Chase was just a child when his pregnant mother was murdered, and his father committed suicide. Orphaned, he’s eventually claimed by his paternal grandfather, Jonah, a career criminal with a reputation for being hard as nails and ready to do whatever it takes to stay in the game. He can kill a man in cold blood without batting an eye, or needing a good reason.

By the time Chase is a teenager he’s already an accomplished wheelman, working robberies with Jonah, but unlike his grandfather, Chase has heart. When he sees Jonah kill a man, he quickly realizes that even their blood tie wouldn’t be enough to stop Jonah from turning his gun on him if he thinks he needs to. Chase decides to walk away from the only family he has left.

Unfortunately, his skill as a mechanic and driver – as well as a criminal – amount to the only education he has to fall back on. He doesn’t get on the straight and narrow. Instead, he steers clear of his grandfather and heads out of state.

Life changes for Chase when a female police officer sees the robbery in progress and goes to investigate. Chase barely manages to gain control of the situation, but is captivated by the tough woman who controls her fear, while staring down the barrel of a gun. The choices Chase makes that night alter the course of his life, and ultimately he does turn his life around, eventually marrying Lila, the cop. He works hard to keep his demons at bay, but when the unthinkable happens Chase has to avenge the woman he loves… and reaches out to Jonah for help.

As I read THE COLD SPOT, I was intrigued by the layers of the story. On the surface, the book has a lot of action, the kind of adrenaline-charged scenes that lend themselves to the big screen: car chases, murders, heists, and even some physical combat. However, there’s a deeper story that’s simmering beneath the plot twists. The question THE COLD SPOT poses is whether a tiger can change its stripes. How much of Chase was programmed from an early age, and can he ever truly break free from his roots, or will it take only one tragedy to take him back to his criminal ways?

It also toys with other interesting themes, about the ties that bind us to our families, forgiveness, and the fine line between love and hate. The relationship between Chase and his grandfather is an uneasy one at best, and with a hardened criminal like Jonah as one part of the equation the reader has the sense that anything can happen.

The other relationship dynamic that was particularly interesting to me was the one that existed between Chase and his father. I don’t think there’s much in this review that isn’t clear from, or alluded to, on the jacket of the book, and I don’t want to give any unnecessary spoilers. However, considering Chase’s father is dead from the start of the book, I found it intriguing to see how much influence Chase’s father had over him, and how that influenced his choices. Chase is determined not to be like his dad, but in some ways ends up mirroring him.

With the confidence of a master storyteller, Piccirilli resists handing us all the answers to the questions raised throughout the book, and while we’re given the impression that we may know what happened to Chase’s mother all those years ago, the possible explanation isn’t fully explored. THE COLD SPOT is being followed by THE COLDEST MILE, and one can hope that means further revelations and another confrontation between Chase and Jonah, one that might shed more light on their complex relationship.

I’m also intrigued by the idea of a second book with Chase, because in book one we’ve seen him mend his ways, only to fall from grace. Because we know that he’s capable of turning his life around, and essentially has a good heart, there’s a sense that his future may not be written in stone, and there’s hope that he may ultimately be redeemed.

It’s hard to review a writer like Piccirilli. His writing is so fluid and his storytelling has a natural rhythm that makes it nearly impossible to critique. I admire the way that he tells energetic, action-packed stories that cut deeper and probe questions about what it is to be human, to love, to change, and how the things that happen to us in our lives shape the person we ultimately become.

My first foray into Glen Cook's writing was less than a success. I got through about 50 pages of The Tyranny of the Night and threw it across the room—page after page containing made up words with no explanation of what they meant. Every problem that people have with fantasy books was made evident in those first 50 pages and I had never gone back to a Glen Cook world.

However, I'm a big fan of the subgenre, urban-fantasy, and when I read that Cook's Garrett PI novels were an early representation of said genre, I quickly bought the first book. I should have left it collecting dust in the used bookstore I found it in. In truth, this is more of a detective story in a cartoony world than an urban-fantasy.

Sweet Silver Blues is the first book in the Garrett PI universe. It’s centered around a man named Garrett who works as a PI in a town called TunFaire, where its citizens consist of dwarves, elves, trolls, and many other fabled creatures. Yes, Garrett is a PI in a fantasy world where humans coexist with the other species. Sounds very similar to the Toontown in Who Framed Roger Rabbit , but with more sex and killing.

Also, pivotal to Garrett's world are two warring factions that have been fighting wars for land that contain silver—silver being the prime metal all sorcerers use for their, well, sorcery. A tenuous pitch at best. Nothing more concerning these sides fighting is explained, although I'm sure later books go into more detail, this seeming important. But honestly, I'm sure like me, you won't be able to rush fast enough to get out of Garrett's and Cook's world.

The main problem I had with this book is that nothing really happens, and for a short book that’s surprising. Garrett is supposed to be a PI but there is barely any detective work that gets done. When he needs a new clue, some goons attack him; he in turn beats the goons up; the goons cry and whine, spilling information which leads him to the next clue. Any detective work that gets done is done off-page—the character having done the detecting then comes back and explains how he went about his detecting. It's all entirely superficial and becomes increasingly irritating and boring.

Another problem is the action sequences. I mean come on! Most of the characters just spend the pages drinking, getting drunk, and then trying to recover from being drunk. That's mainly the action that gets done in the book. Why would I want to read page after page of others just drinking and talking about drinking? Thanks, but no thanks. I can just as easily be drinking and not reading this book.

Also, I have to take Mr. Cook to task with his dialogue. Again, his dialogue is peppered with too "cool" for school lingo that entirely exists in his own little world. Half the time I didn't know what anyone was talking about (and I've studied Dostoevsky, Beckett and Nabokov for most of my life!!). Cook's sentences are also quite terse and short, leaving much unexplained.

And what’s with Cook’s characterization of the different species? My god!! It essentially goes like this: Here is a dwarf—she’s short, yet somehow leggy and sexy. Here is a centaur—look at him run around with his large testicles. *Cue laughter.* I mean is this the best he can do? I mean, really?

The positives? It's a quick read, there are sexy dwarves, there’s everyone's favorite interspecies mating, and well, the series does continue in other books (although this as a positive is debatable).

As Peter Griffin in Family Guy so eloquently put it when faced with a stand-up comedy act he disliked, "You sir, are not for me. No. No, not for me, sir." Alas I must say the same thing to Mr. Cook. While I did finally finish one of his books, I must sadly say, "You sir, are not for me."

Not recommended unless you are dead set on wasting more hours of your life. Rated a low 3/10

If you liked this also check out: trains crashing, New Jersey, a day at the dentist’s, and the always enjoyable, high-school bully beating.

When Tommy Savage is threatened by someone he doesn’t know - a man who calls himself Smith and wears a ski mask – he turns to his brother for help to try to find out who’s blackmailing him for fifty grand. When Smith proves he’s capable of cold-blooded murder, Savage fears for the safety of his sons and is desperate to find out who Smith is and why he has a grudge against him.

And that isn’t even half the story. It isn’t even the tip of the iceberg, but I’m going to avoid specifics as much as possible to avoid spoilers. What will be of more interest to those considering this book is the nature of the content and the themes, particularly in comparison to Guthrie’s previous work.

When I reviewed HARD MAN last year I said:

I wondered how Guthrie was going to top his achievement with HARD MAN. I approached SAVAGE NIGHT with nervous anticipation, unsure of what would be in store for me.

From page one it was clear that Guthrie had grown as a writer. I do not mean to take anything away from this Theakston award-winning debut TWO-WAY SPLIT, his Edgar, Anthony and Gumshoe Nominated novel, KISS HER GOODBYE, or HARD MAN, which won the Spinetingler award for Best Novel-New Voice. However, every author faces the challenge of matching or bettering their prior works. Not content to just nudge the bar higher, with SAVAGE NIGHT Guthrie shows an ability to push himself and rise to the challenge.

Guthrie has moved away from the stream-of-consciousness narrative-intensive style that served HARD MAN so well and has drawn us into the center of the story from the opening lines. Why is a headless dead man in a tub in Fraser’s living room? And who is he? Many books start off grounding the reader with either a character or hooking them with action. In short order, Guthrie effortlessly does both. With an economy of words he skillfully develops character, setting and hooks the reader through the events unfolding on the page.

SAVAGE NIGHT is a layered story that is told from multiple perspectives, and moves back and forth over a short span of time. Time shifts can prove difficult for authors to pull off, but I never felt lost or disoriented with the transitions in SAVAGE NIGHT. Every writer who’s ever used the teaser, “If only I’d known what would happen” at the end of a chapter to tell readers something dramatic is about to happen that they should stick around for, or some variation of it, should read this book. The shifts managed to both leave questions answered and raise new questions. Through the use of the intersecting timelines Guthrie does not always conceal information. In fact, from the first pages we know who some of the characters who will die are, and we know they’re doomed. Instead of building suspense by always leaving readers to wonder what will happen, Guthrie makes us wonder why this is happening. As the story moved back in time a few weeks and began to reveal the background I found my sympathies shifting, and the process continued throughout the book. Ultimately, Guthrie succeeds in painting the characters as flawed and real. At times I loved and at other times I loathed almost all of them. No matter how I felt about them at any given point in the story I was fascinated by their behaviour, and wanted to see what choices they would make next.

The book grabbed my attention from the start and easily maintains the pace throughout, building to a boil by the end. By putting some of the critical events out in the open at the beginning Guthrie has not given us spoilers. Instead, SAVAGE NIGHT is a story that involves watching dominoes fall, but the intricate maze of blocks weaves around so many obstacles you can’t see where it will ultimately end. As a result, the reveals throughout the book have the impact of a punch in the stomach. Even some of the smallest details have significance later on. Guthrie shows his skill by not drawing unnecessary attention to those variables, and trusts in the reader to form the connections later.

The result is a stimulating read that demands your full attention, and it’s easy to give it because the book is packed with action, and plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing to the end.

No analysis of a work by Guthrie would be complete without discussing violence. It should be noted that I’m actually pretty squeamish and have a low tolerance for pain. I said HARD MAN made me feel as though someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and shoved it down my throat: ultimately, parts of SAVAGE NIGHT had me feeling faint. It’s a good thing I was sitting down when I was reading (as opposed to being on an exercise bike for anyone wondering where else I might be) because there were places I had to close my eyes and put my head between my knees.

There is no doubt that some readers will not be able to get past that part of the content. I will say that initially, I didn’t feel SAVAGE NIGHT was as violent as HARD MAN because in HARD MAN we get the worst content from the victim. Although some of the earlier scenes in SAVAGE NIGHT limit us to the perspective of the one inflicting the pain, that will enable readers with a lower tolerance for pain to get far into the book before they discover Guthrie doesn’t stop there.

One of the reasons it’s important that Guthrie doesn’t shy away from the graphic content is that it is tied to the characters and their development. In the wake of the release of HARD MAN Guthrie was criticized by some who labeled the book as torture porn, an assertion that baffled me. The violence is directly connected to the nature of the characters involved. Those who were content to criticize Guthrie for HARD MAN will probably want to lynch him for SAVAGE NIGHT. It may be a slight spoiler for me to say that as someone who partially severed their foot as a child, there are certain methods of inflicting pain that bother me more than others, and while no feet are severed in SAVAGE NIGHT I have no doubt that anyone who reads the book will understand why I had spasms in my foot while I was reading.

While I have abandoned other books where the violence felt gratuitous, there are multiple reasons why the violence not only works in Guthrie’s novels, but is essential.

Guthrie is not writing police procedurals, and is not writing about average people with average lives. His work tends to feature those on the edges of society, criminals who’ve managed to elude conviction but are no saints and those who are blowing their second or third chance at proving they can rejoin society. These are not the genteel streets of Edinburgh where we will spend our time with polite society. For the most part, these people are not angels, and it would be inappropriate to present them as non-violent and civilized. Most of them understand reasoning by force and the work they do requires demonstration. Steal from the boss, become an example so that nobody else tries to double-cross their employer. Expecting Guthrie to shy away from the use of violence by career criminals would be comparable to suggesting that Omar should never have to shoot the drug dealers he’s robbing on The Wire, and the results would be laughable and unrealistic.

The one thing that every person understands is pain. We may not all understand what it is to love a certain way, or to be prepared to murder someone, even if they’ve done horrific things to you. But is there one of us that can’t recall stubbing a toe in such a way we wondered if we’d broken it, or how it felt to slice your skin so deep you needed stitches or the feeling of slamming your fingers in a door? Guthrie shows the connection we can form to characters we otherwise wouldn’t necessarily sympathize with by sharing their pain with us. In the end, no matter what a person has done they’re still human. By showing us the cruelty that someone can willingly inflict on another person we come closer to understanding what drives some of the violence in our society.

It isn’t pretty, but I’m hard pressed to think of another author who exceeds his skill at depicting violence in such a way that the reader almost feels they’ve experienced what happened to the person in the story. While some authors touted as hardboiled take the label proudly, writers like Guthrie redefine the subgenre. Others allude to terrible events happening off the page that might motivate a character to behave a certain way, but in order for us to truly grasp the reasons behind the choices characters make in SAVAGE NIGHT, Guthrie shows us. It’s an unflinching look at the damage one person can do to another, confronting us with the physical and emotional pain that damage produces.

In SAVAGE NIGHT, an ability to appreciate that pain is required to understand the events that unfold. Ultimately, I felt every scene, every element included, had been carefully measured. There are many places within the story where Guthrie could have been more graphic than he was, but by pulling a few punches where they aren’t needed he makes the ones he includes count, and he shows discernment. He’s willing to step back from the violence by giving the reader some separation when it isn’t necessary to know or experience more first-hand.

In the same way that at times I loved and loathed some of the characters, readers will undoubtedly have mixed opinions about Guthrie’s latest, and I expect those opinions will be strong. This is not the type of story you feel indifferent about. For me, SAVAGE NIGHT was at times mesmerizing, horrifying, shocking, spellbinding and thought-provoking. The question of how far you would go to avenge a loved one is front and center, and there are no easy answers. True to form, Guthrie doesn’t shy away from the complexities of human reasoning, of how we justify horrendous choices and inhumane acts. He probes into the human psyche, showing us how guilt and fear as well as anger and hurt can drive us to do the unthinkable. My only disappointment with SAVAGE NIGHT was reaching the end, knowing that now begins the long wait for his next book.

Discuss this book or the review here.

Queenpin is the story of a young woman in a nameless town, presumably somewhere in the US. She catches the eye of Gloria Denton, a woman working with the mob, involved in several illegal activities. The young woman – who is not named during the course of the book – impresses Gloria, and Gloria takes her under her wing and begins teaching her the ropes. She launders money, makes deliveries and pick-ups, and in general, runs errands for Gloria.

However, when our young apprentice gets herself in a bind she has to decide how far she’s prepared to go to protect herself.

If you do not wish to be exposed to any spoilers, you should stop reading now. In order to write an objective in-depth assessment of the work the content must be referred to. Otherwise you end up saying, “It isn’t good” or “I didn’t like it” or something comparably generic, and that isn’t a critical assessment – it’s a judgment that’s unsupported.

The first thing I had trouble with was the anchorless aspect. I had the southwest in my head just by assumption, but was completely thrown by a comment one of the characters made, referring to the police as “Mounties”. Perhaps it’s because I’m a Canadian, and the Mounties have been our national police force for 88 years, and prior to that part of the country was policed by the RNWMP, who were also dubbed Mounties… But it pulled me right out of the story. I was baffled – had Americans ever called their police Mounties? Maybe they had, but as I tried to search online to see if I could support the phrase I was disconnected from the experience of reading the book. At the time, I could only find Canadian references to Mounties, so I eventually returned to the book with the nagging question weighing on my brain. I have since been told that county cops in some places are sometimes called Mounties, but this was one of the main reasons the anchorless aspect of the book didn’t work for me. I can speculate that it’s supposed to be Any Town USA – much the same as not naming the protagonist makes her Any Woman – but suggesting any town in the US is a reach. I would assume the intent is to suggest the events could happen anywhere, but I’m not sure I agree. In the Bible belt? Doubtful. And it was something I was prompted to think about when I hit the Mountie line, because I certainly didn’t believe it could be Any Town Canada.

Another reason the anchorless aspect didn’t work for me was because I never got a sense of place. Perhaps the fact that I’m not American worked against me. After reading the book I spoke to a few other people. One had assumed it was set in New Jersey, another suggested Kansas City, and Chicago-area was also suggested. It’s for the reader to decide if that matters to them, and some readers may not be bothered by this at all.

This brings me to the idea of the protagonist as Any Woman, or Every Woman. Neither sit well with me, perhaps because I am a woman, and the protagonist isn’t any woman I’ve ever known.

I could believe in Gloria. From the scars she carried to her ability to read people to the way she handled herself situation after situation I fully believed in her as a very tough, shrewd woman managing herself in a dangerous criminal enterprise, always looking out for her own best interests first, but still having the capacity to care about her underling and try to shield her. She brought that feminine aspect to her job: After discovering her apprentice had betrayed her, had Gloria been a man I feel certain the book would have ended there, or at least been forced to change narrators by necessity of the death of our protagonist. Instead, Gloria shows mercy.

However, what I didn’t believe in was Gloria giving her young apprentice so much rope so fast after the apprentice betrayed her. I believed Gloria spotted the carefully executed con in a heartbeat, only waiting to confirm the details before confronting her underling. When Gloria confronts her it’s chilling. Scenes like that showcase Abbott’s obvious ability to create tension and leave a reader on the edge of their seat, as they wait to see what will happen.

Throughout the story we’re given the impression through the protagonist’s own communication with police that almost all the local officers are on the take, paid to the look the other way, and the ones who aren’t can’t get around their shady bosses and make any charges stick.

That left me wondering how it was possible that there would be a huge shake-up in the police department, new cops coming in who weren’t on mob payroll, without Gloria knowing about it. If Gloria’s bosses wanted to hang her out to dry, and had cut her out of the loop in order to expose her, I could have accepted that. However, if that were the case they wouldn’t have been persuaded not to move against Gloria’s apprentice after her betrayal, and there is no indication that was the case from within the story.

In other words, this foolproof, tightly run criminal enterprise was really a boat with holes taking on so much water you couldn’t bail it out fast enough.

Which brings us back to our protagonist. Why did she want the life? I really have no idea. I guess it came down to easy money, escaping poverty. Whatever the case, we’re presented with a girl who seems to have good instincts for deceit from the beginning, but who is unable to control herself and stay focused. This is where several little problems come up.

For one thing, you can’t plan attraction. There was nothing ever to indicate what appealed to our young apprentice, and you also can’t rely on luck to attract attention. Vic, our protagonist’s love interest, does nothing to try to get her, specifically, to notice him. As someone who went in and out of casinos daily, our protagonist would have witnesses scenes like the one that ultimately introduces her to Vic many times before. Seeing high rollers on a winning streak would be nothing new. Her sudden, compelling interest in him is a fluke, and that’s what makes it hard to believe it was all part of a carefully planned, elaborate con job.

Add to that, her sexual predilections. I had trouble with this. As much as I don’t enjoy reading pages and pages of graphic sex, vague references to doing that and that were as generic as the nameless protagonist and unidentified location were intended to be, and didn’t work for me either. I suppose the reader is expected to fill in the blanks with what extreme sexual activities we think fit the bill, but perhaps I’ve read too many books that contained just enough extreme sex for me to be left thinking whatever this girl conceived in her mind as being that dirty and unspeakable probably wasn’t that dirty. I had the feeling I was supposed to be shocked by their activities, but this rang hollow for me, since I didn’t know what they were doing. There were other things in the book that did shock me, but this wasn’t one of them.

And again, being a perfect sexual fit for someone isn’t something you can scheme that easily. It’s one thing if you’re seducing a much older woman who’s lonely, but this is a young, attractive woman who could have her pick of men to satisfy her. She’s also in a business that requires discretion, and she’s not going to settle for average in the relationship department.

Our protagonist’s sexual addiction to Vic was another problem for me. She becomes the infatuated teenager with stars in her eyes who can’t keep her legs together – and blows off her job at times to satisfy her urges. One thing to note from that is how careless that is, particularly in her line of work, and then again, we’re asked to believe her boss doesn’t notice as this goes on for several weeks.

Ultimately, we’re asked to believe this impulsive girl who can’t control herself is going to upstage her boss and outmaneuver her in the end. That’s where the story unraveled completely for me. Whatever her faults, Gloria was always careful. Her life depended on it. She’d been warned before and was never careless. She would have noticed what was going on. One could ask if perhaps it was a test, and speculate that Gloria did see what was coming but wanted her apprentice to walk into the trap so that she could deal with her and try to ensure her future loyalty, but if that was the case Gloria wouldn’t have needed to do anything to handle the situation afterwards. She would have been prepared for all of the fall-out and confronted her underling immediately, which she didn’t do.

I believe Gloria would have been extremely vigilant in the wake of her apprentice’s betrayal. After all, this is a woman with the scars on her chest, demonstrating the lessons she’d been taught about loyalty. It is not just her underling who will be on the chopping block if she screws up again – Gloria herself will fall as well because she stepped out on the limb for her, and she knows it. Therefore, I find it impossible to believe Gloria would have taken such a risk with her apprentice so soon after the betrayal and subsequent murder.

Furthermore, when the cops want to speak to our protagonist, we’re told that she’s been paying attention and is pretty sure Gloria didn’t have anyone following her. And yet she wasn’t paying attention enough before to realize she was being followed, observed? You aren’t a pro at spotting surveillance the first time you try to do it. This is something that would have been part of her job, and early on, at the track, she was tested in her ability to handle unexpected situations.

How could Vic have been planning to set her up from before their first meeting, and our protagonist not even notice?

Finally, we come to the end of the book, and the apprentice has moved up in the world, taking over the equivalent of Gloria’s position with a different boss. Do I believe that another shrewd mastermind of a budding criminal organization in the same town wouldn’t have a better sense of what really happened to Gloria, that the apprentice snitched to the cops?

In a word, no. To not at least be highly suspicious…

We’re asked to believe this young girl is smarter than them all, that for the years of experience within the mob that they have, none of these seasoned criminals can see the truth about her and how disloyal she can be.

The scars on Gloria’s chest were proof enough these people would handle a woman as readily as a man. They didn’t play around.

Which left me wondering how our protagonist managed to have two good legs left to walk away on in the end. Certainly if Amos Mackey could find her, Gloria’s bosses would have come calling first, and demanded their pound of flesh for her sins. I don’t care if their organization was faltering: My impression of these types of criminal organizations is that you don’t let anyone rat you out and live to tell about it.

There are parts within the story that do show what a capable storyteller Abbott is. Ultimately, I found myself more interested in Gloria than our protagonist, which speaks to Abbott’s ability to create compelling characters. The consequences of the apprentice’s betrayal were shocking, and even as a reader not fully engaged in the story I felt the dramatic tension and wanted to know how things would unfold. Perhaps that’s a greater compliment to the author than one would realize, because if you’re fully engrossed in a book that’s working for you, it’s easy to believe in such scenes. It’s much more difficult to pull in someone who hasn’t given themselves over wholly to the world you’re portraying.

While this particular offering of Abbott’s didn’t work for me personally, it has been widely praised and nominated for awards, and I am clearly in the minority with my opinion. All I can say is that I will be seeking out more work by Abbott in the future, in the hopes that other books capitalize on what I perceive to be her strengths.

"Hip Flask: Concrete Jungle" was very much what I expected in terms of continuing the stories begun in the "Elephantmen: Wounded Animals" graphic novel. This volume could be considered a stand-alone volume in some circles, but in my own experience, it was a mistake to attempt to read "Concrete Jungle" without reading "Wounded Animals" first. "Concrete Jungle" offers only the barest recap into previous events which helps jog the memory of readers who are already familiar with the series, but offers little in the way of explanation to readers who are experiencing "Elephantmen" for the first time. The first attempt at reading this volume was largely unenjoyable because I didn't have the faintest idea why I should care about any of these characters. After reading (and very much enjoying) "Wounded Animals," I began reading "Concrete Jungle" again and discovered it to be a far better volume than I'd anticipated.

As with "Wounded Animals," "Concrete Jungle" masquerades as a pulpy, genre action story that centers on Hip Flask, the Elephantman who appears to be a bipedal hippopautamus. He was introduced in "Wounded Animals" as a private investigator type who's been contracted by a branch of official law enforcement. His exact employment status and agency aren't fully revealed, but it's clear that he's meant to be on the side of the "good guys" as much as this series can be said to have "good guys."

Once again the artists have gone for a look that while richly textured is decidedly dark and gritty which is fitting considering the hard-boiled pulp noir storyline. This book follows Hip Flask through the partial investigation of a case that clearly involves a hitman, the elephantman Obadiah Horn, and a man named Serengheti. What isn't clear is exactly how the case will be resolved because this volume, frustratingly enough, doesn't contain a full story arc. It's obviously setting up plot elements for bigger and better things to come in the series, though the cliff-hanger ending is less about cheap tricks to sell more books and more about a logical place to end what is, essentially, a single chapter in a much larger work. "Concrete Jungle" shifts between plot threads fluidly, while only weaving a couple of them into the larger storyline. The reader gets the impression that they can trust the author and artists to resolve all of these glimpses into a coherent whole, especially if that reader has gotten to read "Wounded Animals." The changes in characters and plotlines are nothing new for "Elephantmen" and it's part of what keeps the story so interesting.

The "Elephantmen" series is a fast-cut action series skillfully melded with noir and near-future science fiction and "Concrete Jungle" is no exception, however, as with "Wounded Animals", much larger and deeper issues are at the heart of this story. "Concrete Jungle" raises issues of scientific ethics and responsibility, racism, economics, and even provokes some thought on law enforcement and prisons. While this certainly shouldn't surprise readers of graphic novels or genre fiction in general (because much of it does contain worthy statements on society and culture), the simple fact is that the "Elephantmen" series carries all this issues within a story that brings them up without ever getting horribly preachy or boring in the slightest. "Concrete Jungle" is one of those books that a person can't help thinking about after reading it, and that's certainly not a bad thing at all.

A movie producer hurtles to his death from the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, an apparent suicide that shocks the film community and puts a two hundred million dollar production in jeopardy.

His colleague, Grace, doesn’t believe it was suicide and turns to private detective Cape Weathers to find the truth. To solve the case, Cape and his friend Sally—an assassin raised by the Triads—take on the Russian mob, a major movie studio, and a recalcitrant police department by enlisting the help of rogue cops, computer hackers, and an investigative journalist who just doesn’t give a damn. But with a sniper on their trail, the challenge will be staying alive long enough to find out the truth.

Beating the Babushka is the second book in the Cape Weathers series following Stealing the Dragon earlier in the year. As with the earlier book Beating the Babushka is a lot of fun to read. I normally am not one to get caught up in a series but Maleeny's books have quickly become must-haves for me upon their release.

It is not necessary to have read the earlier book in the series to understand and appreciate what happens in Beating the Babushka. But I will say this, that a fuller understanding of Sally, one of the reoccurring characters in the series and Cape's back-up in tight situations, can only be had with a reading of the earlier book. But, Sally's character is just as vibrant and interesting without that prior knowledge though readers of the first book may feel that she is underused here after she had such a dominating role in the earlier book. Like all of the great deadly sidekick characters her time spent in the story isn't enough but Maleeny knows better then to spoil a good thing and ultimately leave us wanting more.

One of the things that are interesting here is the sustained Hollywood theme. Not only is the death of a movie producer at the heart of the story here but Beating the Babushka is filled with movie allusions and references as well as offering up a behind the scenes look at the business side of movie making.

Reflecting the shift in the power structure of organized crime in the U.S. it’s the Russian mob that dominates here. An outline of their history and their methods of dealing with other organizations (both legal and not) provide an interesting sub-plot. One of my favorite characters in Beating the Babushka is the retired Russian mobster known as The Pole. It will be an anecdote of his that will provide the title of the book. His character is one that you see sometimes in fiction, regardless of medium. A kind of idealized, gentlemen criminal, usually from the old country, who has a strict code of conduct. He doesn't care who he deals with as long as they adhere to this code and those that follow it have his trust and friendship. He proves to be a carefully crafted, intelligent, thoughtful friend to Cape who just happens to be on the wrong side of the law.

During the climatic fight scene at the end of Beating the Babushka it will be revealed to the astute reader that the events here take place a year before those in Stealing the Dragon, making it a prequel. This shows Maleeny's willingness to jump around in the timeline of these characters, which could make for some interesting stories down the road.

--Brian Lindenmuth

Fifteen years ago, Dashiell "Dash" Bad Horse ran away from a life of abject poverty and utter hopelessness on the Prairie Rose Indian Reservation searching for something better. Now he's come back home to find nothing much has changed on “The Rez” — short of a glimmering new casino, and a once-proud people overcome by drugs and organized crime.

At the center of the storm is Tribal leader Lincoln Red Crow, a former “Red Power” activist turned burgeoning crime boss who figures that after 100 years of the Lakota being robbed and murdered by the white man, its time to return the favor.

Now, armed with nothing but a set of nunchuks, a hell-bent-for-leather attitude and (at least) one dark secret, Dash must survive a world of gambling, gunfights, G-men, Dawg Soldierz, massacres, meth labs, trash sex, fry bread, Indian pride, Thunder Beings, the rugged beauty of the Badlands…and even a brutal scalping or two.

Indian Country collects the first five issues of the monthly series Scalped.

The art in Scalped is very good. Offering up shadows with hidden depths at times and bright, clear and detailed panel at others that may represent the duality of the story. Perhaps indicative of the pervasive skin tones of the characters or just a reflection of the sandy deserts where the story takes place there are a lot of red tones and shades in the art of Scalped. Just about every issue ends in a great cliffhanger moment that compels you to read further and the art accompanies these tense moments becomes fraught with peril and potential destruction.

Scalped is a great crime fiction story told in a medium that many crime fiction fans may not typically read, comics. They will unfortunately have missed out on what, when all is said and done, might just come out of left field to be one of best crime fiction novels of the year. But its much more then just a crime fiction story, it’s a bit of a hybrid that combines elements of action and crime stories bundled up neatly together with strong noir elements.

The action is unmistakable from the opening bar fight, where we first meet Red Horse, when, right before the action starts, he proclaims “Whicha you motherfuckers is gonna be the first to cry to Jesus.” From that point on fights will be started, weapons will be pulled, buns will blaze and the action will be relentless. The crime elements will feel familiar to some but only at the most superficial levels as it will only take a light scratch to reveal the depths of these characters that are anything but simple clichés. From the simple synopsis of the story these two elements can be surmised but the pervasive noir story was a pleasant surprise. Red Horse may be a tough guy but we quickly understand that he is an every-man that we can relate to in a lot of ways. He finds himself compelled, by forces largely beyond his control, to enter into a situation where he becomes little more then a pawn. With all these outside forces working against him the urge for his individuality to assert itself becomes stronger and stronger; but as these forces become practically insurmountable this simple task becomes harder and harder. Before long a complex mousetrap has been set for Red Horse.

At the end of the first issue there is a major revelation about one of the characters that changes the face of the entire story; enough to make you want to go back and re-read the first issue again before continuing on to the others. I’ll not go into specifics here about it but I do want to say that I think Aaron made a great decision to have the revelation happen so early on. A lesser writer would have been tempted to wait until much later in the series for the reveal, savoring the build up and trying to cleverly keep it hidden from the reader. Except that at some point it would have become guessable and the impact would have been lessened. As it is since it happens so early on the reader isn’t given time to try and figure such things out because we are becoming familiar with this new world, so its approach isn’t seen and the impact is greater. This was a great decision and really illustrates the care and attention paid to the construction of the story.

Readers entering this vivid and gripping world will be introduced to some of the most complex characters, loyalties and relationships in recent years. Not only are they created with three dimensions but their personalities, and again their relationships, have multi facets. There is a lot of depth and material to be explored here. Red Crow has a confusing sense of identity. An activist mother with strong ideals and beliefs raised him. But then he left everything behind, now all these years later he is both insider and outsider. Red Crow, of all the characters here, might just be the most lost, not knowing, at times, even which way is up. His mother Gina, trying always to stay true to her youthful ideals has become an anachronistic annoyance on The Rez, causing a lot of problems for the new power structure. She runs into problems trying to recruit member for the cause from the younger generation, who would much rather use a gun to win. Does Gina love her son more, or the cause? Then there is Lincoln Red Crow. What happens to a Red Power activist to make him betray the cause? Has he betrayed the cause? Or, is he furthering it by gaining some measure of economic power for his people? As these complex characters and their complex relationships, histories and loyalties intertwine it will become hard to know whom to root for, whom to root against and who will survive.

Through all of these characters, and this story, a lot of tough questions about America, race, class, vice, identity, history, cultural identity, loyalty, youthful ideals and their potential corruption will be asked. Some answers will be given but none of the questions and their potential answers are easy or neat and pretty.

This is a book that both entertains and makes you think.

--Brian Lindenmuth

Blood spilled on the asphalt of this town long years gone has left a stain, and it’s spreading.

Not that a thing like that matters to teenagers like George, Hector, Paul, and Andy. It’s summer 1983 in a northern California suburb, and these working-class kids have been killing time the usual ways: ducking their parents, tinkering with their bikes, and racing around town getting high and boosting their neighbors’ meds. Just another typical summer break in the burbs. Till Andy’s bike is stolen by the town’s legendary petty hoods, the Arroyo brothers. When the boys break into the Arroyos’ place in search of the bike, they stumble across the brothers’ private industry: a crank lab. Being the kind of kids who rarely know better, they do what comes naturally: they take a stash of crank to sell for quick cash. But doing so they unleash hidden rivalries and crimes, and the dark and secret past of their town and their families.

The spreading stain is drawing local drug lords, crooked cops, hard-riding bikers, and the brutal history of the boys’ fathers in its wake.

Over the course of his brief career Huston has very quickly become one of the top crime fiction writers. One of the things that is the most impressive about Huston's career so far is that he appears to be getting stronger with every new book.

In The Shotgun Rule, his first stand alone thriller, Huston pulls out all the stops. He uses every trick in his arsenal to full effect, while introducing some new ones as well. In A Dangerous Man Huston played with the dramatic tension in key scenes and the effect it had on the reader. By giving the conclusion to a scene in or near the beginning he doesn't allow us an effective way to release the tension that has built up; so we are left to carry it over to the next scene. Huston not only employs this technique in The Shotgun Rule but develops it further.

From the very beginning the book intersperses chapters of the kids casing a house that they are going to rob in the near future with chapters set in the present. This back and forth of the time line keeps the reader off balance and scrambling to catch up. Then with one fell swoop the dual story lines converge and close the first part of the book with one of the great reveals of all time. I found myself re-reading that moment more then once as I tried to come to terms with what he just did. More so then most other writers Huston shows a brazen willingness to yank the rug out from under his characters and his readers.

Another way that Huston manages to throw us off balance in tense situations is by abruptly switching the POV in mid-action sequence. He does this quite a few times and the outcome is quite unsettling. Right as you are settling into the skin of a character and the natural flow and rhythm of a scene as it unfolds you are jolted out of whatever comfort zone you have created. The effect leaves you spinning around and around so fast that you dont see the punch coming that knocks you flat on your ass.

Huston is a master of creating and maintaining dramatic tension. There are few that do it better. Most books start out on 11, back off after that initial burst to create back story and develop characters then slowly ramp back up to that first energy level. Huston manages to introduce back story and character development too but he does it all at full speed. There are no breathers, no pauses for reflection and no false back story moments that only exist to serve the present action.

One of his new tricks is to literally freezes the action in a tableau that gives us a quick snapshot of each of the SEVEN POV's involved. We are given a glimpse of what they are thinking and what they are about to do and just as suddenly as he stops the action he starts it back up again at full speed leting it all snap into place. The sudden perception of speeding up the action is incredible.

The Shotgun Rule has a pretty good sized cast of characters and they are all developed fully and given their own identity. One of the characters that we come to know much more about is one of the fathers, Bob. In the movie The Patriot there was a fantastic scene where Mel Gibson hatchets a man to a gruesome and bloody death in front of three of his children. Its a telling scene because he had been a solider who had fought in brutal wars who retired to a life of quiet seclusion and his family had only ever known him as this quiet, composed, quiet guy who didn't want to get involved in anything especially another war. But in that moment his children see for the first time this other side of him, the one filled with a berserker’s fury and an insatiable blood-lust. Bob we come to realize has a past. When his sons are in trouble Bob lets the beast out of the cage to help them. As we learn what he is capable of he goes from being a strict father to a very frightening figure whose shadow looms large over the second half of the book.

The setting of California in the early 80's is just as realized as the characters. From the music being listened to the importance of the BMX bike in the lives of the kids to the effects of the punk movement as it started to trickle out west to the afterimage of the fading 70's as the 80's and the next generation started to stake out its own identity. The story takes place on the cusp of a change. The older generation of characters refuses to accept that they are getting older; the younger generation aren't kids any longer as they come into their own. In the aftermath everyone will be different; some for the better and some not but I think that it’s safe to say that it’s a summer that none will ever forget.

Charlie Huston's first standalone book may just be his best one yet.

--Brian Lindenmuth

Michael McGill is a burned-out private detective and self-described "shit magnet" who is enlisted by the White House Chief of Staff to retrieve the Constitution of the United States, not the one taught about in history class but the REAL Constitution. The one with invisible amendments held in secret and meant to be used in a time of moral crisis to return the country back to more traditional values. The current presidency believes that time is now, but they have a problem. The book was lost 50 years ago and needs to be recovered. That's where Max comes in and his search for the missing constitution will lead him across the country and deeper into the shadows of America on a job that "started out weird" and turned "scary".


As far back as the Transmetropolitan series Ellis has worn his Hunter S. Thompson influence openly and on his sleeve. The main character from that series, gonzo journalist Spider Jerusalem, was nothing short of a fully realized future descendant of the good Doctor. From the look, to the shared maniacal gleam in their eyes, to the varied and excessive drug use no one would dare deny the lineage between the two. In the series there were other links between Thompson's and Ellis' works that included visual references and direct placement.


With Crooked Little Vein he still maintains that Thompson connection in many ways. For example in 1985 Thompson wrote a column called Nixon and the Whale Woman that was later collected in Generation of Swine. In it Thompson wrote:

Early in the book when the Chief of Staff recounts for McGill the origins and history of the alternate constitution we find out the specifics of when and how it was lost.




One of the prevailing themes of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was the death of the 1960's and the state of the American Dream. What’s explored in Crooked Little Vein is the idea that the American landscape is in the midst of a pole shift due in large part to the proliferation of the Internet. What’s voiced throughout the book is the notion that if those ideas/acts that once resided on the fringe now are readily accessible then the fringe is now the mainstream.


The groups engaging in these fringe practices (including but not limited to tantric ostrich sex and Godzilla bukakke) trade the book from one to another and this is the trail of clues that that McGill follows. The very book that could reset the national thought process acts as a totem for these groups. By controlling it they maintain an environment that is conducive for their actions. What's partly on display here is an exploration of freedom in America and the warts and all approach to freedom that is its purist form. In an update of Voltaire's often atributed quote I can honestly sit here and tell you that I will never inject a saline solution into my balls for any reason but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn't have the right to do so.


Ellis brings to this funhouse mirror exploration an outsiders view since he is not an American, but it is in these distorted images that a sharp satire emerges. What at first seems to be an exaggeration reveals itself to be much closer to reality then maybe we would sometimes like to admit. In the following example McGill is listening to a local radio station:




The center piece for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is what is now known as the wave speech. It acted as a summary and commentary of themes and the calm eye of the storm for that book. Crooked Little Vein has its own version of the wave speech that comes at about the halfway mark. While flying to Las Vegas McGill finds himself having a rather calm and lucid conversation with an indignant serial killer who, among other things, is upset at the way that the media is portraying him. Not only is this man presented as a voice of reason but he outlines one of the major themes of the book.




Thompson's wave speech ends with the most memorable line and one of the most well written passages of the book.




As McGill's makes his entrance into Vegas he hits the same exact point where the high water mark is almost visible, except that now, 35 years later, he sees something else. It too is one of the more memorable and better written passages in the book.




As the book winds down and McGill closes in on the constitution he realizes the amount of power that he now wields and he has to make a monumental decision. The end of the book is one that will have fans of Alfred Besters classic novel The Stars My Destination cheering as Ellis has McGill channel and then become a modern Gully Foyle.


Crooked Little Vein displays the full spectrum of Warren Ellis' imagination. As the story propels along at a machine guns pace he never loses sight of the central story arc. Any one page contains multiple images and ideas that a lesser writer would have been tempted to focus on and develop into a bland inconsequentiality. But here, in their brevity, they retain their razor sharp focus as well as another layer of enjoyment.


Not only will our protagonist stay in a Las Vegas hotel built in the shape of Christ the Redeemer dressed as Uncle Sam but we find dozens of other passages like these that make us smile, shake our head and almost wish they were developed further.






It should be noted that there is an overall pattern to the book that fans of Ellis will recognize. His protagonists tend to be intelligent, damaged people carrying some baggage. The protagonist always has a sexy (which doesn’t take away from her toughness) female assistant. Weird situations are explored and the cutting edge of technology is utilized. It is in this basic framework that Ellis constructs his fiction and is the style he has developed. But just because a style is recognizable does not mean that it is less enjoyable.


I can't recommend Crooked Little Vein enough.


Brian Lindenmuth

Detective Sonchai Jitpleecheep reflects the mysticism and apparent contradiction of Thailand that those of us of ‘Western’ origin just cannot understand. Yet he stands somewhat apart from Thai society as a half-caste who spent a significant time abroad while growing up. Firmly rooted in his Thai background and with his understanding of the Western world, Sonchai, son of a prostitute, devout Buddhist, and detective in one of the most corrupt police forces in the world, may be the only honest cop in the whole of Thailand – or at least what passes for an honest cop in that part of the world – and he’s the perfect guide through the dark, hot streets of Bangkok.

A horrific snuff film has been sent to Detective Jitpleecheep and Sonchai knows the victim intimately. She worked in his mother’s brothel where he became deeply enthralled by her. Now happily married, he is tormented by the film and feels driven to bring the killer to a uniquely Thai form of justice without regard for his own safety. Sonchai teams up with his trans-gender partner and a soul-searching FBI agent as men of power are implicated in a growing chain of murders. Ghosts, mysticism, and even sorcery clash with the world of prostitution, pornography, and poverty with Sonchai realizing his own role in the middle of it all an elephant hair too late.

Like Bangkok 8 and Bangkok Tattoo before it, Bangkok Haunts drags us through the underbelly of Thai society, through brothels and poverty in a very foreign land. Living most of his adult life in East and Southeast Asia, Burdett shows his deep understanding of Thailand and presents a different point of view, showing the hypocrisy of the West and its ‘good intentions’ through the jaded eyes of Sonchai. The story is dictated from his unique point of view to a Western audience, offering a subtle criticism of the West and its impact on the East through a dark, witty humor that blatantly challenges our basic assumptions.

Though it’s the third book featuring Detective Jitpleecheep, Bangkok Haunts stands on its own as a solid hard-boiled, noir crime novel without significantly spoiling the earlier books. However, a more rounded understanding of Bangkok, its sex industry, and some of the peripheral characters is gained from reading his earlier journeys – and they are journeys as much as anything.

I enjoyed Bangkok Haunts very much, but not quite as much as Bangkok 8 and Bangkok Tattoo. It lacks the punch in the gut of the culture shock and wry humor of Bangkok 8 and brilliance of the post-September 11th world revealed in Bangkok Tattoo, yet still captures feeling of ‘getting it right’ that Burdett creates in his vision and understanding of Bangkok. I highly recommend entering the world of Detective Sonchai Jitpleecheep and the dark Bangkok night – while Bangkok Haunts isn’t as strong previous entries, it’s not a book to pass by.

When Max Mingus gets offered a multimillion-dollar bounty to find the missing five year-old-son of a powerful white Haitian family, he wants to stay no. Sure, he was the best in Miami once. But that was before he served time for killing a pair of junkie child murderers. Before he lost his PI license. Before his wife, Sandra, died. Now, he needs the money, and he knows Sandra would have wanted him to find the kid.


But Mingus doesn’t count on the depth of corruption, manipulation and greed Haiti breeds in its inhabitants, a murky evil worse then death that can easily swallow a man - especially a man like Mingus.


Mr. Clarinet has a lot of things going for it: atmosphere and setting are chief among them. When all is said and done it’s going to be from these twin well springs that the novel derives its power. Stone immerses us into a politically volatile country where heroes come from unlikely sources and the conventional infrastructure is non-existent.


Stone will fill us in with details and information about Haiti that is both intimate/personal and much broader in context. We will learn about the history and how thoroughly corrupt its leaders are and have been. We'll learn of its insignificant place on the stage of world politics and its subservient role as a pawn for the US Governments foreign policy. We'll learn of its cultural heritage and its hybrid religion, voudoun. We'll be introduced to its practitioners and its various uses both good and evil. We'll learn of the fundamental distrust and deeply bred hostility that the Haitians feel towards whites.


At one point we will ride shotgun with Mingus as he visits Cite Soleil, a city where the ground is made literally of shit.

That he goes there at all is a testament to his resolve to solve the case, that the place really exists, hammers a small part of the reality of the Haitian situation home.




We will also learn of a myth, a legend, a boogieman who is invoked whenever anything goes wrong especially when it comes to the disappearance of children. It’s this myth that lends its name to the title of the book, Ton Ton Clarinet. Though ostensibly about finding Charlie and those responsible for his kidnapping always lurking just below the surface, waiting to breach, are the origins of the Ton Ton Clarinet myth. Mingus is doled out information from multiple sources of sometimes-questionable credibility. But as he slowly pieces together the puzzle it will become clear that the origins of the myth are far more scary and insidious then the stories of him that haunt the lips of the Haitian poor. The final revelations of the book are shocking in their power and reach.

There are two scenes in Mr. Clarinet that rank among my favorites of the year so far and are worth a brief mention: The Interrogation scene and The Ritual scene. I'll take a closer look at the first scene in a moment but first I’ll give a taste of the second one.




In the Interrogation scene Bangladeshi peace keeping UN troops have gang raped a teenage girl. One of the main characters, a drug baron named Vincent Paul, is at this point responsible for meting out some form of justice because at this time in the countries history, 1997, Haiti has no constitution and by extension no laws. After an intense interrogation Paul decides that it’s fair to use the Bangladeshi law for punishing rapists as the basis for his decision. The result is a sustained intensity that draws its tension from the fact that there is no clear moral high ground in the situation as it’s presented. As you bear witness to this scene your residency in a civilized country weighs heavy on your mind. You know that this type of frontier justice isn’t right but when the full weight of all the details of the crime come out you can’t help but want to see them perish. It’s an interesting moral dynamic that is presented.




One observation that I'd like to share is that while I was reading Mr. Clarinet I was, in the first part of the book, anxious for the story proper to begin and I felt like Stone was trying too hard to introduce Mingus to me. My initial feeling was that some of his background information could have been either withheld or spread out over the course of the novel. I may have even mentally tossed around the word info-dump.


It’s a trade off getting so much information about the main character in the beginning. On one hand it can drag just a bit in places. But on the other hand it’s also immediately evident that the writing is top notch. So even though this was the first novel that I had read by Nick Stone I found myself trusting him. That trust ultimately paid off because in hindsight I see that he quickly and effectively created a three-dimensional character that he then sets loose in the story. Knowing the information about Mingus that we did make all of his future decisions and actions credible and flow along organically with the story. Max Mingus in the end becomes both a character that you know a lot about and someone that you want to know more about. I look forward to future books in the series.


--Brian Lindenmuth

Pearce, an ex-con and Edinburgh hard man who’s still recovering from the recent loss of his mother, is invited by the dysfunctional Baxter family to protect their pregnant sixteen-year-old daughter from her martial-arts-expert husband, Wallace, a man ten years her senior with a penchant for killing family pets. Having found out that the baby’s not his, Wallace has sworn vengeance. Pearce declines the job: He’s no babysitter. But when Wallace kills Pearce’s dog, he goes too far. Now it’s personal.


Revenge is part of the grieving process. But has Pearce finally met his match?


Time to find out who the real hard man is.


Over the course of 8 blood soaked chapters that all take their names from movies, Hard Man unfolds with a savage intensity. The movie titles used will cleverly act as epigraphs for the chapters.


Hard Man is divided pretty clearly into two parts. It’s during the first part that we will be introduced to the Baxter clan and their situation with Wallace. Their opening gambit to scare Wallace fails miserably and they decide to attempt to enlist the help of Pearce. Pearce, a character from Guthrie’s debut novel Two-Way Split, is as the title suggests a hard man. But he is also a man who is, by his very nature, more reactive then proactive so he refuses the job. The full dysfunctionality of the Baxter's will slowly become evident as we witness their machinations to not only get rid of Wallace but to make further attempts to enlist the aid of Pearce.


It will be one of these further attempts that sets into motion the final full throated berserker yell that is the second part.


But before we get to the second part I think that it’s important to note Hard Man's humor. Dark, gallows humor to be sure but humor none the less. Guthrie is a savvy enough writer to pepper his tale with a healthy dosage of humor so that it offsets the violence. It acts as a counter measure that prevents the book from becoming oppressive. It also heightens the tension of the more serious moments. The result is a potent and heady blend of comedy and violence that will have you laughing out loud at times, even if you feel guilty for doing so.


An early scene from the book provides a good example of the humor in Hard Man.

Now for that second part. At some point the narrative goes right over the edge and it’s this final free-for-all, oh-shit-the-brakes-have-been-cut-and-we're-all-going-to-die section that will go down in history as the classic that it is. It really does have to be read to be believed as it becomes a kind of noir passion play.


I don't think that I've read a sustained conclusion to a book as breathtaking as this one in a long time.


The second half also plants Hard Man firmly in the tradition of Grand Guignol. When the whole of the book is considered it becomes clear that Hard Man and the plays of the Grand Guignol have a number of shared traits.


The Grand Guignol theatre specialized in plays that had a grim outlook of the world, an outlook not entirely dissimilar to the one found in Hard Man. They became world renown for their horror plays which utilized realistic special effects and a close proximity of the audience to produce an effect that horrified and compelled the audience to watch. But horror plays weren't the only type shown; in fact an evening at the theatre would find alternating shows of horror and comedy much like the alternating scenes of comedy and violence in Hard Man. The calling card for the style was the climaxes of the horror plays. They were notorious for being over the top in their bloody, outlandishly gruesome and violent depictions; Hard Man's climax is at times all of these. Lastly plays at the Grand Guignol often dealt with an altered state of consciousness that resulted in a loss of control, extreme panic, hallucinations and even insanity. One character in Hard Man is going to experience all of these and be put through the wringer more then any of the others.


In short I feel comfortable calling Hard Man an outstanding piece of crime fiction and a modern Grand Guignol masterpiece.


A quick mention should also be made that there is no attempt made to Americanize the text of Hard Man. The locale and the language are left intact from the UK edition. It's to the publisher’s credit that this was left unchanged.


--Brian Lindenmuth

Ireland, awash in cash and greed, no longer turns to the church for solace or comfort. But the decapitation of Father Joyce in a Galway church horrifies even the most jaded citizen.


Jack Taylor, devastated by the recent trauma of personal loss, has always believed himself to be beyond salvation. But a new job offers a fresh start, and an unexpected partnership makes him hope that his one desperate vision - of family - might yet be fulfilled.

In the beginning of Priest we find Jack Taylor in an asylum. The story picks up as he is starting to come out of his medicated stupor. As he eases into some semblance of his old life he tries to keep from confronting the tragedy that ended The Dramatist and deal with its fallout. For the first time he finds himself completely sober, no drugs, no alcohol, no cigarettes. With those numbing defense mechanisms not in place Jack tries hard to ignore the enormity of his actions. His refusal to directly confront his act lends to the narrative a palpable menace mixed with a strong riptide of violence that threatens to pull him under. Jack will use physical confrontations to release the building pressure but will find no real satisfaction.




We know from previous books that Jack had a dubious relationship at best with his parents, especially his mother. In this book Bruen is going to spend a lot of time analyzing the relationship between fathers and sons. Jack is going to spend some serious time thinking about his own father and more importantly his feelings of longing at wanting to be a father himself. Joseph Campbell frequently described both a midlife crisis and late middle age as "getting to the top of your ladder then realizing it was up against the wrong wall." This description fits Jack well in this book. His twin desires of having a son and being a father are fully materialized when he takes on a partner named Cody. Cody and Jack's relationship will mirror the father/son dynamic so much so that others in town just assume that's what it is. Throughout the course of the book the limits of that relationship will be greatly tested.




Priest is a fantastic entry in the Jack Taylor series that finds these characters at a crossroads. We don't yet know where these characters are heading or what their fates, both collective and individual, will be but as always the journey is interesting.


--Brian Lindenmuth


Side note: I throw this out there as an observation separate from the review. If anyone has any thoughts on the subject then please feel free to leave them in the comments section. While reading Priest I wondered, not for the first time, as to the possibility of Jack being a kleptomaniac. Even though it has never been stated I think that it may be the case based on his actions.

While not breaking any barriers of originality its fast pace, action packed sequences and ultimately likeable characters come together to form a well told and enjoyable tale. When young Kristin Van Dijk and her irascible good ol' boy partner Otis take on the case of a missing heiress to an oil fortune little do they know that the lies, double crosses and bodies are going to start to stack up.

Our missing heiress, Sherry Beasley, is days away from her 18th birthday. On that day her fathers will is to be read. There are people that stand to gain if she does show up to collect her inheritance and those who stand to gain if she were to disappear for good. It would seem that the only people that have treated her decently over the years are Kristin and Otis. Each time that she has run away or disappeared in the past they have been the ones to bring her back.

Baby Shark's Beaumont Blues is the second book to feature the characters of Kristin and Otis. Kristin has had a rough time in life but has a newfound sense of purpose after Otis has gotten her a PI license, a gun permit and made her equal partner in the firm. After the trauma she's been through, which is summarized and alluded to throughout the book, it’s nice to see her start to heal, even if it is through busting heads with a single minded fierceness. Kristin also starts to show some well needed signs of life as she heals and becomes less introverted and more extroverted as she meets a man who treats her right and doesn’t immediately put her on guard.

Otis is Otis and will always be Otis. He is in many cases the uber male for Kristin. He is a