Real Tigers by Mick Herron
“And I thought he was one of your cleverer boys.”
“Mind like a razor,” Lamb agreed. “Disposable.”
“Have you got a gun?”
“No.”
“What if they have?”
“Your concern is touching. I’ll be all right.”
“But what if …?”
Lamb leaned through Ho’s open window. “What if they come after you? With guns?”
“…Yes.”
“You’ll be fine. Getting shot’s like falling off a log. It doesn’t take practice.”
A Necromancer Called Gam Gam by Adam Holcombe
“Inexperience does not always mean ineptitude.”
…for the first time in days, she felt the cold chill of dread and depression leave her as she returned the hug. She wept with Gam Gam, but this was different somehow. Not the screaming pain she had felt, but something warmer. Tears she didn’t mind shedding.
The Ink Black Heart by Robert Galbraith
He experienced one of those moments of simultaneous confusion and clarity that belong to the drunk and the desperate.
The idea of suggesting that Strike stop lying to the women in his life occurred only to be dismissed, on the basis that the resolutions to stop smoking, lose weight and exercise were enough personal improvement to be getting on with.
He was starting to feel like a truffle pig trying to do its job in a room full of incense, dead fish and strong cheese.
The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin
What is the point of bad dates if not to have amusing anecdotes for your friends?
The Fall of the House of Ussher is a decent primer on what not to do with children.
“Infinite Jest is a masterpiece,” Harvey had said.
“Infinite Jest is an endurance contest. You manage to get through it and you have no choice but to say you like it. Otherwise, you have to deal with the fact that you just wasted weeks of your life,” A.J. had countered. “Style, no substance, my friend.”
People tell boring lies about politics, God, and love. You know everything you need to know about a person from the answer to the question, What is your favorite book?
The words you can’t find, you borrow.
We read to know we’re not alone. We read because we are alone. We read and we are not alone.
If I Understood You, Would I Have This Look on My Face? by Alan Alda
Ignorance was my ally as long as it was backed up by curiosity. Ignorance without curiosity is not so good, but with curiosity it was the clear water through which I could see the coins at the bottom of the fountain.
Aristotle is often quoted as saying that a story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. That’s true, but I don’t think that’s the whole story. After all, a dead cat has a beginning, a middle, and an end.
Bad Influence by Alison Gaylin
…I’ve used the Internet only for work and for the purchasing of shoes—an approach I believed could lead to world peace if more people shared it.
Murder Your Employer: The McMasters Guide to Homicide by Rupert Holmes
“If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, quacks like a duck, but has an alibi, it’s not a duck.”
“No accomplices. Ever. Show me two individuals who commit a murder, and I’ll show you one individual who’ll make a deal with the District Attorney to implicate the other. In fact, I’ll show you two individuals willing to do that.”
The Worst Man by Jon Rance
It’s easier to keep doing the same thing over and over, even though I know it isn’t good for me, than to try something new. I’ve never been good at thinking outside of the box. When it comes to drinking and love, I’m firmly in the box, where I stubbornly remain unhappy and unfulfilled.
‘Sounds perfect. Nothing better than a proper old-fashioned pub.’
‘You haven’t seen it yet,’ I say, as we reach the pub and stand outside. ‘Here it is, The Crown.’
‘Looks nice enough.’
‘And it is. Literally just nice enough not to be closed for serious health violations.’
… I was at home marking some awful essays and I needed some fresh air. Can you believe that one of my pupils wrote that World War One was a minor conflict in the early part of the nineteenth century?’
‘Really? That’s terrible. I blame the teachers.’
‘Me too,’
I arrive home from work on the Friday before my birthday weekend to a surprise abduction. I suppose all abductions are essentially a surprise. You don’t tend to sit down with your abductors prior to your abduction and plan everything out. Surprise is indeed a crucial element when abducting someone, and I’m certainly surprised by mine.
Random Sh*t Flying Through the Air by Jackson Ford
What can I say—police chases and murder plots and stand- offs with black ops teams have a way of bringing coworkers together.
OK, private jets are awesome. This plane is bigger than my apartment. And it’s way more comfortable: buttery leather seats, muted silver accents, tables that I’m pretty sure are real wood. Also a full bar, with some seriously good whiskey stacked behind it. Forget being a chef. Hell, forget being a government agent. I should try find work as a German tech billionaire.
It’s hard going. And not just beauce of the terrain. I can’t stop thinking about [spoiler]. Replaying what happened over and over and over. Trying to find an angle, a way to make it come out different. But it’s like the ending of Game of Thrones. You can wish as much as you want, but it will still suck, and it will suck for all eternity.
Killing Me by Michelle Gagnon
“But first, Marcie and I are taking you out to see the real Vegas. Locals only stuff.”
“Wow, that’s tempting,” I said, even though in my experience, “locals only” usually involved some sort of harm to animals, followed by throwing up in a Dairy Queen parking lot.
Worse traveling companions than Grace must exist. I could’ve been stuck with a gassy dog, teething baby, or car full of mimes. But two hours into the drive I probably would’ve welcomed all three.
Cutthroat Cupcakes by Cate Lawley
My gut didn’t like this guy. It also wasn’t doing somersaults and pointing at him as the murderer— but an intuitive organ can only do so much, and that likely exceeded reasonable expectations of it.
That feeling you get when you’ve been on a transatlantic flight, when your seat neighbor coughed the entire flight and the flight attendant spilled a drink on you because some idiot tried to pass her in the aisle at the exact moment she was handing you your drink? As if your skin is covered in a layer of filth and germs and a stickiness that cannot be wiped away? That’s how I felt after one lingering look from Hector.
(Image by DaModernDaVinci from Pixabay)
This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.
Grab a book, any book.
= Grade: A. I loved it. Blew me away. Knocked my socks off. The stuff that dreams are made of. Get thee to a bookstore/library and put this on the top of your TBR pile!
= Grade: B. Highly recommended. Very entertaining (where applicable), well-written, and whatnot. More than worth the time to read.
= Grade: C. I liked it. It’s good. It gets the job done—entertains/educates/keeps your interest/whatever the job is. The book as a whole might not be dazzling, but it’s worth your time. I’d continue the series/reading books by the author. Recommended. I want to stress this word here: Recommended. I suggest you read this book.
= Grade: D. Don’t bother. It’s not bad per se, it’s just not good.
= Grade: F. This is not a book to be lightly tossed aside. It should be thrown with great force.
