Formal Style

Posted on April 27, 2014 by Robert Downs

Dangerous Illusions by Joseph J. Gabriele
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

The rhythm of DANGEROUS ILLUSIONS felt off to me. Like I was the one playing the drums, instead of Phil Collins up on stage pounding away in front of thousands, bringing The Garden to its knees. The style felt a bit formal, a bit stilted, like Joseph J. Gabriele understands the rules of writing, but he left all of his passion and sensation back at his former place of residence. And when I finished the novel, I found myself shrugging my shoulders and saying, “So what?”

Don’t get me wrong. The man can write. He breathed life into Eliot and Blaire and Yvette and Laura and other individuals that flitted across the stage of this three act play, but I found myself never really fully invested in the outcome. I found myself dropping my eyes in the cheap seats and listening with only one ear. I stared out into the great abyss, and then I promptly averted my gaze.

Even the story felt a bit off at times. Like we’d hit more than a few potholes on some backcountry road and now my wheels were out of alignment. A new set of shocks wasn’t entirely out of the question either. But I kept pressing, kept moving forward in the hope that I was wrong. In the end, though, I don’t think I am.

I wanted to believe in this tale, but I lost my faith somewhere along the road, and I couldn’t figure out a way to bring it back.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

The Voice Kept Me Turning Pages

Posted on April 26, 2014 by Robert Downs

When In Doubt, Add Butter by Beth Harbison
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

What I hope to find (and what will get me to spend my money quicker and invest hours upon hours of my own time) when I pick up a book is one that doesn’t sound like 95 out of 100 books that I pick up and read the first few pages of, a voice that grabs my nose and yanks harder than a semi-truck in the middle of I-95.

WHEN IN DOUBT, ADD BUTTER is such a book, and it managed this feat admirably from the very first sentence of the very first page. “When I was twelve, a fortune-teller at the Herbert Hoover Junior High School carnival said to me: ‘Gemma Craig, you listen to me. Do not get married. Ever. If you do, you’ll end up cooking for a man who’d rather eat at McDonald’s; doing laundry for a man who sweats like a rabid pig, then criticizes you for not turning his T-shirts right side out; and cleaning the bathroom floor after a man whose aim is so bad, he can’t hit a hole the size of a watermelon–’ ” I could go on, but you get the general idea. This is a book that I’m invested in; where I want to know what happens; and that I can’t wait to get to the ending, because like Beth Harbison, the author, I’m going all in. And then it becomes a mad rush to get to the finish line.

For me, this was such a book. The characters and the story line certainly kept my attention, but it was the voice, that voice kept me turning pages as fast as frying butter in a saucepan, and when I reached the end, I felt completely satiated. While this was the first Beth Harbison book I read, I’ll certainly keep my eye out for another one with a voice as fulfilling and unique as this one.

I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.

Open Orifices

Posted on April 25, 2014 by Robert Downs

The Troop by Nick Cutter
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

Reading a book about a guy drinking his own piss would have been easier to swallow than this particular novel. To be clear, this isn’t a bad book. It’s not even a poorly written book. The structure, with letters and interviews and the plot moving forward, kept me on edge, while the slaughtering and stomach-churning antics kept my nausea on red alert. If I could have punctured a hole through my brain without doing any permanent damage, I might have briefly considered the notion, before I permanently discarded in the ocean. If I could have jammed about five thousand volts of electricity through my body without the need for a diaper, it might have been a viable alternative. But in the end, selective amnesia works just fine, and I plan on using it to its fullest.

What disturbed me more than tapeworms exiting through open orifices was there wasn’t a single character that I could stand behind without worrying about taking an elbow to the chin. THE TROOP made me want to march in the opposite direction in a most expeditious manner, and I kept reading through sheer determination and a need to push myself to the limit rather than some impending notion that there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I probably looked away from the page as much as I looked at it.

This tale made me realize that coming up with the absolute worst case scenario and working backwards isn’t necessarily a good thing, especially when the boat was stuck at full speed ahead, and I couldn’t find a way to turn off the engine or drop anchor. I plan on employing a taste tester to consume my food before I do, and if I see any suspicious or slightly pale or slow-talking individuals, I plan on running first and asking questions later.

And if you want to read a review by a reviewer or four who actually knows what the hell he or she’s talking about, you might want to take a gander at what Dan or Trudi or Kelly or Karen has to say on the subject. Since after wiping my brain, I will now consume applesauce, Jell-O, smoothies, and liquid vegetables for the rest of my days.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

A Weakness For Cops

Posted on April 23, 2014 by Robert Downs

Notorious by Allison Brennan
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

Maxine “Max” Revere might have what one could call a strong personality. She knows what she wants, and she’s not afraid to go after it, diving right into the swimming pool. Whether it’s men, or a friend, or a story, or a dead body, she’s not afraid to mess up her manicure. Her strong will could bowl over even the hardest of hearts, and she has one devilish smile to even out the fair trade. And she knows how to dress for all occasions, even if it means she might get a little blood on her clothes.

She may have a weakness for cops, or one might call it an obsession, and she’s rather adept with a pair of handcuffs. While I appreciated her sticky situation, I had trouble with my focus at various points along the way. Max, while intriguing, managed to keep me at a distance throughout much of the story, even while her NOTORIOUS circumstances managed to hold me in suspense and despair.

The cold case concept intrigued me, and her beguiling smile deceived me, and her off-putting attitude caused her a whirlwind of trouble wherever she went, even if she kept her head in the game, and her eyes on the horizon. Making friends might not have been at the top of her list, but she commanded attention and a second glance wherever she managed to turn up next.

Other than Nick Santini, many of the males felt like caricatures, instead of full-bodied versions ready to spring off the page and into my living room. Had the men measured up to the women, it might have provided a bit more balance to the equation, and made it a bit easier to swallow for this particular reader. Not bad writing, or a bad story, mind you, but not a tale that showcases Allison Brennan at her story writing best.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

More Populated State

Posted on April 21, 2014 by Robert Downs

Missing You by Harlan Coben
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I must be one sentimental bastard. While I’d like to say, “I ain’t missing you at all.” I’d be hard-pressed to do it with a straight face. Eighteen years? No problem. But, on the other hand, life’s too short to let that much time pass. Seize the moment. That’s what I always say. Or maybe it was Sigmund or Freud or Siskel or Ebert.

MISSING YOU did have its sentimental moments. But it also contained a rather prominent criminal element, since this novel falls smack dab in the suspense/thriller category. With detectives and captains and bad dudes galore, and at least one bloodbath soaked its way through the printed pages, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better roller-coaster ride. I even managed to get a little soppy on at least one occasion, but shhhh (holds a finger up to my lips), you can’t tell anyone. And when blood made its metallic appearance, I had one of my woo-hoo moments. Probably one of just many reasons why I’d say I’m not necessarily a normal member of society.

That’s also why I probably need to find a slightly more populated state for my twilight years. I’d have to say I’m a bit creeped out to live in isolation, so I’m scratching Wyoming and the Dakotas and Montana off my wish list for the sake of my own sanity. The quiet and the possibility of being a mile or so from my nearest neighbor just doesn’t necessarily give me the same warm feeling that an axe to the jugular does. No, wait, a hug around the neck would probably be more appropriate here.

The plot kept me on the edge of my seat, as the pages flipped with effortless ease, and I ground my teeth to relieve just a bit of the tension. Kat and Dana and Brandon proved a dynamic trio that I could get behind, or in front of, as we headed off into battle, even if I ended up in a rather precarious position. The ending came a bit too soon (although not at the wrong time), but I wanted to continue to dangle on the edge of the plateau staring down at the river below.

Was I satisfied? Yes, Stagger, I believe I’d say I was.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Damn Near Deadly

Posted on April 20, 2014 by Robert Downs

The Informationist by Taylor Stevens
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

She’s a tool. A weapon. Like Jason Bourne or James Bond. Able to blend into her surroundings. She speaks 22 languages, and she’s damn near deadly with a knife. And she’s androgynous. She’s Vanessa Michael Munroe. Or Michael for short.

Revenge might as well be her middle name, though. She reminded me of Lisbeth Salander with the way rage completely consumed her. And yet she still managed to show some heart, or at least her slightly abbreviated version of it. Emotions seemed to fill her, consume her, even as she struck out at the imperfections of this world.

Her ability to seek out, consume, and process information rapidly helped explain the title. Even when she was just traversing through a particular area, it felt as though her brain worked at a higher level than everyone else around her. Almost like a game of dominoes where she already had the perfect plan mapped out in her head.

The Equatorial Guinea setting proved as real and as feral to me as she was, and it was the perfect setting for such an untamed creature. Had THE INFORMATIONIST been set anywhere else, it probably wouldn’t have worked as well as it did.

Kudos to you, Ms. Stevens. Michael is one interesting, intriguing character, and this proved to be one interesting and intriguing read.

Poked Me In The Nose

Posted on April 19, 2014 by Robert Downs

The Deepest Secret by Carla Buckley
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

How far would you go to save your children? For many parents, you don’t even see a line. In your mind, it doesn’t exist. You’d do whatever it takes. Special film for windows, creams, ointments, face masks, friend screening, and neighbor counseling sessions are only the tip of the iceberg. You’d probably shoot out halogen lights with a shotgun from your front porch with a bottle of Jack standing ready by your side. You’d wheedle and cajole and squeeze out one more day, one more month, or one more year for your son or daughter, even if it meant another child or two ended up with the short straw out of the haystack.

Even though the prose poked me in the nose, and the poignant conversations left me feeling complete and fulfilled, I hated every last one of the sons-a-bitches in THE DEEPEST SECRET. From Eve to Tyler to Melissa to David to Charlotte to Holly, I could have punched them individually or as a group, and that still might not have been enough. I’d hoped for a sympathetic character, and instead, I had a slew of misfits and miscreants who might have been better served on The Jerry Springer Show.

It was hard to dig myself out of the funk of despair that permeated throughout the pages, with lies and isolation and deception rising up from the blackness and wrapping around my neck. There’s talent at work here—I have no doubt—but I need a character that I can stand behind without worrying about taking an elbow to the chin.

On a totally unrelated note, I’d have to say the following was my favorite line of the entire novel: “The Steelers rolled over the Eagles.” Had this been discussed in a bit more detail, I might have found myself rising up out of the muck, even if it was only briefly.

I received this ARC for free at Bouchercon.

A Slow Burn

Posted on April 19, 2014 by Robert Downs

A Cold Day For Murder by Dana Stabenow
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I admit I like free shit. I also admit I’m not entirely rational in my thought process. For example, I happily hand over my Bouchercon and Left Coast Crime Conference fees and feel like I’ve won the lottery when I receive a bag filled with books. Seriously, this ends up being one of the major highlights of these conferences. So in my continued pursuit of this high, minus the conference fees, I have decided to scour Amazon for the best free short stories and books available. With that being said, let’s get to the review.

The beginning of A COLD DAY FOR MURDER reminded me of a tall sequoia, as I stood on the uppermost branches, staring out at a picturesque world, before I slipped and then smacked every branch on the way down. Even though I’ve never been to Alaska, I feel like I could paint a picture of its vast wilderness and attractive scenery and include a few interesting characters to boot, if I should so desire. Several of the chapters began with multiple pages of description, the text coming to life right before my eyes, springing forth like a cactus in the desert.

It wasn’t until I was about 36% through this tale on my Kindle (this transfers to roughly 71 pages into the print edition) before the mystery really took hold and took off. Had it not been for some lovely description and Kate’s straightforward, no-holds-barred mentality, I might have given up on this novel earlier. As it stands, though, I was rather glad I pushed through. Even though Kate isn’t the most likeable character, I really enjoyed her toughness and even found her abrasiveness rather amusing most of the time. She’s a character with some rough edges that I’m sure will get smoothed out in one of her later adventures.

As for the other characters, none are as fleshed out as Kate Shugak, but all showed signs of life and enough enthusiasm for further tales. The mystery proved interesting and engaging, but at times it felt like it took a backseat to the characters and the scenery. In the end, though, this was an enjoyable read from the first page to the last, it all fit together perfectly, and I look forward to catching up on more of Kate’s exploits.

Check My Tongue

Posted on April 17, 2014 by Robert Downs

The Fever: A Novel by Megan Abbott
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

If it weren’t for Kemper and Dan, I might have never heard of Megan Abbott. And had I not heard of her and went through life aimlessly lacking direction and motivation and reading material, I might have had to kill myself. That would have resulted in a serious shit storm that would have blown the universe to smithereens, and thereby reducing the otherwise wonderful and happy-go-lucky world into the next apocalypse. Yeah, kind of like a Megan Abbott novel. Don’t let her small height and cherubic features deceive you, she’s one cold-hearted bitch. But if you have any sense, you love her anyway. Because she’s that cool. I mean, she’s like the latest reality star, only she actually has sense and a brain and can actually form a coherent sentence. And not just one, mind you, an entire novel filled with coherent sentences that make me want to swoon with lust-filled envy, right after I pull the knives out of my back and thigh, and practice my duck and cover maneuver, so that I actually live to see my next birthday and my wife and unicorns and rainbows and peace signs.

Even sitting in the same room with her, her coolness reaches your level, after it drops from the rafters, and basks you in warmth and smiles. But you don’t smile while reading a Megan Abbott novel, if you know what’s good for you, and you don’t turn your back on it either. You run through that gauntlet like there’s a rattlesnake that’s about to devour your skinny ass, and you crash through the nearest brick wall you can find, even if it results in a knot the size of Wyoming and thirty-seven stitches.

And if I had any sense whatsoever, I’d probably avoid writing the below review, because of all the greatness that has come before me. But I need to have my head examined, and until then, I’m under the distinct impression that I’m somehow a contributing member of society. So…here we go.

THE FEVER made me want to check my tongue in the mirror, swallow a round of medicine, and turn in early for possibly the rest of my life. But, on the other hand, I finished the novel, and found myself wanting. Wanting more story, more character, and more straight evilness, even if the high school depicted in these pages made me want to pull the fire alarm and run for the nearest exit. And even if I finished said novel in rapid fashion with no real time to slow down and smell a few dandelions.

Sure, Ms. Abbott has some serious writing chops, and her credentials could make even the most brazen teenager blush, but I just can’t seem to help myself in my pursuit of excellence. The funk is most likely my own, and I blame the greatness that has blazed the path before me for my sudden hard right turn into the nearest ditch, as I look to cop a feel in the front passenger seat of my motor vehicle with a woman dressed in a miniskirt and pom-poms and a smile white enough for the TV.

The prose sung, the dialogue had punch and direction, and yet I still wanted more. Maybe I need to have my head examined, and possibly the only cure is to read more Megan Abbott. So I’ll have to take a note and make that a priority. So I can learn the error of my ways. As for you, my fellow reader, you may want to read Queenpin and Dare Me, like stat, because those two novels are seriously fucked up in an absolutely wonderful way.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Book Crack

Posted on April 12, 2014 by Robert Downs

Backstage Pass by Olivia Cunning
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

When your wife’s away, it’s nice to read about somebody getting laid. BACKSTAGE PASS, however, takes the term Boy Band Ass to a whole new level commensurate with flashing lights and gleaming beacons and beautiful girls in black lace bras and thongs. If that’s not enough to get your mojo running, there’s also a Human Sexuality professor who not only heightens the overall sexual experience to a mind-boggling level, she’s got the body of a porn star.

Had I read this book in my teens, I’d have probably dropped out of school to become a rock star, even though I’m devoid of all rhythm, can’t carry a tune to save my life, and have no inkling of any musical talent whatsoever. But the fans, man. The fans. You might have to play a few dive bars in a few dive towns and sleep on a couch and drink directly from a faucet and pee in the bushes when the neighbors aren’t looking, but that’s a sacrifice many a man would indeed make. Because the girls are young and uninhibited and filled with lust and love and starry-eyes and butts that could stand up to Jennifer Lopez.

The makeup might be a bit too thick and the eyes a bit too black and the skirts a bit too short, but that’s all just a part of the wonderful, inebriated experience. I’d have to say that this book might indeed be filled with crack, or some other illegal substance. Because the writing made me laugh out loud at times, the dialogue had a serious aftertaste and more than a little cringe to it, the plot lacked a certain amount of sophistication, and the characters felt a bit too stereotypical and one-dimensional. But I seriously couldn’t stop reading. I mean, seriously.

This might as well have been book porn, as the porn factor seeped through the pages and into my living room. It had the trademark bad dialogue, a lack of plot, and characters who probably needed a Happy Meal and a brain transplant (other than the sexually liberating professor). I had this entire list of things to do today. But none of that particularly mattered, as I read onward and upward with a glazed look in my eye and my mouth hung at a slight angle, as I waited with bated breath for the next scene to pound away at my senses. And I might have even stood up and cheered if I wasn’t already glued to my seat.

When I need some more book crack or book porn, I’ll tear off another jacket or miniskirt and hold on tight for the wild ride. In the meantime, I plan to get as far away from romance novels as possible for the foreseeable future, otherwise there’s a more than good chance I’ll spontaneously combust, and my wife will be picking herself up from the airport.