Second Tier

20980959Blue Labyrinth (Pendergast, #14) by Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

If you want to read a high octane novel, and discover where the bodies are buried, and the long dead secrets on a familial history with more quirks and twists and turns than your typical thriller, then BLUE LABYRINTH is for you. If you want an agent that’s at the top of his game, and you want a cast of secondary characters that will stretch the limits of your imagination, then this novel is for you. But if you want to read a great Pendergast novel, where the dialogue flows crisp and clean and this is your first turn on the merry-go-round with Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, I would start at an earlier point in the series.

This dynamic co-author duo didn’t phone it in from afar, but it didn’t feel like they brought their A game. Sure, their B+ game is better than many an up and coming and already established author, but I’ve seen the top of the mountain, and I’m not settling for a spot on the second tier.

The secrets and history were great, and I did feel as though I was in the middle of a maze, and I had no idea what sort of friend or foe would end up in my path next. But I didn’t feel the mad rush to the finish line that I like to experience with a typical Preston & Child novel. Maybe it was because I was in a dark place when I attempted to read this particular tale, and the harsh reality experienced between these pages only added to my melancholy state, but I’d still like to believe that a great novel can take me anywhere. With this tale, I didn’t get that.

The plot moved as quickly as a 1 ½ mile race, but the dialogue felt static and forced at times, and I began to wonder if I had been left on the wrong dock in the wrong town staring up at a boat pointed in the opposite direction. With that being said, you could do a whole lot worse than BLUE LABYRINTH, but I feel like you could do better as well.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Make Fun Of Yourself

18115294This Song Will Save Your Life by Leila Sales
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

If you were ever a dweeb, a nerd, a geek, an outcast, or a teacher’s pet, and you struck out swinging in the popularity contest, then THIS SONG WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE is for you. I never struck out swinging, because I wasn’t even invited to the baseball diamond, and I probably wasn’t even in the same zip code. I didn’t raise my hand, or climb the social ladder, or attempt to end my life, but I do know rather well what it feels like to hover outside the norm. Hell, I’ve taken up residence in that state and built a house on a cement foundation, to the point that I need fictional authenticity and an optimism filled IV just to make it through reality. Luckily, I have a treasure trove filled with books and music and movies and pixie dust to fill my world from one moment to the next.

Elise Dembowski might have discovered music at the same time she discovered pessimism, but I don’t think it’s fair to judge her as a teenager filled with negativity. Frankly, being a teenager sucks. Being filled with hormones and testosterone and awkwardness and secret codes and tile-filled hallways and compact classrooms and having doubts about the rest of your life is not exactly a world where the pixie dust flows freely. And when you struggle to fit in, because you don’t know the secret handshake, or you’re ahead of your time, or you have a knack for saying and doing the wrong thing, life sucks just a little bit more. The cool kids ensure you know just where you stand, and most of the time it’s with your head hung low and hovering over the rim of a toilet bowl.

It’s a good thing Al Gore didn’t invent the Internet until I had come along in years, and Facebook and social networking weren’t around when it all went down on the playground. I’d like to think I could have handled the cyberbullying and negativity and trolls and gnomes in my younger years, but the truth is I don’t know if I was as strong then as I am now. Inner strength and thick skin aren’t gifts; they’re earned through hard work and maturity and offering up the second cheek when the first one just won’t do.

When you can make fun of yourself, it’s hard for anyone else to rattle your chain, and when you smile and whistle and wink and just walk on by…well, that’s the greatest revenge of all. That, my friends, is both long-lasting and gratifying.

If you want to read a much more articulate and fulfilling review, you should check out what Emily May has to offer the world. I hope her story moves you as much as it did me. As for me, I’ll put my iTunes on repeat and see what pops up next.

Accentuate The Positive

20640318The Girl In 6E by Alessandra Torre
My Rating: 5/5 Stars

This little bastard is the reason I cannot definitively say MONDAY’S LIE is the best book I’ve read this year. However, I am fairly confident that I have discovered the top two books I will read in 2015…with approximately 10.5 months of the year left. Then again, my crystal ball has failed me before, so you never know.

But I will power through my early year euphoria, and discover the world of mediocrity. Okay, okay, it probably won’t be that bad. But I have trouble with the concept of lightning striking me three times, mainly because I don’t want to end up on the operating table with a pile of drool beside me during my darkest days.

Rather than focus on the negative, let’s accentuate the positive. Deanna Madden is a badass. Sure, she may decorate her spare bedroom in pink, set up multiple webcams, craft her hair in pigtails, and work her clit for all she’s worth with horny men typing heavily on the other end, but this girl has style, when she decides to put on the occasional pair of clothes. She has a certain self-awareness that I found attractive and intriguing. She didn’t pull any punches when it came to her descriptions of the webcam world, and frankly, I found it all a bit fascinating. But I like to learn, and I had my eyes opened wide.

It ain’t exactly erotica, though. In some ways novel classification can be a disservice, when we’re talking genre-bending reads, and THE GIRL IN 6E certainly fits the bill. If you’re looking for erotica, or in this case erotic suspense, and you have domination on the brain, or romance, or happy endings (and yes the double entendre was on purpose for the love of popsicle sticks), then you’ll probably be disappointed at what this little gem has to offer the world.

If that’s the case, though, then you’re missing out on one hell of a pleasure cruise. I plan to start mine with Sex on the Beach (double entendre) and a trip to Iceland where I can cool off.

A Slight Infatuation

22609607Monday’s Lie by Jamie Mason
My Rating: 5/5 Stars

I’m developing a slight infatuation for a woman named Jamie Mason. And, no, you can’t have her, I saw her first. This might be the best novel I’ve read this year, and every last one of you bastards should go out and read it for yourselves. Why? You might ask. Well, if you’re not just going to take me at my word and stop at third, then let’s delve a little deeper, shall we. Each word felt as though it was handcrafted and mulled over for hours. If that’s the case, then I’m probably going to cry a little, because that means I’m going to have to wait ten years until her next masterpiece, and in the meantime the market is going to be flooded with plenty of crap, unless she started her novel writing days at puberty, and in that case, I may only have to wait a couple more years while she gives her next work a bit more polish and shine and then ceremoniously flings it upon the world with much pomp and circumstance and even a few trumpets and trombones. And if that’s indeed the case, I shall cry a little less.

That’s not enough, you say. You’re all a bunch of heathens. Okay, there’s more. She totally reinvented herself from her debut novel to this one. It’s an entirely different tale filled with entirely different characters in an entirely different setting, and it ratcheted up the suspense with such subtlety and ease that I’d need a Venn diagram to plot it all out, and frankly, I just don’t have the time for plot charts and graphs. But if that’s your thing, then have at it, sister, I won’t stop you.

There is no sophomoric slump. No second novel blues. Instead, she’s painted a world filled with orange and red. MONDAY’S LIE is better than her first by a country mile, and with THREE GRAVES FULL, she really showcased her writing chops, and offered up plenty of talent. But this time she took it to a whole nother level. She proved she’s a novel slinging badass in her DKNY jeans. Ms. Mason, you have fair warning that I am now going to stalk your pretty ass. Not the kind that leads to being led away in handcuffs, but the kind that turns me into a lifelong, loyal reader, or as Stephen King says, “Constant reader.” Where I shall pronounce from the mountaintop at all who I deem worthy to go out and procure a small piece of Jamie Mason for themselves at your nearest bookstore or online establishment. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.

I received this ARC for free at Bouchercon.

Marry The Crazies

16059512Cliff Walk: A Liam Mulligan Novel by Bruce DeSilva
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I can do sarcastic smart-ass all day long. In fact, I want to love it and squeeze it and then kiss it on the forehead. Liam Mulligan may have a tendency to marry the crazies, but he sure does know how to fire off the one-liners. And that worked for me. The man may not walk around with a loaded gun in his pants, but he has a loaded weapon between his lips, and he’s not afraid to use it. Yes, indeed, he shoveled more shit than a circus performer, and he put more than one smile on my face.

CLIFF WALK started out dark, and then it got darker. And when that wasn’t enough, I went out searching for a nightlight and a Snuggie and a glass of warm milk. Speaking of which, Rhode Island is a great place to take the kids and nothing bad ever happens there at all. Except prostitution and newspapers that break faster than a pair of eggs and pornographic films and dead bodies and child pornography…and shit that’s the mailman at the door and he’s wielding a machine gun. “Oh, my God, they found me, I don’t know how, but they found me. Run for it Marty!” Sorry, I had to get that out of my system. Just as I needed to do with this review.

Sure, this book was great, but I think I’m going to need my Snuggie and glass of warm milk for a few more nights.

I received this book for free at Bouchercon.

A Bigger Bone

21457477Paw and Order by Spencer Quinn
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

Chet may be one brilliant bastard (for a dog), but I read this during my darker days where the nights were long and the radiator was cold, and it’s hard to read (or sleep) when you have a flashlight shined in your eyes every half-hour. Sure, the cabin was fun for the first day or so, and I even pretended to like it, but not sleeping gets old really fast.

And so does Chet. Something was amiss, and I don’t think it was the lack of bacon bits. Sure, Suzie Sanchez makes an appearance, and where would Chet be without Bernie by his side, but I just wanted a bigger bone, and more fresh water in my bowl (and not the kind you get out of the toilet either as that’s saved for special occasions).

But even though I missed the smell of bacon and water and more than a few scratches on my belly, I still enjoyed frolicking around inside Chet’s head. The air was crisp and plenty (since it was blowing in my face), and I leaned my head out the window and squirrel and then he was running and I was running and my teeth were smacking and his lips were jabbering and I found myself being yelled at for no apparent reason. And that’s sort of what PAW AND ORDER felt like. It started out as great fun, but I ended up getting scolded in the end.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Life Of A Con

18760674Ignited by  J. Kenner
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

If this hadn’t been my sixth J. Kenner book, I’d probably be loving life a little more than I am right now. What started out as a fun fantasy has turned more than a little crazy. Sure, I’ll freely admit I have a problem and thy name is book smut (aka book porn). When I discovered this little bastard about the time people were talking up Fifty Shades Of Grey like it was the second coming of Playboy, I became more than a little curious. So I dipped my hand in Release Me, and the next thing I knew I had a pair of handcuffs slapped around my wrist. And shit was I hooked. I moved on to Fifty Shades and discovered the writing may not be so hot, but the sex scenes certainly were, and Anastasia Steele may be a twenty-one year old virgin, but she sure as shit didn’t act like any virgin I’d ever met. And then I started actively seeking this shit out, and I discovered (rather happily) that there was plenty of book smut to be had.

And then I got a little carried away…What J. Kenner does rather well is add a layer of depth to her book smut, and she proves she can turn a phrase about as well as her heroines drop their pink underwear. I mean, damn, this might literally heat you up faster than an oil tanker in Alaska. If you want to cozy up next to a fire and be filled with desire and have characters who might be more than just a teenage fantasy, honey have I got an author for you. Men, do yourselves a favor and grab an armful of erotica and run to the nearest available cash register. Trust me, you won’t regret it.

So what went wrong? The life of a con just filled me with all sorts of wrong, and my fantasy bubble was burst. It exploded, and then shattered around me, even as I found myself continuing to turn the pages. Cole and Cat didn’t hit me like that, and I found myself more than a tad disappointed. So one might say, you could blame it on my own expectations. Because I was looking for a peak (a wonderful send-off if you will), and I was left with a valley instead. But what I will say before I go is that I rather enjoyed the way this trilogy focused on a trio of heroes and heroines, instead of ruining a perfectly adequate tale by spreading it over three novels (Fifty Shades I’m talking to you). But then J. Kenner has plenty of talent, along with a wicked imagination. And she’d probably make one hell of a librarian.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Clean And Sharp

19412928Baby Moll by John Farris
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

Dammit, I can’t really remember this novel at all. So what I will say is North Dakota is really green this time of year. No, that’s not right either. If there are excess words to be found in the English language, you probably won’t find them within the confines of BABY MOLL. This novel punched me in the gut, and then it kept on swinging even after I had already hit the ground. But that’s what I love about Hard Case Crime novels. Those beautiful bastards rip out your insides, and then staple them to your forehead.

The dialogue is clean and sharp; the characters have discovered more than a few problems; the action has a brutish quality; and there’s a clear distinction between the good guys and the bad guys (and no it’s not the white hats). The women often remind me of pin-up models, and I can devour a Hard Case Crime novel in approximately two hours and fifty-nine minutes. If life gets better than this, then I’d like to see it, because that probably means there’s a pot of gold with my name on it, or a mob boss ready to shove a hand grenade up my keister. These days, one can never really tell.

Sons Of Anarchy

18769649Ice Shear by M.P. Cooley
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

Now that I have made my break from Bismarck, ND, I can once again write reviews of my own volition. It’s much easier to let the creative juices flow when you are no longer chained to a radiator. Anyway…M.P. Cooley knows her small towns and she knows her cops, but pages and plots filled with motorcycles and biker gangs turned me off a tad. Needless to say, my redneck status has been revoked by the great state of Mississippi.

But the picture she did in fact paint of Small Town USA made me wish I had enjoyed it more than I did. But I cannot stop the demented demon, as he often has a mind of his own. And maybe I might have enjoyed the meth lab a tad, if I didn’t have such a clear image of Breaking Bad in my rearview mirror. Or maybe I should be shunned by the great state of New York, have toothpicks jammed in my eyes, shoved in front of a television, and have Sons of Anarchy reruns shoved down my gullet.

The pages did not move at a breakneck speed, and I did not experience even the slightest hint of a wow factor. But that could just be me. I can never really tell these days, and once the nightmares cease (No, not the knife!), I may be able to offer a more coherent interpretation.

I received this book for free at Left Coast Crime.

Where Have All The Opinions Gone

“Opinions are like assholes; everybody has one.” My dad, who always has a way with words, often uttered this in my direction from the time I was old enough to understand what he meant. Let’s take a few minutes and actually dissect this sentence, since there are plenty of lessons to be learned here. First, let me back up a minute, and say I’ve been on both sides of this issue, as an author and a reviewer, and it’s never fun to be threatened within an inch of your life, told you have hamster-sized genitala, and that your opinion is invalid simply because it’s not in 100% agreement with the opinion of someone else. For those of you marching to the beat of the opinion police, I have three words in response: Fuck. That. Shit. If you can’t have a nice calm discussion with a reviewer, then don’t have a discussion at all. Nobody’s forcing you to provide your two cents, and nobody’s forcing you sons-of-hamsters to start an Internet Holy War complete with battering rams and pitchforks. No good can come from it, except death and destruction.

This brings me to another point: You can’t argue with stupid. When you do, that just makes two of you. If you want to piss and moan and dismember a person’s life just because of a review, then frankly, my friend, you have more time on your hands than I do. Which leads me to another point: If your life is so insignificant that you simply troll the Internet to accost unsuspecting souls for what you believe to be the greater good of society and to somehow prove that you’re one righteous, motherfucking bastard, then you probably need to find something better to do with your time. Like right now. As in immediately.

And if you do happen to be a stupid asshole, and you believe you were given some divine authority by God, the devil, your mother, or Jesus Christ himself to police the Internet, you may want to stop, pause, lather, and get over yourself. Because here’s a little secret: You weren’t given the power and authority to bitch slap whoever the hell you want just for your own entertainment. Just close your mouth and crabwalk away as fast as you can, because once you castrate yourself or someone else, those words stay out on the Internet. Like forever.