Tag: Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller Page 13 of 54

Good Dog, Bad Cop by David Rosenfelt: Corey Douglas Starts to Come Into His Own as a PI

Good Dog, Bad CopGood Dog, Bad Cop

by David Rosenfelt

DETAILS:
Series: The K Team, #4
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: March 14, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 288 pg.
Read Date: February 28-March 2, 2023
9781250828965

What’s Good Dog, Bad Cop About?

Pete Stanton, when he’s not building up a tab for Andy Carpenter at their favorite sports bar, is in charge of the Homicide Division of the Paterson PD. He doesn’t have the budget for more police detectives, but he had a healthy budget for consultants (figure that one out if you can). So he’s hired the K-Team to look into some cold cases for him.

The first one they pick is a doozy. A few years ago, a retired detective and mentor to Corey Douglas was found shot on his boat, a woman’s body was also found there. Some suspicions about a murder-suicide were floated, but nothing stuck. Corey wants to look into it, and Pete approves it with one caveat—they have to investigate the murder of that woman’s husband. He, too, was a Paterson police officer who was murdered. Other than his wife, there’s no obvious connection between the cases, and they weren’t investigated that way.

Corey and Laurie knew going in that Pete would assign them both if they requested one—and honestly, they wanted it that way. All three were aware of the game they were playing, and they all did their part. Now, hopefully, the K-Team and help the PPD close these cases and get some justice for the victims.

Simon

This is really Corey’s book—Laurie’s in it a decent amount, but she doesn’t seem to play as vital a role as usual. Marcus isn’t around much—but is when it counts. Where it comes up short is, as is often the case, Simon’s involvement.

We need to see more of him—Corey even jokes about it at one point, saying Simon’s going to be jealous about something he’s up to without him. That’s all well and good–but it’s not enough.

This is a series about detectives who name their team after a dog. Corey’s a former dog handler. The dog needs to be around more. Do we get some good Simon action? Yes. Are the lines about him and the action involving him good? Absolutely (equating him to Marcus is a great idea). But c’mon, Rosenfelt—give us more Simon.

Poor Sam

Okay, it’s been evident for quite some time in the Andy Carpenter books that while Sam is a good accountant, he enjoys his side gig as a computer researcher for Andy (who isn’t impeded by things like ethics or laws), and he’s more than happy to help out with the K-Team.

But these guys are starting to rely on him too much—sure, they do the legwork. They put a lot of the clues together—but Sam got most of those clues for them. And the number of times that Corey called with new tasks for him was borderline outrageous. They’re working this guy to the bone.

It occurs to me that I said something very similar about the computer tech in the DC Maggie Jamieson series. Is there maybe a union for overworked tech geniuses in Mysteries/Procedurals? Maybe Tilly Bradshaw can organize something.

Corey as a PI

Corey is really coming into his own as a PI (at least as far as fictional PIs go). In the first book or two, he tried to do things the right way—he was very aware that he was no longer a cop and had to act in a certain manner because of it. But he still acted like a police officer, with those kinds of instincts.

Laurie had spent enough time as a PI, was more comfortable in the role, and accepted a greater degree of looseness when it came to protocols. I doubt Marcus ever cared about them in the first place. But Corey was pretty uptight and had to be cajoled into doing certain things.

He seems over that now—he’s willing to color outside the lines, ignore certain rules/laws, and so on. It’s about getting the results and taking care of details and technicalities later.*

* I want to stress that I’m okay with this because we’re talking fictional detectives. The casual attitude toward privacy, phone records, financial transactions, and breaking and entering in a real person would be intolerable—I don’t care what their profession is.

It’s great to see him grow and develop. He’s not the same character that he was when we met him in the Andy Carpenter books–or when this series started. I’m sure that growth with slow and/or stop soon—but for now, I’m liking the journey.

The M Word

As much as he’s growing in his new profession, Corey’s got a long way to go on the personal front. Sure, he’s made great strides since meeting and starting to date Dani. He’s in a long-term committed relationship and isn’t thinking of running for the hills or making some lame excuse to break up.

But he can’t even bring himself to say—or think (including in his narration)—the word “marriage.” He will call it “M” throughout the book—and he’s thinking about it pretty frequently in this book. Sure, it’s immature—he realizes it. But that’s not enough. This is also one of those things that the reader has to suspend disbelief and just roll with. If you do, it’s a fun running joke (it’s easy to do, because if anyone can make a somewhat emotionally stunted man entertaining, it’s the creator of Andy Carpenter).

So, what did I think about Good Dog, Bad Cop?

I know this series (like the Carpenter books) aren’t technically cozies—Marcus by himself keeps them from being considered that way. But I don’t know if there is a pair of series (or one) that I feel so comfortable in. Within a paragraph or two of the protagonist showing up, I’m enjoying the book and feel at home.

Sure, there are better entries and lesser entries—characters moves I like more than others, and so on. But I know as soon as I start one of these books that I’m going to have a good time. That’s what happened here.

I’m enjoying Corey’s transformation into a more typical PI—there are a couple of moments where he felt like the 1990s-era Spenser (just with a dog that wouldn’t run from gunfire). I’m not going to complain about that—ever. I enjoy the dynamics between the team, between the team and the police/other law enforcement entities, between the team and Andy, and so on. I simply enjoyed myself here.

The mysteries on top of that were good, too. I admit that I got suckered into a red herring or two, and things that I was sure of along the way were wrong (I was on the right path, and was only one connection away from being in step with Corey).*

* I’m sure I probably sound defensive there, but that’s only because I am.

I don’t know what else to say—this is a good installment in a reliable series. Fans of Carpenter, the K-Team, or lighter mysteries will gobble this one up. Satisfaction assured.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

Opening Lines: Broken by Don Winslow

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 like to throw it up here.

I’m going to do something a little different with this one–Broken by Don Winslow is a collection of novellas. Each one has a different voice, a different feel, a different kind of crime. Today, to give a little taste of the diversity, I want to share the opening of two of the novellas, each one grabbed me in their own way.

from Broken:

You ain’t gotta tell Eva the world is a broken place.

A 911 dispatcher on a New Orleans night shift, Eva McNabb hears humanity’s brokenness for eight hours straight, five nights a week, more when she’s pulling doubles. She hears the car accidents, the robberies, the shootings, the murders, the maimings, the deaths. She hears the fear, the panic, the anger, the rage, the chaos, and she sends men racing toward it.

Well, mostly men—there are more and more women on the force—but Eva thinks of all of them as her “guys,” her “boys.” She sends them into all that brokenness and then prays they come back in one piece.

Mostly they do, sometimes they don’t, and then she’s sending more of her guys, her boys, into the broken places.

Literally, sometimes, because her husband was a cop and now her two grown sons are cops.

So she knows that life.

She knows that world.

Eva knows that you can come out of it, but you always come out broken.


from The San Diego Zoo:

No one knows how the chimp got the revolver.

Only that it’s a problem.

Chris Shea didn’t think it was his problem, though, when the call first came over the radio that a chimpanzee had escaped from the world-famous San Diego Zoo.

“Call Animal Control,” he responded, not considering runaway monkeys to be a police matter.

Then the dispatcher added, “Uhh, the chimp appears to be armed.”

“Armed?” Chris asked. “With what, like a stick?”

He’d seen something on Animal Planet about chimps using sticks as tools or weapons, which apparently was significant for some reason Chris missed because he got up to make a sandwich.

Or maybe it was baboons.

Or maybe it was the National Geographic Channel.

“Witnesses are reporting that the chimp is carrying a pistol,” the dispatcher said.

Well, Chris hadn’t seen that on Animal Planet.

Opening Lines Logo

A Man Named Doll by Jonathan Ames: A Fast, Twisted Ride Through the Streets of LA

A Man Named DollA Man Named Doll

by Jonathan Ames (Narrator)

DETAILS:
Series: The Doll, #1
Publisher: Mulholland Books
Publication Date: April 20, 2021
Format: Hardcover
Length: 208 pg.
Read Date: February 10-13, 2023
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What’s A Man Named Doll About?

Happy Doll is a cop-turned-P.I. in Los Angeles, he now primarily works in doing security in a massage parlor* to make ends meet, but he used to do more investigative work.

* The employees may happen to negotiate other services.

When we first meet him, he’s talking with his mentor in the LAPD, a man who took a bullet for him and who now comes to him for a big favor. He needs a kidney transplant. Hap says he’ll think about it. That’s not good enough for Lou who ends up doing some very short-sighted things to get him that kidney. Happy doesn’t know that at the time, or he’d have said yes sooner.

An altercation with a high client at the parlor leaves Happy injured and under scrutiny by a couple of detectives from the LAPD. He’s also loopy on painkillers (which he counters with ADHD meds to really impair his judgment).

This leaves him in a bad spot when he has to investigate what Lou had gotten himself into and with whom. But he keeps plugging along obstinately (also, fueled by undeserved confidence).

Irving Ash

I picked this up because Chris McDonald said that this is the book that inspired him to write his novel Little Ghost. I tried, usually successfully, to not compare the two as I read.

I can see the shadow of A Man Named Doll on Little Ghost—there’s a similar vibe to the protagonists being up against forces they’re not ready for, but not backing down or allowing themselves to think of it. There’s a similar feeling of events quickly spiraling out of control for everyone involved, and the protagonist being in a very different place when the book is over.

I’m not suggesting that McDonald borrowed much from this book, but the novels share some DNA (and the protagonists likely do, too). The two novels can—and should—be entertaining on their own, and don’t need to be considered in relation to each other in any way. I just found it interesting to see how an author could draw inspiration from a novel and run with it.

So, what did I think about A Man Named Doll?

There were multiple twists that I didn’t see coming. I had to stop and go back to re-read a few paragraphs to make sure I just read what I thought I did, because…what author does that? Apparently, Jonathan Ames does.

I do think that this book moves a bit too quickly. I’d have liked to see Doll have to work a little harder to connect the dots between everything. I’d have liked to see the LAPD detectives play a larger roll in things (although I can’t imagine how they could’ve without ruining things for Doll’s investigation). It’s not a fatal flaw, but I think the book would’ve been better with just a little more of everything.

Ultimately, this reminded me of Eoin Colfer’s Daniel McEvoy books—just leaner and not quite as funny*. Although the latter could be a result of the former. I did laugh though at some of Doll’s narration—so not quite as funny does not imply not witty or funny at all. Both series share the same kind of worldview, the same kind of violence, and the same kind of twisted logic.

* It occurs to me that Doll does tell us that he’s half-Irish. But that part of his family hasn’t been in Ireland for quite some time, unlike McEvoy. But maybe there’s something to that heritage and the way he reacts to things. I only thought of that connection, as I was preparing to hit “Publish,” so I’m not going to spend time on it. It’s entirely possible that it won’t hold water. But it might.

I thought the emotional and psychological elements were handled perfectly—the way that Doll (and his friends) react to the events that befall them seems perfectly handled. And I really liked the Epilogue and the repercussions of the events of the novel for the characters. It comes across as a little more realistic than some PI novels would have it.

This didn’t completely wow me as I hoped—but it was a satisfying and surprising read. I want to see what else Ames is capable of and will be returning for the sequel as soon as I can.

Somehow I made it through this entire post without mentioning George, Doll’s half-Chihuahua, half-terrier dog. Shame on me. Briefly, he’s just adorable and goes through too much because of his doped-up human.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

Bad Memory by Jim Cliff: A Very Cold (and Closed) Case Gets a Second Look

Bad MemoryBad Memory

by Jim Cliff

DETAILS:
Series: Jake Abraham, #2
Publisher: Antbear Books
Publication Date: May 2, 2017
Format: eBook
Length: 104 pg.
Read Date: February 1, 2023

“I need you to find out what happened to her. I need to know who killed her.”

“The paper says suicide,” I helpfully pointed out. Case closed. That was easy.

“They’re wrong.”

“You seem pretty sure about that.”

“I was there when she died.”

What’s Bad Memory About?

Jake Abraham’s a P.I. who probably should’ve gone into another line of work, all things considered. But he didn’t, and it turns out that he has a knack for this kind of thing (see The Shoulders of Giants).

Jake’s approached by a client* who wants to him to look into a twenty-three old suicide. She was nearby, she says, when the woman died, and what she remembers hearing makes her certain it wasn’t a suicide. She was pressured into staying silent back then, but the reasons for that have disappeared and now she wants to unburden her conscience.

* I’m pretty sure she was a character in the earlier novel, but after 6+ years, I don’t remember—and I’m too lazy to check

Jake starts looking into this—talking to his detective friend, coworkers of the deceased, and the man who pressured his client into staying quiet. What he discovers doesn’t add up to a tidy suicide like the police had determined—but it doesn’t rule it out either.

Well, except for the people who aren’t doing an incredibly subtle tailing job on him all of the sudden. He’s not doing anything else that should draw anyone’s attention.

Cliff’s Voice

It wasn’t the first time I’d had a gun pointed at me, but it doesn’t get any more fun.

Like with The Shoulders of Giants, Cliff’s voice—the snappy PI patter in both the first-person narration and Jake’s dialogue—wins me over. It’s like Stout enjoying himself, early Crais, or Parker at his lightest. It just sings.

I really don’t need a good story to make me enjoy reading something told with this (or a similar) voice. Thankfully, Cliff delivers a good story, too—making it all the more enjoyable.

So, what did I think about Bad Memory?

There aren’t many perks to being a licensed private investigator. We can’t arrest people, we can’t tap people’s phones, we can’t even go through people’s mail. We’re basically private citizens with tenacious personalities.

This novella is precisely what I needed—I’d just finished two long-ish reads that were pretty heavy and taken a lot out of me emotionally. This was quick, satisfying, and filled with some snappy writing. It was a nice change of pace and tone, giving me the chance to catch my breath before diving into another full novel.

Even if it didn’t serve that purpose for me, I’d have been glad to read this—it scratches that P.I. itch in just the right way.

There was a moment when I thought that the book was trying too hard to convince me that Suspect X was guilty, and so I started to wonder who else it could’ve been. But then I remembered that this was a novella and Cliff didn’t have space to be that clever—so I shifted to trying to figure out why X was guilty. If he’d had another 100+ pages in the book and X was still guilty, I’d likely have complained about it. But given the space restraints, I have no problem with X.

Short, sweet, and to the point. This novella got the job done and makes me wish that Cliff wrote faster.


3 Stars

Harvested by Troy Lambert: A Man Bites Dog P.I. Novel

This is part of my Literary Locals series. Be sure to come back this afternoon for a Q&A with the author about this book—and in a couple of weeks to see his thoughts on writing in Idaho.


HarvestedHarvested

by Troy Lambert

DETAILS:
Series: Max Boucher Mysteries, #1
Publisher: Unbound Media
Publication Date: March 15, 2019
Format: Paperback
Length: 247 pg.
Read Date: January 2-3, 2023
Support Independent Bookstores - Visit IndieBound.org

What’s Harvested About?

Max Boucher is a P.I. in Seattle. Like a good (fictional) P.I., he spends a lot of time drinking. He spends most of the rest of his time working just to make ends meet. He really wants to devote his time to looking for whoever murdered his daughter, killed his dog, and either kidnapped or murdered his wife. He—and his former colleagues in the Seattle PD—have followed every lead they have, but he’d spend all of his life going back over the evidence time and time again if he could.

Now, he’s taken on a case—he takes on every case that comes his way—that takes him back to his old neighborhood. The dog park that he and his family used to go to, in fact. There’s a rash of dognappings in the area, and owners have come together to hire him to find their canine friends. The police can/will only do so much, but Max can devote more time to it.

It doesn’t take long for things to get hairy—there’s a connection to a Korean mob boss. Some of the dogs start reappearing—with strange injuries. And it turns out that this has been happening all over Seattle for some time. Max isn’t sure what he’s gotten himself into, but it’s about a lot more than missing poodles.

Supporting Characters

Obviously, you’ve got to have a compelling P.I. in a book like this—and a good hook for the story. That’s what the reader comes for, and the writer had better deliver. A plausible villain, is important, too—but the others can overcome an iffy one. But what will really make a P.I. novel work is the supporting characters—the cop buddies/frenemies/rival (depending on the series), the client, the witnesses, and so on.

Lambert nails this throughout the book. I like Boucher and want to see more of him, but I enjoyed some of the side characters more than him. There’s a friendly and helpful veterinarian who could probably carry a cozy mystery series on her own—and I would buy six of those tomorrow if they existed.

There’s a guy who details Max’s car (he’s got an older car that’s his pride and joy)—which is something definitely called upon when your case involves carrying injured dogs (and injured detectives) around. If Eddie shows up for a scene or two in every book in the series, you can color me pleased. I’m not even sure why—I also don’t care much, I just liked him.

I’m not going to say I enjoyed the Korean mob boss* in the same way I did those two. But the scenes with him are some of the most intense in the novel.

* Ahem. Suspected boss, of a mob that may not even exist.

I could go on for a few more—I don’t remember exactly my point when I started this section, other than to rave about Dr. Gamble and Eddie. But I guess that I just want to stress that Lambert gives us more than a solid P.I. He knows how to give the reader characters to invest in and care about—even if only for a page or two.

Beware of (Hurt) Dogs

* (yeah, that’s a lame section title—but it’s better than “It’s a Dog Eat Dog Book” with the implied cannibalism)

I know I have readers who will be antsy about this book—we’re talking about kidnapped and injured dogs here (there’s a reason I have a recurring post about books about dogs who live). And for those who cannot take violence toward animals, this is a book to avoid.

I will say, however, almost all of the violence happens “off-screen”—you see very little of it on the page. And what you see on the page isn’t that bad (up until the climactic bit at the end, but the violence there is spread amongst characters with two and four legs (and the two-legged ones get the worst of it).

The point of this book is Boucher investigating the kidnappings, stopping them by getting to the bottom of things and rescuing as many dogs as he can. So if you’re on the fence, you can hold on to that.

So, what did I think about Harvested?

This was a good read. Lambert delivered in every way I wanted a book like this to—solid plot, unique case, great character work, and a pace that keeps you turning the pages long past the time you should put the book down for sleep or chores. I’d recommend this just for the (relative) novelty of a Seattle P.I.—mid-sized US cities need to be the setting of more P.I. novels. The book delivers on everything it promises and gives you an open (and welcome) invitation to come back for another. I know I’m accepting that invitation.

Oh—minor spoiler—by the end, one of the kidnapped dogs can’t be matched with an owner and ends up staying with Max. So you know I have to come back, just for more of him.

I’d have come back anyway—I want to see how Max moves on from this point in general. I’m quite curious about the clues he discovered regarding his wife’s case, too. I’m assuming (and really don’t want to know the truth until I’m into the next book) that book 2 will advance the investigation into his wife’s kidnapping while Max and his new partner dive into another stand-alone case—and we’ll continue that way for a while. That sounds like a great time to me. Grab this one—the second book is out now, you might as well grab it, too. You’ll have fun.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
Literary Locals logo

The Night Watch by Neil Lancaster: Lancaster Just Keeps Getting Better and Better

The Night WatchThe Night Watch

by Neil Lancaster

DETAILS:
Series: DS Max Craigie Scottish Crime Thrillers, #3
Publisher: HQ Digital
Publication Date: September 8, 2022
Format: eBook
Length: 461 pg.
Read Date: January 9-10

Being alive is dull, being dead is tedious. The transition is what counts. Watching him die made me feel more alive than I could ever describe to anyone.

What’s The Night Watch About?

After a high-profile trial, a drug dealer walks free. He and his lawyer go separate ways to celebrate and are both soon dead. Theoretically, the lawyer’s death wasn’t suspicious, but the dealer was clearly murdered. The coincidence is too much for Max and his team to believe—and they soon find the evidence to back that up. The two of them killed near the same time? That smells like a vigilante.

These weren’t the vigilante’s first two victims either. A tip from an oddly cooperative reporter puts them on the right track—the victims appear to all be connected with the same investigative team. A vigilante cop is the last thing that Craigie and the rest want to imagine—but now they have to stop the killer before they strike again.

The Killer’s POV

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned a time or twelve that I rarely find chapters from the Killer’s POV in a Detective/Procedural novel to be that effective. I figure I’m in the minority on this point—if only because authors keep using them. And after the first one in this book, I made the note, “Did we need this? Did it add anything?” and it took a while before I saw Lancaster’s point with them in this one.

But note “it took a while,” by the end—I saw (at least most of) what Lancaster was doing with these moments from the Killer’s POV. Not only did I understand the point, but I appreciated what he did with them.

So, what did I think about The Night Watch?

I’m tempted to just copy and paste what I said about the last Max Craigie book, The Blood Tide—it all fits, once I swap out the titles. The Blood Tide was a noticeable growth over everything Lancaster had written before, and The Night Watch is even better.

Some procedurals are about figuring out who did what, and some are about figuring out how to prove they did it—or apprehending them before they do something else. This is about all of those. But—like the others in this series—it’s also about the toll paid by those involved in stopping the killing.

There’s some good character development with all the characters—not just our protagonist. Although most of it is happening between novels, and we just get to see the effects—I really like that style, it’s so much easier to buy than growth in the middle of one case that takes place over a limited time.

The Night Watch had some very effective twists, some great reveals, and some genuine surprises. Yeah, I identified the killer right away—but Lancaster fooled me and I abandoned the idea—and I just love that. As always, Lancaster knows how to keep the reader turning pages because you just have to know what happens next. Basically, this is exactly what I’m looking for in a police procedural.

Wholly satisfying and it just made me more eager for the next DS Craigie book.


4 Stars

REPOSTING JUST CUZ: The King of the Crows by Russell Day: Prescient. Gripping. Haunting. Unpredictable. What stories should be.

Things have gotten away from me today, so I don’t have anything new to share. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this book this week (I think about this book frequently, to be honest, but several times a day this week), so I figured I’d try to get others thinking about it, too. If you haven’t read this yet, you should strongly consider doing so, as I argue below. Incidentally, re-reading this now serves as a really good argument for me to adopt the current format of my posts using section headers and whatnot (I’d been rethinking them last week, but after this post? They’re sticking around)

King of the Crows

King of the Crows

by Russell Day

Kindle Edition, 456 pg.
Fahrenheit Press, 2020

Read: April 28-May 9, 2020

… for me at least, the first week of the Lockdown was the worst.

Knowing it had happened to me. I hadn’t escaped, I wasn’t one of the lucky ones. Lucky to be safe or lucky to be dead. Take your pick. I was neither.

That right there gives you a pretty good idea what kind of light and fluffy read this is going to be.

There are two timelines in this story—the primary focuses on a post-pandemic London, while the other shows what happened to a couple of the characters mid-pandemic (with plenty of material describing what the pandemic was like for others). In the primary timeline, Europe is a disaster—a “wasteland”—and eight years after the Outbreak, it’s beginning to put itself back together. But it’s going to take a long, long time to recover from this. Don’t let the fact that “eight years after” this fictional outbreak is 2028 bother you at all.*

* Good luck with that. I’ll get back to this in a bit.

I’m not going to try to list all the various ways that Day uses to tell this story: I’m certainly going to forget several. So here’s a partial list: here’s a third-person 2028 narrator describing a police investigation, a first-person perspective on the same investigation; a first-person account of that same detective’s life during the Outbreak; selections from a screenplay made about a group of Londoners during the Outbreak; selections from the Outbreak-memoir of one of those Londoners; and third-person narration of the same (N.B.: these three will vary in telling ways); redacted 2028 prison correspondence about the Outbreak; excerpts from scholarly works on aspects of the Outbreak (including a very illuminating work on the slang of the time); graffiti from 2021; internet message boards. Day weaves these together to tell his story, build the world, and help you to understand it. Frequently, I read something from the 2028 timeline, and understood it—only to find a new depth to it several pages later after getting another piece of the puzzle from 2020/2021. It’s hard to juggle that many narrative forms/voices/perspectives/calendars as a reader or a writer—Day pulled it off better than I did (any problems I had following things I attribute to myself, and it was pretty easy to clear out my misunderstanding with a minimum of backtracking*). It definitely helps paint the picture of the scope and variety of effects the sickness had on the world more efficiently than a consistent first- or third-person narrative would be able to.

* This would be easier in hardcopy than on an e-reader in my opinion. But that’s just a guess.

There are times (several of them) when I felt that the characters were getting lost amongst the plot and worldbuilding and sickness. But when I stopped and thought about it—and eventually got to the point where I didn’t have to—I realized I had a pretty solid idea about who these people were and was more invested in them than I expected. I thought there was so much going on that the people were getting hidden, but really, Day’s work was subtle—working in the characters into my subconscious like you give a dog its medicine. Normally, this isn’t something I require (or would like)—and it’s not Day’s usual M. O. (quite the opposite), but I think this approach really fit the novel and the story/world.

“They weren’t zombies,” he says, softly. “Don’t call them zombies.”

No one who was involved in the Outbreak for real uses the zee word.

So exactly what was the sickness?

I remember reading a couple of years ago about these ants that would succumb to a fungus which would short-circuit their brain and make them do certain things before killing them—or something like that, vague memories here. Then there were stories about parasites controlling the host’s actions—both of these stories had their 15 seconds of fame on social media around the same time (I may be messing the details up a little bit, but I’m not writing history here).

In Day’s world, one of these kinds of parasites will reside—asymptomatically, I should stress—in cats, who would pass it on to humans. Skipping the details, the humans would get very sick and then, survivors would maybe succumb to a psychosis that would make them violent. This sickness, HV-Tg (Human Variant-Toxo gondii), in a little more than a year would kill more than 20 million in Europe (at least 33% of France’s population) Et voilà!—an easy to believe pandemic that results in Zombie-like people wandering around.

Now, if one of those who’d “switched” and become violent infected you during an assault, well, you were likely to succumb. There were enough of these (“psychos” or “Gonzos”), and the sickness was so widespread, that the police and military couldn’t keep up, that civilians were forced to take action and defend themselves, their family and neighbors. People quickly forming into gang-like associations for mutual protection. It was a literal kill-or-be-infected (and likely killed) situation.

One such association became known as The Crows or The Kings of the Crows. They developed a legendary status mid-and post-Outbreak—and are the subjects of the memoir and film mentioned above. One of their number who happened to survive (and gain notoriety enough to get a publishing deal for a memoir) is the subject of the 2028 investigation. They survived the worst of the worst in one of the hardest-hit cities. They did so via means and methods that many (including their own) would find deplorable, but under circumstances that not only permitted, but required, those actions.

We also see what happens to an American in Paris for work when the Outbreak reaches the point that International travel is canceled (particularly to the U.S.). Her allies will never be considered the Kings of anything, and the contrast between how she survives to what the Crows do is pretty striking.

In 2028…eh…you know what? You should read that for yourself. I’m going to say something I’ll regret.

The biggest killer in those days wasn’t the disease or the psychos, it was stupidity.

However, it has been pointed out by many historians, logic was one of the first casualties of the Outbreak.

Some of the best moments of this book have nothing to do with advancing the plot, they’re little bits showing what the world of the Gondii-pandemic looks like. The man telling the story about taking his girlfriend to the ER because of a burn—how they were treated, and how she became infected. The soldiers coming back from a Middle East deployment being completely unprepared for what had happened to their home country. The mother and son who traveled with the Crows for awhile.

Ultimately, it’s not the story you think you’re getting…or is it? The marketing tag line is, “Ocean’s Eleven meets 28 Days Later.” It is, all things considered, a good, catchy line. I’m not sure it’s all that accurate a description of the novel (but it’s not inaccurate). What it is, really slides up on you—and when you see it it feels like it was obvious all along (even if you wouldn’t have said that 20 pages earlier). There’s a straightforward crime story at the heart of this novel—it’s just surrounded by so many layers, that you can miss it—there’s the sickness, there’s the horrible social and political context (both mid- and post-Outbreak), there’s what the characters are going through otherwise—and the whole thing is drenched in social commentary about 2020 society, e.g., sexism, economics, medical care.

And that’s not even touching the context we’re reading it in now. I truly wonder what I’d think of this book if I’d read it last Fall. I’d still like it, I’d still be impressed by it—but I don’t know if it would resonate with me the same way. There’s almost nothing about Gondii that’s comparable to COVID-19. But the way that people and governments respond—well, that’s pretty different, too. but if you can’t see what’s going on around us reflected in this novel? You’re not paying attention. That Day appears so prescient says something about his skill and observation (and a lot about Western culture, too).

I can see why people cling to the idea that the Gonzos were trying to tell us something. Something’s out there trying to get a message through: there’s a plan. Compared to the idea that it was all just chance, it’s a comfort of a type. Chance doesn’t care and can’t be appeased and can’t be reasoned with. Chance means it could all happen again.


5 Stars

PUB DAY REPOST: Killer Story by Matt Witten: A Desperate Reporter Works to Solve a Sensational Murder

Be sure to check out this Q&A with Matt Witten—it’s a great one!


Killer StoryKiller Story

by Matt Witten

DETAILS:
Publisher: Oceanview Publishing
Publication Date: January 17, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 320 pg.
Read Date: December 26-27, 2022
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What’s Killer Story About?

While studying journalism in school, Petra acted as a counselor for a high school journalism camp. In that role, she met and befriended a young girl named Livvy Anderson. Over the years since then, the two forged a strong friendship—almost like sisters. At some point though, the relationship faltered—in college, Livvy started posting videos online spouting (in Petra’s view) extreme right-wing politics, hateful speech, and the like. For example, she defended a star football player accused of raping a woman on campus by trashing her reputation and exposing personal details. Rather than pushing back or even arguing with her friend, Petra chilled communication, assuming it was a phase, and focused on her own work.

And it might have been a phase if Livvy hadn’t been killed. The murder was fairly sensational—it happened while Livvy was recording a video (but she paused the recording so no one saw it or the murderer). The accused killer was acquitted—and most of the country (including Petra) assumed it was a travesty of justice and that he got away with it. The Court of Public Opinion definitely found him guilty.

Years later, Petra has found herself (like most young print journalists) bouncing around from newspaper to newspaper, trying to stay employed. She’s now at a major Boston newspaper and thinks that life is stable—the subjects of her stories might not be that glamorous, but she’s working, and the big story is around the corner.

Until she’s laid off. She panics at this point—her boyfriend (who moved cross-country with her for this job, changing the course of his career) isn’t going to put up with the lack of stability much longer, and it’s going to only get harder getting a job at the rate she’s going. So she throws out a mad pitch to her editor—what if she could definitively prove who killed Olivia Anderson? She tells him this story isn’t just the kind of thing for the paper—it’d make a great podcast.

Visions of the kind of revenue that Serial and similar podcasts could bring to the paper, not to mention the publicity of this kind of story, he gives her two weeks to firm up the story, start producing the podcast, and they’ll see what happens.

Petra heads off to find the evidence she pretended to have during that meeting—and hopefully much more.

The Journalism of this Novel

I’ve talked before about how I’m a sucker for a novel about a driven journalist—typically a print journalist, too. I’m always ready, willing, and able to embrace and fall into the romance of the crusading reporter. Or just one who does the job well, without a crusade.

But those kinds of stories are getting harder to tell and to believe in our current media landscape. Not just because print journalism is dying (for worse or for worser). It’s definitely not the track that Witten takes here. Petra is desperate and acts desperately—she lies to her editor at every turn, overstating her case and the evidence she has at each step of the way. Almost every fictional reporter* cuts a corner here and there and bends a rule and the truth in pursuit of the story and/or the truth. Even thosPetra amputates corners and forces the truth about her actions into positions only the most experienced yogi can handle—at least when it comes to what she tells her editor, coworkers, the police, her boyfriend, and so on.

* Lawyers, please note that I’m not saying anything about the methods of actual reporters or the companies they work for. Please don’t sue me.

When it comes to her actual reporting, however—in print, podcast, and elsewhere—Petra is much more honest. Bowing to editorial pressure she may say something earlier than she should* and while she never lies, she sure edges close to it. Her scripts feature incredibly well-chosen words—true, but open to interpretation.

* There are a few hundred words I could write about other journalistic ethical moves here, but I’d be getting sidetracked.

The journalism—both in print and in the podcast—we see here is very likely what fills our screens and earbuds. It’s sensationalistic, click-driven, and not necessarily all that honest. It’s depressing to think about, and it’s not great to read about if you think about it in those terms—but it makes for a thrilling (and realistic) read. Still, I think I need to go watch Deadline – U.S.A. or something to restore my faith in humanity.

The Alt-Right Depiction

Thanks to Livvy’s online persona, even now, she has a good number of fans. Many of those fans are not happy about Petra’s podcast—and make that displeasure well known online. At least one goes further than that. Between them and Livvy’s videos (and other online activities), Witten has to walk a careful line—he needs to depict them in an honest and believable way without turning them into a convenient punching bag for a reader or character to spend a lot of time venting about their politics (perhaps even himself). Or, to go in the other direction, too.

I really appreciated the restraint he showed in this regard, it’d be easy to slip here, but on the whole, he simply reports on the views espoused—sure, it’s clear that Petra and her colleagues (and many of the witnesses that talk about it) disagree with Livvy and her fans/defenders, but with only one exception, we don’t get details their differences with the alt-right views.

That exception comes from Petra having to do a deep dive into their activities and to try to interact—so it comes about organically. Even then, Witten doesn’t let Petra go too far.

I mention this to say that readers shouldn’t let the politics involved in the book dissuade them—it’s there, but it’s just part of the atmosphere. And it’s fairly evenly handled, and I can’t imagine many readers having a problem with it.

So, what did I think about Killer Story?

Early on in the novel, I made assumptions (as you do) about the kind of story that Witten was telling and what kind of things the reader should expect from the plot and characters. I was wrong on just about every point. It was a very different kind of story, the characters ended up going in directions I wouldn’t have guessed (Petra’s editor, boyfriend, and best friend were probably the exceptions to this), and every theory I had about the killing was wrong.* And the result is a richer, deeper, and more satisfying novel than what I thought I was going to get (and I anticipated this being a good one!).

* Well, almost. I did have the motive and killer right for a chapter or two, but Witten and Petra got me off of that path.

Witten’s story in last year’s Jacked was one of the higher points in a collection full of high points, and this novel solidified my appreciation for his writing. Before I got to the point where I realized that the novel wasn’t telling the story that I thought it was and shifted my expectations, I spent a good deal of time not liking the book—but I couldn’t stop reading it or thinking and talking about it when I wasn’t reading it. It was just too well done. It got under my skin. Actually, it’s still there—I can’t stop thinking about Petra and her choices. I even emailed Witten to ask a couple of questions I had about some points—points that I think the reader could have divergent opinions on, but I wanted his authorial take on it. I’ve never done this before. But I had to know—and even having his take on them, I’m chewing on it.

I’m going to be haunted by Killer Story for a bit—in the best way. If you’re looking for a mystery you can sink your teeth into and chew on, look no further.


4 Stars

Disclaimer: I received a copy of the eARC of this novel from the author in exchange for this post and my honest opinion. This did not impact my view and the above is my honest opinion.

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

Blackwater Falls by Ausma Zehanat Khan: The Very Model of a Modern American Procedural

Blackwater FallsBlackwater Falls

by Ausma Zehanat Khan

DETAILS:
Series: Blackwater Falls, #1
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: November 7, 2022
Format: Hardcover
Length: 371 pg.
Read Date: January 10-12, 2023
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She’d thought to herself many times that the town was too shiny, too perfect, a vision of Americana, with fern-green pastures unfurling north of the reservoir, and pickup trucks and ranches that spoke of a vanished dream: the hardworking people of the heartland.

But there were hate crimes and harassment in this heartland, communities who lived at the mercy of their employers, and vigilantes and cops who were there to make them obey. In Chicago, the exercise of power was naked and direct; she knew that all too well. Blackwater’s old-fashioned gentility masked its insistence on the status quo, an insight that made her uneasy.

What’s Blackwater Falls About?

Well, I could put this in a very bare-bones way—a pair of detectives take over a murder investigation in a small town outside of Denver. There’ve been a number of complaints about the Sherriff, so Denver PD has sent them. One high school girl has been killed, and there are rumors of two others that are missing. The detectives deal with local roadblocks, an antagonistic Sherriff’s department, and some internal troubles as they search for answers.

This is not a new idea to Police Procedurals—at all. And for good reason—that’s the makings of a good story. But…let’s put some meat on those bones and see what Khan does that makes this novel stand out.

Detective Imaya Rahman has recently moved from Chicago to Denver, following some professional failure and personal trauma (it’s initially unclear what both were). She’s part of the Community Response Unit—which is assigned to any case calling for police accountability, particularly in cases involving overpoliced communities/areas. The unit was formed following the protests of 2020, and Rahman was involved in police oversight back in Chicago, it was a natural fit. The murder victim—a Syrian refugee—was a member of the same mosque that Rahman and her family attends (her father’s a criminal defense attorney, and her younger sisters attend a local college, I’m not sure what her mother does other than worry about getting her daughters married), and was discovered in that mosque. Her body was posed and displayed in a way that seemed to invoke both Christ’s crucifixion and the Virgin Mary. Between the victim, the building, and the imagery—this screams hate crime. And the tensions between the Sherriff’s Department and the (largely immigrant) Muslim community in the area are at a boiling point.

Enter CRU and Det. Rahaman, in particular. Her partner was a former trauma therapist who moved into criminal psychology, bringing valuable insights and profiling abilities. Before joining the CRU, Det. Catalina Hernandez had worked for years on the border helping immigrants with legal and medical aid. With her eye for detail, her ability to relate to the immigrant population of Blackwater Falls, and her people skills; and Rahman’s investigative instincts and shared background with the victim’s families—they’re the ideal team for this case.

There’s no dearth of suspects—there’s an evangelical megachurch in town where the preaching is as frequently anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant as it is pro-Christ. There’s the Disciples, a Christian motorcycle club—they appear to be the enforcers of the outlook of said megachurch (and make an aggressive appearance at the victim’s home the day of her body’s discovery). There’s the private (and very white) school the victim attended, where she’d been harassed and assaulted for her race, her apparel, and her success. Part of that success was getting a coveted internship at a local tech firm that she’d recently been fired from. Lastly, her father had been part of a movement to organize a union at the plant he worked at—and management’s response was both aggressive and seemingly targeted at the families of the organizers.

It seemed like a large suspect pool when I was reading it, but having typed it all out just now, it seems even more daunting.

As I said earlier, the Sherriff’s department is hostile—naturally because no one likes being pushed off a case, and possibly because there’s a good reason for them to be removed. At the same time, they seem awfully well-informed about what’s happening in the investigation (as do some of the potential suspects)—does the CRU have a leak?

The Subplots/Worldbuilding

Yeah, even with all of that going on, Khan is able to work in a handful of subplots—some of which serve the story, some establish the characters, and some help build the foundation of a series. It doesn’t feel over-stuffed and nothing is given short shrift. I’m not going to go into them all at this point because I don’t want this post to get too long, so I’ll be vague here.

This is a fantastic world here (well, okay, it’s a horrible world because it’s pretty realistic—but it’s a fantastic world for the purposes of an ongoing series. I’m pretty sure that the entities that proved to have nothing to do with the murder will be seen again in relation to a future crime.

The tensions and problems within the CRU will give all the characters opportunities for growth and development as that Unit becomes better (or devolves into uselessness).

Over the course of the case, Rahman and Hernandez form an alliance (and possible budding friendship) with a local attorney and minority rights activist—the potential for mutual aid and clashes within this group of women alone is enough to fuel readers’ imaginations for a few books.

Also, you have to account for Rahman’s backstory, family, and potential romantic entanglements that we’ve only scratched the surface of in this book, it’s going to take a few more to really explore all of this. And I’m sure the other members of the team could have similar arcs as well.

Culture Clashes

Blackwater Falls is a pretty diverse community at the present (but not historically)—you’ve got the families that have made this community over the generations—largely white, Protestant (of various types), and moderately-to-very affluent. There’s a new Muslim community appearing—Rahman’s family, Syrian refugees, and significant numbers of Somalis—largely brought into do blue-collar work. Denver’s CRU itself is pretty diverse.

The key to both success when it comes to this case and for the health of the community is understanding each other to some extent. Khan makes this point subtly throughout, but you can’t walk away from the book without it making an impression. The detectives struggle to overcome their lack of understanding of parts of the communities, cultures, and religions in the town, as do the citizens/residents, the suspects, and (I think I can say without spoiling anything) even the killer is tripped up by not really understanding things. The lack of mutual respect and awareness will destroy this unit and community until bridges are built—and used.

For the way she handles this theme alone, Khan deserves a kudos or two.

So, what did I think about Blackwater Falls?

I think I’ve tipped my hand already here. I was very impressed by this book—I’ve seen a lot of people talk about how a good police procedural can be written post-George Floyd. Here’s the answer. Khan tackles the struggles of a police department trying to do the job they’ve always done while making slow changes and resisting others—the CRU’s lieutenant (who I’ve ignored solely for reasons of space up until now) is the poster child for this. There are outside voices wanting these changes to happen more rapidly and others decrying the entire idea—and these detectives are stuck in the middle while trying to stop a murderer.

Is this a template for others? No. But it’s a shining example that the subgenre can survive and thrive. Possibly even drawing new readers in, too.

The character work—both major and minor—is fantastic, there’s not one of them that couldn’t walk off the page as a living, breathing person. The pacing is tight. The tension is organic and ratchets up throughout just the way it should. The mystery(ies) are well-plotted and executed. Khan left a giant red herring for readers to be distracted by, wondering why the detectives weren’t following one line of investigation—and my notes are full of my grumbling about it, smug in knowing that I’d figured out a significant part of the case (and maybe the killer’s identity) hundreds of pages ahead of them. And as I called it a red herring, I clearly couldn’t have been more wrong, but I didn’t give up on it until I had to.

Right now, I have this sense that there are a point or two that I intended to make that I’ve completely forgotten about—and I feel bad about that, because this is one of those books that you can really sink your teeth into. At the same time, I have a sense that I’m nearing the “said too-much” line, so I’ll leave this here and not try to think of those neglected points.

This is a great procedural in the way it embraces the defining traits and pushes them in new ways, it’s a great character study, a good commentary on several issues facing the country—and it’s a pretty solid mystery, too (can’t forget that). I’m more than eager to see where this series goes next. Get your hands on this one, friends.


4 1/2 Stars

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Catch-Up Quick Takes: A Few Audiobooks from December

I’m a little worried after all of last week’s Favorites lists, I’m having a hard time writing something that takes multiple paragraphs. Thankfully? I had another stack of books I don’t have that much to say, so…let’s do a few more quick takes.

As always, I want to note, the point of these quick takes posts is to catch up on my “To Write About” stack—emphasizing pithiness, not thoroughness.


Stone ColdStone Cold

by C. J. Box, David Chandler (Narrator)

DETAILS:
Series: Joe Pickett, #14
Publisher: Recorded Books
Publication Date: March 10, 2014
Format: Unabridged Audiobook
Length: 10 hrs., 49 min.
Read Date: December 2-5, 2022
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(the official blurb)
This was a good way to bring Nate back into the series if nothing else. The story was okay, and seeing Joe balance out working for his new administrator and Gov. Rulon was fun. I was less-than-excited about Sheridan’s storyline, it was good to see her in action, and any way that Box can do that is okay with me—I just wanted more, I guess.

Bringing Missy in (and Box might as well have saved time with that reveal, anyone could’ve seen that coming 5 miles away) didn’t do much for me at all. The series really needs less of her, and I don’t get Box’s need to use her as much as he does.

A decent installment in this series—nothing special, but nothing bad, either.
3 Stars

The Twist of a KnifeThe Twist of a Knife

by Anthony Horowitz, Rory Kinnear (Narrator)

DETAILS:
Series: A Hawthorne and Horowitz Mystery, #4
Publisher: HarperAudio
Publication Date: November 14, 2022
Format: Unabridged Audiobook
Length: 8 hrs., 31 min.
Read Date: December 12-15, 2022
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(the official blurb)
Until I heard Horowitz on a podcast talking about this book, I wasn’t sure if I was going to bother with the book—but he piqued my interest. I’m glad he did—he’s really good at keeping this series from falling into a formula, and bringing Hawthorne into this case to get Horowitz out of trouble was a nice twist (but something he can’t repeat).

I didn’t buy—at all—the way Horowitz didn’t involve his wife in his situation—or how she reacted. The way the other detectives focused on Horowitz and didn’t really listen to him seemed less-than-credible, too—but not as much.

Still, this was a fun listen—Kinnear’s a great narrator—and this mystery was clever. It was a good time—I know you’ll find more enthusiastic recommendations from several other people, and you should probably take their advice. The best I can do is that this book probably led me to get the next one .

3 Stars

Secrets Typed in BloodSecrets Typed in Blood

by Stephen Spotswood, Kirsten Potter

DETAILS:
Series: A Pentecost and Parker Mystery, #3
Publisher: Random House Audio
Publication Date: December 12, 2022
Format: Unabridged Audiobook
Length: 9 hrs., 40 min.
Read Date: December 15-19, 2022
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(the official blurb)
This was a nice step up from the previous books. Spotswood is gaining in confidence and it’s showing. The main client this time out was the best yet and was so believable—the crime was an interesting twist on a familiar setup (see the Castle pilot, for example). The secondary case was pretty much just filler (so much so that Pentecost was willing to give it up), but it still gave some good moments and set up some other promising things. There’s a side trip into an ongoing crusade of Pentecost’s that was really well done—I’m really interested in seeing how this progresses in the future.

This is clearly a Nero Wolfe-inspired series, but it’s becoming less of one all the time—and that’s good. Even better because Spotswood’s Zeck is going to prove to be more formidable and subtle than Stout’s was. (although I wish he’d give Parker the same kind of privacy when it comes to her personal life as Stout gave Archie)

Overall, I liked this.
3.5 Stars

Your Perfect YearYour Perfect Year

by Charlotte Lucas, Alison Layland (Translator), Carly Robins, P. J. Ochlan (Narrator)

DETAILS:
Publisher: Brilliance Audio
Publication Date: October 31, 2019
Format: Unabridged Audiobook
Length: 13 hrs., 33 min.
Read Date: December 23-28, 2022
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(the official blurb)
Ugh. A few years ago I was in the middle of a “I need to read more ‘General Fiction” kick and saw an advertisement (or something) for this—it wasn’t on a blog, I know that much. Something about the description appealed to me, and I got a good Whispersync deal, so the audio and ebook versions sat around since. I wanted to go through the ebook rather than the audio initially—but never seemed to find the time. But I finally broke down and just wanted to get it finished, it’s been calling to me for so long.

I should have held off a little (or a lot) longer. This book didn’t work for me in just about every imaginable way. Within a chapter or two you could see how the whole thing was going to go—including the “big surprise twist”. This is fine if the ride’s enjoyable. But it really wasn’t. The comedy wasn’t all that funny. The drama felt contrived (it’s fiction—all of it is contrived, I realize—but there’s “contrived” and there’s “feeling contrived”). The introspection and self-discovery really didn’t click for me, either.

The best thing I can say about it is that the arc of the publisher of only captial-L Literature and noteworthy Non-Fiction discovering the value and appeal of popular fiction was pleasant (and I just spoiled that…oops). A little self-serving for the writer of popular fiction, but I’m not going to criticize that.

Just pass on this one.
2 Stars

This post contains affiliate links. If you purchase from any of them, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, my opinions are my own.

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