben’s mom is out of town, Elvis and Lucy are still trying to recover from the hit their relationship took in Requiem. Ben goes off to play outside while Elvis is on the phone with Lucy, and then he doesn’t come back. Elvis gets scared, finds his video game laying in the brush below Elvis’ house. It’s not too long afterwards that they get a call — the boy didn’t get lost, he didn’t run away — he was abducted.

The investigation gets into full swing fairly quickly — Elvis calls in some favors from the police to help. Here we meet investigator Carol Starkey (from Crais’ Demolition Angel) who vacillates between appreciating Elvis’ investigatory skills and being annoyed with him. Lucy’s ex comes in, pushing his investigators into the investigation, trying to push Elvis out and generally making life difficult for him. Richard clearly has an Elvis-shaped chip on his shoulder and uses this circumstance to throw dirt on his ex-wife’s new love.

It seems that Ben’s kidnapping is related in some way to what Elvis did in Vietnam, and both the reader and those involved in the investigation learn a lot about something that Elvis thought he was done talking about. What some people called his secrets, he saw differently:

I wasn’t keeping secret. Some things are better left behind, that’s all, you move past and go on. That’s what I’ve tried to do, and not just about the war.

Elvis’ life before and during the war weren’t wonderful, and he’s tried to go on. But that’s no longer an option — he has to revisit a lot of that, which Lucy doesn’t react well to.

On the one hand, I’m still liking Lucy less and less for more of the same that I complained about last time. But that’s not to say I disagree with her — when she tells Joe Pike that the way he and Elvis live isn’t normal.

I don’t like the way violence follows you; you and him. I’ve known police officers all my life, and none of them live like this. I know federal and state prosecutors who’ve spent years building cases against murderers and mob bosses, and none of them have their children stolen . . . I am normal! I want to be normal! Are you so perverted that you think this is normal? It isn’t! It is insane!

. She’s right. But . . . well, see what I said last time. I sympathize, but I still don’t like her any more.

Now, this isn’t just a manhunt for the kidnappers — there’s plenty for Elvis to investigate, a few twist and turns and — of course, secrets unearthed and a decent helping of violence. The emotional toll these events take is worse than anything else, all things considered.

Although the focus is on Elvis and the search for Ben. We do learn a little more about Pike (no problems between he and the LAPD this time). We get a different explanation for Joe’s need for order and cleanliness than I’d surmised from Requiem, but it’s probably a combination. I’m only talking about it so much because for so long it’s what little we knew about him — he liked his Jeep spotless and everything immaculate. Joe displays his typical loyalty to Elvis here — it’s typical for him, it’s out-of-place in today’s world on the whole. He even takes on a debt that sets up a future book, a detail I hadn’t really paid attention to until now, but it was a huge move on his part.

John Chen returns — and is again helped to gain a bit of the spotlight he so craves, but he’s got skills of his own (and is probably learning a good deal from Joe and Elvis). He’s still a not good guy, really, but you can’t help but like him. I had a brief moment of fan-boy excitement when everyone’s favorite Vietnam Tunnel Rat turned LAPD detective puts in a cameo. It really helped lighten the oppressive mood. It was nice to see him in these pages, it was nicer still that it happened when it did.

This is the most intense, fastest-paced Elvis Cole novel yet. It’s all forward momentum (see Pike’s tattoos yet again — Crais isn’t the only one who can overuse them as a symbol). Part of this — maybe a large part of this — has to do with the fact that it’s a kidnapping case, every minute counts. It certainly doesn’t hurt that every chapter leads off with “X Hours, Y Minutes” since the kidnapping.

This is really great stuff here. Even though I remembered why the various villains were up to their villainy, seeing it revealed to Elvis still got me riled up as it was intended to, and though I knew how both the kidnapping and related stories wrapped up, I was still glued to the pages, turning as fast as I could. Which is the sign of a master of suspense writing — that even when there’s no suspense, the reader is still reacting as if there was.

—–

5 Stars

—–

Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

Reread Project: L.A. Requiem by Robert Crais

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On October 13, 2014

In Blog Series, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

L.A. Requiem (Elvis Cole, #8)L.A. Requiem by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #8

Mass Market Paperback, 539 pages
Published October 3rd 2002 by Pocket
Read: September 24 – 25, 2014


I know that I’ve read this one at least twice previously, but you wouldn’t have been able to prove it last week when I started my re-read of it. I’d spent the last few weeks while planning this series (and probably years before it), convinced that the events of The Last Detective happened in this book — and that the back story revealed here was revealed a couple of books earlier.

Not only that, I’d forgotten this was where we met John Chen! I’d even forgot that he was on the horizon! Sure, John Chen is a despicable, slimey guy. But there’s something about him I liked — even here, before any of his redeeming qualities are found (developed?), there’s something about John that’s likeable. He’s a creep, but he’s Pike’s creep.

Still, I’d clearly forgotten just about everything meaningful about this novel — at least as far as plot goes. I remember what I learned about Pike (but, as I said, thought I learned it elsewhere). Making this a lot of fun to reread. Which is, I guess, the whole point of rereading.

Anyway, to the book itself:

One of my all-time favorite movies is Midnight Run, if you haven’t watched it, shame on you. Really. There’s no excuse. Go rectify that situation. As you’ll recall, Jonathan Mardukus torments the bounty hunter bringing him back to LA with the question, “Why are you so unpopular with the Chicago police department?” Throughout this series, astute readers have likely been asking a similar question: “Why is Joe Pike so unpopular with the Los Angeles police department?” — at least I have (which is not to say you’re an astute reader if you haven’t been asking the question I have — clearly, you’re astute. And good looking. With a great sense of humor). Except for the times when the detectives have hard to travel out of town, we’ve seen animosity to outright hatred in the LAPD’s reaction to Joe (with the exception of Det. Angela Rossi). In these pages, we finally learn why (it’s an understandable, yet, mistaken reason — naturally). But we learn a lot more about him, here, too: the foundation for his obsession with keeping his jeep clean, why he’s driven in many of the ways that he is, and more — but this isn’t just a series of flashbacks — all we learn about Joe serves the main story as well as the character.

For a little change of pace here in book 8, Joe Pike brings in the client. In this case, it’s the father of a woman Joe dated back when he was a police officer, things ended badly, but not so badly that Frank Garcia has lost any respect for Joe. So when Karen goes missing one day, and the police won’t help him yet, Frank turns to Joe for help. Joe, naturally, brings Elvis along for this investigation.

The events that turned Pike into LAPD’s Most Hated are related to the outcome of this case — and not just because it makes every cop willing to believe the worst in Joe and not look too hard for an alternative explanation when Joe becomes a suspect. His partner jailed, the police hostile to any efforts to seek another suspect, the Karen Garcia case becomes Elvis’ most personal case yet (until the next book).

The various police officers and detectives involved in this book are just horrible — bordering on cartoonishly bad at the beginning. Not necessarily bad at their jobs, just bad human beings. Thankfully, Crais isn’t that kind of writer, and you learn there’s actually a reason for these men and women to act this way. Garcia’s able to use his political clout to force the detectives assigned to the case to let Elvis observe them, read their reports and whatnot. Which is resented (and not just because of Joe), particularly by the detective who’s forced to act as his liaison, Samantha Dolan. Dolan eventually softens to a degree, and her relationship with Cole acts as a precursor/template for another coming soon in Elvis’ life.

I’m going to break my anti-spoiler policy here, and rant a bit. If you want to read it, use your mouse to select the following paragraph:
Lucy, Lucy, Lucy — I am so disappointed in you. Of course Elvis is going to choose to help Joe here. Of course, he’s going to put his life on the line for his partner (who’s saved his life more than once). Of course, Elvis is going to bend the law (at best), going to pull out all the stops to find the killer and save Joe. What did you think he was going to do? Stop being Elvis? How did you two meet? What lengths did Elvis go to in order to help out these complete strangers and the woman who lied to him and fired him? And then what did he do for those kids, after you forced him to help? Not to mention the case that got you your job in L.A.? I get it, you’re in a vulnerable place, you’ve changed your whole life thanks to Elvis and you feel like he owes you a bit. But before you moved to L. A. you knew who he was. You knew the kind of man he was and what kind of dangerous work he did. I started disliking Lucy here, and that only grows in the next book (even if I sympathize with her more there), so that when she shows up in The Forgotten Man I don’t even want to see her.

Nothing is simple about this case — not the mystery, not the motive for the killings, not the various motives for the investigators, not the lives of those touched by the crimes/criminals/investigators. It’s all complicated, messy and very human.

In the end, this is Crais’ masterpiece. Which isn’t to say that he hasn’t written some very satisfying and enjoyable books after this — many of which I like more. But nothing’s as good as this one. This brings us to a new stage in the Cole books — one that continues to this day. I might contrast the two stages a bit more in the weeks to come (maybe during/after The Forgotten Man or maybe to go along with The Promise), almost making them two different series. And yes, I miss the old Elvis — but that’s not to say there’s a problem with the new one, it’s just noting a difference. It’s haunting, it’s disturbing, and will affect any reader that has an emotional connection to the partners. Really well done. Oh, and as a bonus, the last 3 or 4 pages are just gorgeous — probably the most “writerly” writing that Crais has done yet.

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5 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

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