Blue 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.

Monday’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.

The Butcher by Jennifer Hillier
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

On the one hand, I could give this book a scathing review, clap my hands together and walk away; on the other, I could do a bit more analysis, delve a bit deeper than its rusty surface, and throw in a few psychobabble terms for my handful of diligent readers out there. Let’s see, I think we’ll go with Option B, Alex, and let’s make it for $600, just to make things interesting. And…here…we…go.

More than a few reviewers have been less than generous, and if I could offer up a deduction, I’d say it stems from the following sentence: “A thriller with taut, fast-paced suspense, and twists around every corner, The Butcher will keep you guessing until the bitter, bloody end.” This, unfortunately, does not do Jennifer Hillier any favors, as THE BUTCHER is not that type of novel. To be perfectly blunt about it, another publisher has fucked an author in the ass. If I were king for a day, I’d probably fire more than one marketing department, and send them back to school for their MBAs. Because we certainly didn’t learn that shit in any marketing class I ever took. But in my experience, most publishers are experts in publishing, not marketing, and yes there is separation of church and state, at least in this case. Sorry, the chopper interrupted my train of thought. Let’s move on, shall we?

Instead of taking a cleaver to this tale, I actually was rather happy to bump and bounce along through the streets of Seattle with Pike Place firmly etched in my rearview. Sure, the characters might have been a bit one-dimensional—Matt and Edward were certainly no exception—but that was all part of the experience. Sam, on the other hand, proved a tad more interesting, at least in my estimation. Even though the killer is revealed in the first 30 pages, the real fun is in seeing how it all goes down on the playground, and what will await us at the end of our journey.

With a clipped pace and bodies stacking up to the left and right, I found myself rushing forward with both hands in front of my face to swat away errant limbs and branches. And, yes, you have to be of a particular persuasion to enjoy this tale, since it covers sunny topics like rape and incest and murder.

So, yes, we can castrate the author or the novel for what it isn’t based on the last paragraph in the description, or you can expunge that last sentence from your brain (as I did) and focus on what this particular novel is. If you can reach a separation of church and state, then you may have found yourself a winner.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.