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.

Conflicted Individual

Posted on April 12, 2014 by Robert Downs

Debbie Doesn’t Do It Anymore: A Novel by Walter Mosley
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

Debbie may not do it anymore, but she was pretty damn good at it when she did it. She started out giving fifteen dollar blowjobs in her teens, living a life on the streets, and in the passenger seat of the latest motor vehicle, and offering up her own piece of heaven to the casual male observer who just happened to park his car in the parking lot and beckon her over. Her long platinum blond hair and crystal blue eyes along with the tattoo under her eye became her trademark in an industry filled with thousands of boobs and genitalia. It certainly didn’t hurt her reputation that she could handle approximately four guys at once, and still leave the poor bastards begging for more. And her hundreds of films along with her trademark looks made her instantly recognizable to many men over the age of eighteen, and possibly a few who slipped under the radar.

Losing her fornicating husband to a hot tub electrocution while he pounded away at the next wannabe starlet managed to slow her down just a bit. But in the end it wasn’t too much. Instead, she’s a woman on a mission, and that mission is to move on with her life, and leave her waxed past firmly in her rearview mirror.

Debbie Dare/Sandra Peel might have been one of the most conflicted individuals I have ever had the pleasure of meeting over the course of a novel. She was raw and uninhibited and passionate and suicidal and conflicted and emotional and overflowing with turmoil and grief. But the way she stepped across the page with naked and unadulterated ambition, pretty much telling the world they can either pay attention or not, and that either way she doesn’t really give a fuck made me love her all that much more.

She may have had the greatest orgasm of her life on her last porn shoot before the instant and dramatic change in her existence, but I must say I had a rather enjoyable (certainly not the greatest) reading experience, as I pounded my way through DEBBIE DOESN’T DO IT ANYMORE with something resembling a reckless abandon and a burning need and desire to find out what would happen next.

Oh, and for those of you who are certainly going to make the comment “This ain’t no Easy Rawlins novel” and then be proud of yourself for your profound and bold statement. I’d just like to take a moment and say that it’s not that profound and certainly not that bold, and that each book should be judged individually and stand on its own merit. If it doesn’t work great, or if it does great, but to make that particular comment isn’t really making a statement at all. And this is one book that should certainly be celebrated for the statement it does make.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Suck My Soul

Posted on April 11, 2014 by Robert Downs

Second Grave On The Left by Darynda Jones
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

If you’re packing a pair of DDs beneath your peek-a-boo blouse, you may want to keep the following in mind: “With great breasts comes great responsibility.” Or so says a t-shirt. That I briefly considered acquiring simply for the amusement factor alone. Maybe I could get my wife to wear it. Although there’s a more than good chance she probably won’t find it nearly amusing as I did. Just as I’m convinced some of you (and I can’t imagine why) won’t find SECOND GRAVE ON THE LEFT nearly as amusing as I did. And if you don’t—let’s get this out of the way right now—I’m sorry but I can’t help you. Because this is some highly entertaining shit. I mean, the voice and zingers and main character are more than worth the price of admission, and I just happen to have a stack of ones at the ready.

When I die and float up to the big house in the sky, I want to pass through Charley Davidson, the hottest grim reaper in seven continents. She has a mouth on her, doesn’t like mornings, is as stubborn as a loan shark chasing after a man with a gambling addiction, and may, or may not, have somewhat questionable taste in men, but she’s got a juicy ass and a seriously enlarged chest area. If you’re a guy, it kind of makes you want to cry (in a good way). At least if you’re into that sort of thing. Which for the record, I’m going to go ahead and say it right now “I like curves, damn it!”

It’s really hard to say if I liked the story as much as the first one. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say probably not. It just seemed a bit too contrived to me, but crap on a cracker, Charley’s welcome in my world anytime she wants to stop by for a visit. Given the right temptation, I’d probably even let her suck my soul from my body with a straw. Who knows? I may not even need it anyway. And if I do, I can tell the big boss “Woo-eee, I had one hell of a ride!”

And that, my friends, is probably the best way I could ever possibly sum up this novel. I can’t wait to come on back for the third installment. I’m thinking I’ll need a fix again real soon.

Even Steven

Posted on April 11, 2014 by Robert Downs

A Life In Men by Gina Frangello
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

I’d have to say I’m not really used to A LIFE IN MEN, unless we’re sitting around discussing football, or Breaking Bad, or Kansas being whacked from the NCAA Tournament. But you’ve gotta start somewhere, and I rather enjoy usurping the occasional insight about the fairer, more complicated sex. The ones who really do make life worth living, even if I’m occasionally left in the dark, sleeping on the sofa, or forced to change my wardrobe for the second time that day.

You see, men like to think we’re in charge, but smart men know the real story. We’re only in charge if our wives grant us knighthood, but again, the smart ones don’t complain too much, because we know the benefits are normally pretty good. This novel certainly had its share of benefits, but it felt more like a mixed bag for me. On the one hand, the language nearly caused me to drift off, floating freely in the otherwise complicated universe, as my hand darted around my face, the characters felt lifelike and real and complicated and motivated. On the other hand, I managed to lose myself a time or two over the course of this tale, I had trouble completing the race, and I nearly stumbled my way toward the finish line.

But I wanted to like it. The realness of it all left me more than a little depressed, as I slammed my fist against my chest, and contemplated the difficulties of being a woman. Which tended to scare the hell out of me just a bit, if we’re being perfectly honest here. Because with women, even friendships are extremely complicated, and let’s face it, my brain just doesn’t work that way. I like simplicity, and in fact, there are times I even crave it like crack or chocolate or copulation.

What made this story a bit difficult for me to follow was the timeline at times. Maybe I’m just a simple man, but I tend to appreciate a more linear flow to my tale. If you don’t need it, or want it, you’ll probably be a bit happier with this story than I was. And that’s okay. We don’t have to agree on everything, but it’d be nice if we could agree once in a while. As for the rating, we’ll call it Even Steven, and we’ll both move on with our lives.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

The Past Attacked

Posted on April 3, 2014 by Robert Downs

The Lost (Celestial Blues, #2) by Vicki Pettersson
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

While Kit and Grif still had plenty of appeal and charm and various other pleasantries, I found myself a bit lost with this particular read. Sure, the hard-boiledness still captured and held my attention, and sure, the story moved along at a rather reasonable clip, but I found my mind drifting toward the nether regions, and my heart didn’t miss a single beat. A nurse may have visited me while I was counting ceiling tiles, and I may, or may not, have had an IV injected in my arm, somehow improving my overall well-being.

The past may have attacked my faded blue jeans, and my hat may have been tilted just a bit to the side, as I tipped it in the direction of the skirts and blue-eyed wonders that happened to cross my path. THE LOST left me a bit red in the face, and more than once I was forced to consult the map on my passenger seat. I probably missed a turn or two, but I was certainly happy when I reached my final destination.

The mystery certainly intrigued me, but it wasn’t a perfect logical leap from the first tale, and it wavered a bit during various increments along the way. I found my attention vacillating and my car swaying as I took more than a few turns too sharply. Blinking a bit too rapidly, I propelled myself into a ditch, since I didn’t have Griffin Shaw to show me the way.

Kit came alive in this novel after a bit of a slumber in the first go round, but it wasn’t enough for me to rate this novel higher. Maybe it was my place in the universe, or my sense of self, or I might have gotten just a bit spoiled after I first dipped my toes in the swimming pool, but I’m a bit sad to admit I didn’t like this one better. A part of me feels as though I’ve somehow failed this book, but with the curveball headed my way, I’ll probably take one more last swing for the fences and hope I don’t spin myself around and tumble to the ground.