Author: Werner Lind

Mr. and Mrs. Smith, by Cathy East Dubowski

  By

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆☆

This book is the official novelization of the 2005 movie of the same name, starring Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. I don’t share the idea that movie novelizations are by definition trash, devoid of any possible literary quality. Like movies based on books, they take a work in one art form and endeavor to translate it (hopefully faithfully!) into a different one. Whichever direction the translation goes in, it requires genuine artistry to do well; IMO, either way, it has the potential of creating something worth watching or reading, and even something that’s seriously good artistically. Each attempt ought to be judged individually, on its own merits.

That said, in this case, neither the original movie nor its novelization are ever likely to be viewed by many people as stellar achievements in either of their respective forms. I thought that the film had significant gaps in logic, which I hoped the novelization might address. In fact, it doesn’t; the plot holes, logical problems and murky areas in the original are as glaring, illogical and murky here. That’s the primary reason that my rating for this book isn’t higher.

As most readers will know going in (and the cover copy will tell you that much, if you don’t!), our title characters here are both professional assassins. Neither of them knows that fact about the other. As it happens, they work for unnamed organizations, both seemingly U.S.-based (the main setting appears to be New York City), which are hostile to each other for totally unexplained reasons (did I mention “murky?”). They’ve been married 5-6 years (a running gag is that they can’t agree on which), having met in Bogota, where they’d both been sent to carry out hits on various local malefactors. At the time, they were strongly drawn to each other, quickly forming a deep emotional connection, and married after a whirlwind courtship. Since then, however, their marriage has deteriorated to the point that they’re hardly communicating at all, and are just going through the motions, nursing various unexpressed grudges and frustrations. Not far into the book, they’re both assigned by their respective organizations to dispatch the same mark. The resulting confrontation will set the stage for the ensuing developments.

Cathy East Dubowski is a professional writer, who apparently specializes in both YA and grown-up movie novelizations. This is apparently her best-known one (and my only exposure to her work). To her credit, she attempted a fresher approach here than simply re-telling the screenplay in third person. The movie used the frame device of the couple’s visits to a marriage counselor. Here, the author begins the book with the counselor’s notes and transcripts from his initial sessions with the Smiths, both together and separately; the main body of the story is their alternating journal posts which the counselor asked them to write, without necessarily showing the text to anyone else. IMO, this works well; we get inside both their heads, and understand them and their feelings. (One reviewer complained that the technique makes for “repetition,” but I didn’t find this to be a problem. While they’re often describing the same events, their different perceptions of them are very revealing, and as such anything but boring.)

Dubowski follows the movie fairly well (I could spot some minor differences, but though my memory of the film isn’t as sharp now as it was right after watching it seven years ago, I could also recall a good many scenes and lines of dialogue). The main difference is that the bad language in the book is much worse than in the original. There, I don’t recall it as very noticeable (and I would have picked up on that sort of thing), though the PG-13 rating is in part for “brief strong language.” Here, it’s not brief, and there’s a lot of it, including the f-word and religious profanity; I found most of this gratuitous. (Otherwise, the content issues aren’t problematical; there’s implied –actually, stated– sex, some of it premarital, but nothing explicit, and while the violence level is through the roof, it’s not really gory and is so over-the-top it’s hard to take seriously.

The same could be said for both the movie and the book in general.) A lot of plot points aren’t really credible; it’s difficult to go into detail without spoilers, but I didn’t think any of the decisions by the couple’s superiors were believable, Benjamin Danz’s role didn’t logically make sense, and I couldn’t imagine any real-life assassins reacting to the situation of discovering another hitter targeting the same mark the way this pair did. Also, the carnage in the highway chase scene would have resulted in police attention long before it concluded; and I thought the ending was way too pat. The causes of the couple’s estrangement over the years also aren’t really brought out and explained.

Objectively, given all of these shortcomings, in terms of its literary worth the novel doesn’t deserve more than two stars. Three was a gift; but it’s one I’m subjectively willing to give, just because I honestly did like the book, to a degree. The reason I did is for the strength of its depiction of a couple who honestly do love each other, and who are willing to fight both external dangers and their own inner anger and misunderstandings, in order to hang on to and recapture the bond that drew them to each other in the first place. And it’s made clear that a big part of doing that is learning to be honest with each other, to be themselves without playing a role, to communicate and give your entire commitment to the relationship. That aspect of the book, even though the story is told with a significant leaven of humor, is in itself as serious as can be, and applies to all marriages, whether the partners both happen to be contract assassins or not. And despite their faults, I had the sense that both main characters were essentially decent human beings, whom I did care about and want to see succeed in their married life.

Author: Cathy East Dubowski
Publisher: Harper; available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Last Day in Limbo, by Peter O’Donnell

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

Although this is the eighth book in the author’s trail-blazing (at the time it was written, action-oriented heroines were nowhere near as numerous in fiction as they are now) series, it’s the third that I’ve read. (Long story!) It was published in 1976; but in terms of the series’ internal chronology, just a few years have passed since the series opener. So in the book, it would still be the late 1960s, and protagonist Modesty is now about 28 years old. As is often the case, I would advise readers NOT to read the cover blurb. IMO, it discloses way too much information that’s better learned as O’Donnell chooses to gradually unfold it.

When the tale opens, we find Modesty and one of her (to use a contemporary term) “friends with benefits,” multimillionaire tycoon John Dall, enjoying a white-water canoeing excursion in the remote wilds of the Rocky Mountains, accompanied only by a 60-year-old Indian guide. It’s indicated that Dall would be glad to have a more committed relationship; but while Modesty has a lot of admirable qualities and makes a devoted friend, her hellish formative years left her with too damaged a psyche for committed romantic love. O’Donnell never made that any part of her character arc, so readers shouldn’t approach the books with that expectation (or hope!). Barely two pages into the story, though, their idyll is rudely interrupted by the appearance, seemingly out of nowhere, of two gun-toting thugs, who take the couple prisoner after brutally murdering their guide. This begins an adventure that will take us to more than one locale, but principally to the dense (and deftly-evoked) jungles of Guatemala, and which will involve mortal danger, intense mental and physical challenges, and a high body count.

An obvious question readers might ask is, does reading this out of order result in “spoilers” for the earlier books? I would say no, because Modesty’s adventures are each episodic and self-contained; and she and sidekick Willie don’t significantly change, either in their life circumstances or in terms of character growth. Some characters here do appear in earlier books: Sir Gerald Tarrant, for instance, is already introduced in the first book, and Steve and Dinah Collier are in the story A Perfect Night to Break Your Neck, included in the story collection Pieces of Modesty (which I did read previously), though that’s not their first appearance in the canon. The madman who calls himself (and actually believes that he is!) “Lucifer” is, I’m guessing, the title character of the third novel, I, Lucifer, and both Dall and British spy Maude Tiller have also apparently shown up before.

But while having read about them earlier would make them more familiar, all of these were depicted here with enough clarity and depth that I felt I knew them fully well as people. And while occasional references are made to previous adventures, the significance is explained in each case, and for me the effect was simply to whet curiosity, not spoil it. (Of course, it’s clear that Modesty emerged from these triumphant; but that’s a “spoiler” only if you don’t grasp the idea of the word “series….” :-) ) I’d recommend reading the first book before this one, to get a basic idea of who Modesty is, what her early life was like, and the Modesty-Willie dynamic; but otherwise, I don’t think it’s essential to read the earlier books first.

In terms of style and literary vision, this book felt, to me, very much of a piece with the two I’d read earlier. While he doesn’t write with the elaborate diction of his 18th-century Romantic predecessors, O’Donnell’s solidly in their literary camp with his use of exotic locales, extreme situations, and above all, frank appeals to the whole range of readers’ emotions. (In one revealing exchange, Dall tells Modesty she’s a “romantic,” whereupon she replies, “Of course I’m a romantic, dum-dum! And proud of it. There’s not enough of it about these days.”) His plotting is taut and well-constructed, with a good deal of suspense, a steady pace interspersed with frequent jeopardies and vivid action scenes. Modesty has to display her planning acuity and ingenuity as well as her fighting skill; and surviving and taking down the baddies here won’t be a cake-walk, since while she’s highly competent and a born leader, she’s not Superwoman. On the contrary, she’s very much a flesh-and-blood woman, who can bleed and cry (though she doesn’t like to do the latter in front of others); and she’ll do both before we close the book.

In contrast to the cynicism of much modern literature, despite the gritty milieu we find ourselves in here, O’Donnell’s vision is a solidly moral one. Our heroine (and Modesty is a heroine, not an anti-heroine) is pitted against villains who are radically evil, and while she, Willie and their friends have foibles, they basically have a solid and instinctive orientation towards the good. And O’Donnell knows that the basic dividing line between the two separates those who care about others and try to treat them decently, vs. those who care only about self and consider all other humans as things to be used. The author’s social message here isn’t loudly delivered; but we do get a clear look at both the misery the downtrodden in the Third World have suffered (and still do), and the reality that a fixation on vengeance rather than justice can make the oppressed a mirror image of the oppressors.

Content issues here aren’t too problematic, given the literary genre that this is. There’s some swearing and religious profanity (but no obscenity). There are no sex scenes, but there is reference to sexual activity, and it’s made clear that two of the principal villains are into kinky sex that involves inflicting extreme humiliation on women (though O’Donnell spares us any specifics). That such behavior exists in the world should (and does!) offend every decent human; that it’s depicted at all in a book will offend some readers. In the author’s defense on that score, I would say only that a mentality which freaks out on wielding power over other humans is realistically apt to also be reflected in warped sexuality; it warps every aspect of the personality. The language and sexual attitudes/behavior of most of the characters here are what would realistically be expected of secular folk who move in these kinds of circles. Indeed, while some readers would roll their eyes over using the term here, because of the unusual and extreme situation (“unusual,” though, is not the same thing as “impossible!”), I would say that O”Donnell depicts a wide range of life-like characters with very convincing realism, and that his characterizations are a strong point of the series.

Again, I’d recommend reading the series opener before reading this installment; but otherwise, I’d have no hesitation in recommending it to any reader who enjoyed the first book.

Author: Peter O’Donnell
Publisher: Souvenir Press; available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

To Love a Viking, by Heather Day Gilbert and Jen Cudmore

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

Heather Day Gilbert (who’s also a Goodreads friend, and one of my favorite writers) earned high marks from me with her earlier Vikings of the New World duology. Here, she teams up with a new-to-me fellow evangelical Christian writer, Jen Cudmore, to deliver another solid work of historical fiction (the opening volume in a projected series) set in the same era. My trade paperback ARC of this novel was generously given to me by Heather herself; no commitment that my review would be favorable was asked for or given.

Our setting here is partly in Viking-ruled northern Scotland (“Caithness”), but mostly in Scandinavia –specifically, in Tavland, a fictional large island west of Norway. (A map of the island is provided, but it has no scale and doesn’t show it in relation to any other body of land. I picture it as about midway between Norway and Iceland, and perhaps about the size of the latter.) Novels set in fictional countries aren’t unheard of (The Prisoner of Zenda comes to mind). In this case, I’d guess the reason for the device is that the authors wanted to be able to depict a Viking polity, but not to have to be bound to the historical personalities or events of any of the actual ones. The time frame is mainly 998-999 A.D. (with a short prologue set in 989). This was a time when Christianity was spreading in the northern lands, but far from universal. So polygamy and concubinage are still legal, as is slavery (and sexual exploitation of slaves). Warfare and violence are common, life expectancy can be short, and women are under a yoke of patriarchy –though in some ways it’s not as heavy a yoke as it is in the more “civilized” lands of the south in that day.

We have two co-protagonists and primary viewpoint characters here, both young women. Tavland native Ellisif, born into a land-owning family, is about 26 in 998, mother of two little girls, pregnant again, and trapped in an abusive arranged marriage. Somewhat younger at around 20, Inara was born in slavery in the islands north of Scotland, to a now-dead Tavish mother kidnapped into slavery some years earlier. Tall and strong, tough-minded and blessed with some sword skills (long story!), we meet her on the Scottish mainland hiding out from her former master. (We learn the backstory behind that only gradually.) Her goal is to become a warrior. (Although relatively rare, shield-maidens weren’t unknown in Viking society, and could be accepted as such on their merits.) Circumstances are about to bring these ladies’ life-paths together. Their viewpoints are supplemented by those of two Tavish male characters, both single: young jarl (a Viking noble title, cognate with the English “earl”) Dagar, who as a teen was engaged to Ellisif, before her parents died in a accident and her oldest brother got the bright idea of selling her like a cow or a mare to her present husband, and ship-builder and occasional warrior Hakon.

As you’ve no doubt already surmised, yes, this novel does have a romantic component –and, indeed, two romances for the price of one. :-) But it offers more than that, as serious writers know that fiction must if it depicts romantic love as a realistic (and good!) part of the totality of human life; and our two authors here are definitely serious writers. We’re looking here at family life, social relationships, implicit questions of social justice and the relationship of Christian faith to conduct; and we’re also getting a crash course (which sadly is as relevant in 2022 as it was in 998!) in the grim realities of spousal abuse and what is or isn’t a helpful way of dealing with it. (The “Word from the Authors” at the end is constructive in that regard.) Questions of gender roles, and the relationship of career goals vs. family life, are also front-and-center here, and again very relevant.

One thing that quality historical fiction such as this tends to show is that human nature and needs haven’t really changed over the centuries. (In opposition to that idea, it’s often asserted by modern would-be critics, who know little of history, that romantic love was only invented in the 1700s, and was a concept totally unknown and unimaginable before that. Plenty of primary-source evidence exists to belie that claim; it was not only a known concept, but felt by lots of people, then as now. It just wasn’t always as readily taken into account by people making the decisions about marriages then as now –and, as Ellisif and Dagar would tell us, the ones getting married weren’t always the ones making the decision.) And though this is a “romance,” it’s no bodice-ripper.

The quality of the writing here is very good, and the collaboration is seamless; I’ve read and liked several of Heather’s books, but I couldn’t tell any stylistic difference between the various parts of this book to suggest different authorship. Past-tense, third-person narration is used throughout, however, rather than Heather’s characteristic present-tense first person. (I like the one as well as the other, so that was no problem for me.) A textured picture of Viking daily life is presented, clearly based on solid research; but the research isn’t intrusive. Like Norah Lofts, our authors here avoid archaic-sounding diction in their dialogue; there are touches that suggest the setting, but we basically understand that the characters’ Old Norse is translated for us into conventional modern English with an “equivalent effect” (which explains the single use here of “okay” in conversation). References to Christian faith are natural in the circumstances of the story, and not “preachy.” Our Christian characters are Catholics (one minor character is an abbot), but denominational distinctives aren’t much in evidence. (I’d have liked more reference to the development of Inara’s faith, which is actually treated very sketchily.) Directly-described violent action scenes only occur in three places, and aren’t very graphic, but Inara shows her mettle enough to earn her “action heroine” status from me.

As a concluding note, we use “Viking” today as a general term for the ancient and early medieval Nordic inhabitants of Scandinavia, men and women, old and young. In the book, though, it’s used as it was then, as a term for a warrior. (It comes from the verbal form, “to go a-viking,” that is, trading/raiding, as inclination or circumstances dictated, in the lands to the south.) With that understanding, the title has a special meaning that will become apparent by the end of the book. :-)

Authors: Heather Day Gilbert and Jen Cudmore.
Publisher: WoodHaven Press; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Avenging Angels: The Wine of Violence, by A.W. Hart

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆

Like “Franklin W. Dixon” and “Carolyn Keene,” “A. W. Hart” is the house pen name assigned by the publisher to all the various authors of individual books in the series of which this novel is the seventh installment. In this case, though, A. W. is actually my Goodreads friend Charles Gramlich (that’s no secret; he’s credited in the “About the Author” note at the book’s end). Although I’d read and liked a couple of his short e-stories previously, I’d never tried any of his long fiction. So, when I saw this novel mentioned in one of his blog posts last year, I was intrigued enough to buy a copy. (Barb and I read it together, since she’s an avid Western fan, and I knew this would be right up her alley.)

In choosing to read this installment by itself, I guessed correctly that it can be treated as a standalone. The series premise is explained in passing near the beginning, without needing any burdensome long exposition. Just after the end of the Civil War, then 16-year-old twins George Washington (nicknamed “Reno”) and Sara Bass were orphaned when a band of renegade ex-Confederate soldiers raided the family’s Kansas farm and brutally slaughtered their parents and siblings. The twins’ father, a Lutheran pastor as well as a homesteader, had brought the two up as Christians familiar with the Bible, and also trained them both to handle firearms very capably. He lived long enough after the attack to charge his two surviving kids (they’d been out on the prairie when the raiders struck) to avenge the outrage, and to rid the world of murdering evildoers. After serving justice on their family’s killers in the series opener, they went on to become successful bounty hunters, despite their youth, with their ensuing adventures in the subsequent books each apparently episodic and self-contained (so the series doesn’t have to be read in order).

We’re not given an exact date for the events of this installment, but I’d guess it to be roughly 1867, and the twins’ age by now to be about 18. Our setting here is western Missouri and the Arkansas Ozarks, a region genre fans might not associate with Westerns; but in fact, in real life, this area was as much a frontier as the contiguous Kansas and Indian Territory countryside, there was a lot of movement and economic interchange across the state lines, and lifestyles and attitudes didn’t differ much on either the western or eastern sides. The tale begins in medias res, with our Avenging Angels stealthily closing in on the camp of a band of train robbers. Early on, one of these outlaws will drop the name of Rev. Eli Cable. He’s an apparently mesmerizing and charismatic preacher who’s building his own settlement, New Kingdom, in the Ozarks –and who may or may not be the mastermind behind this train robbery. It’s up to our hero/heroine to find out the truth about that; and naturally, it won’t be a simple matter of just riding up to his door and asking him.

This is a well-plotted, ably written novel, with a fast pace and a lot of action. (There’s no “pornography of violence,” but the body count is high, and gun/knife fight scenes, etc. are described simply and straightforwardly.) Some factors give the book a bit more depth than run-of-the-mill Westerns. Eli Cable is a highly complex character; the author looks realistically at the hatreds and grievances left on both sides in the aftermath of America’s bloodiest war, in an area where the fighting was often up-close and personal guerilla war, without justifying hatred or demonizing all ex-Confederates; and the faith of some of the main characters gives a spiritual dimension to the story. (Gramlich himself isn’t necessarily a Christian now, but he was raised as a Roman Catholic and treats faith sympathetically; the book, and evidently the series as a whole, is Christian-friendly.) What we would today call post-traumatic stress disorder also gets some scrutiny. Besides the Western elements, elements of the mystery genre are also deftly incorporated. Bad language is very minimal; and though there’s mention of rape and prostitution, there’s no sex as such. (Reno’s faithfully given his heart to a young lady back home in Kansas.)

My impression of series written by multiple authors is that the main characters can tend to be drawn quite blandly, with a minimal profile that’s not expanded on, so as not to confuse new-to-the-series writers. (After well over 100 books, for instance, all we really know about the Hardy boys is that Frank’s blonde and Joe’s dark-haired. :-) ) Here, though, both the Bass siblings come across as three-dimensional characters whom we do get to know as persons, not as stock roles; and while they’re twins, they’re not clones of each other. In this particular episode, the demands of the plot give Reno more “screen time” in the middle chapters that make up the longest part of the book; he’d have to be described as the main character. But Sara’s role isn’t negligible; she’s a full (and lethal) participant in the many fight scenes, recognized by Reno as smarter and deadlier than he is, and I’d also judge her to be faster and more adept with a pistol than he is (though she admits he’s better at handling a long gun). Both are likable, but she comes across as the more reserved of the two, and also as the one who still has the most anger over the tragic fate of their family.

This would be a quick read if you had a normal amount of time for reading (with our “car books,” of course, Barb and I don’t, hence the long time it took us!), and I think most genre fans would find it enough of a page-turner to make their reading sessions as long as possible. I’m not looking to get drawn into another long series right now, and investigated this volume only because I know the author (electronically); but it made enough of a favorable impression that, if I had handy access to other books in the series, I’d definitely check them out too!

Author: A.W. Hart
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
7 of 12 in the Avenging Angels series.

Wild Justice, by Kelley Armstrong

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆

With this 2013 novel, Armstrong brings her original Nadia Stafford trilogy to a satisfying conclusion (although the two later novellas carry on the story in a rewarding way). Again, six months have passed since the previous installment, so our chronological setting is the latter part of October, 2007.

By the end of the second novel, Nadia had recognized that her true romantic feelings are for Jack. But she also concluded that her taciturn and seemingly unemotional mentor didn’t return them (although readers might be less sure of that). So in the intervening months since, she and Quinn have added a sexual component to their long-distance relationship (they get together about once a month). For readers who view sex as expressive body language for a total self-giving in life-long love and fidelity, it’s not hard to predict that introducing it into a situation where both parties profess no hurry to be committed (and one is in love with someone else) is likely to end in emotional disaster.

That’s what happened here, about a month ago,with Quinn wanting to move in the direction of engagement and marriage and Nadia not willing to, leading to a messy breakup that left him very hurt and her “feeling like [vulgarism deleted].” :-( On top of that stress, when this book opens, she’s in rural Michigan on a job (of the kind that she doesn’t advertise). That quickly results, though through no fault of her own, in a traumatic event which has her on the point of meltdown. But before long, she’s in for a moral and emotional ordeal which will make her present distresses look relatively mild.

Both previous novels have made us aware of the formative event of Nadia’s life, which happened when she was only 13. That was the night she and her beloved 14-year-old cousin Amy (with Nadia along because, as usual, she was trying to keep the headstrong older girl out of trouble) got taken to a lonely woodland cabin by a budding psychopath in his early 20s named Drew Aldritch. Nadia was able to escape and run for help, but Amy still ended up raped and killed. At the trial, Nadia wasn’t called to testify; and it didn’t help that Amy was a bit of a “wild child” with a reputation as a flirt.

The defense exploited that to claim that the sex was “consensual,” and that Aldritch strangled his victim to death “accidentally.” So the jury acquitted him. (Yes, this is fiction; but sadly, even in real life, there are jurors who would actually be that idiotic.) He left town immediately; and Nadia hasn’t seen him since. But the horror of the tragedy, and the survivor’s guilt, has stayed with her for 20 years, shaping her into the adult woman she became, and leaving her with intermittent nightmares from which she still wakes up screaming.

Jack knows something about the baleful influence of teenage trauma (and we’ll learn something, in the course of this book, about his past and how it shaped him –our leading lady here isn’t the only character with painful baggage). Early on, Jack discloses that, on his own initiative, he’s tracked Aldritch down to where he’s now living in Ohio under his latest alias, and working, of all things, as a small-town cop –and there’s good reason to believe that his behavior and proclivities haven’t changed for the better in the ensuing decades. So Nadia now has to decide what to do with this knowledge. Whatever happens, this trip down Memory Lane is not going to be a pleasant stroll; and it will prove to be a dark, harrowing, twisty and dangerous one, with more than one major surprise.

As usual, there’s a genuine mystery (actually, more than one) at the heart of this tale; and solving it, and surviving to the point of solving it, will be a challenge. (Luckily, Nadia’s tough and resourceful.) In terms of style, this book is much of a piece with the preceding ones in most respects, including the language issues. Again, there’s no explicit sex, but there is some unmarried sex that takes place, and some scenes are steamier than some readers might want. Romance, and related angst, doesn’t take over the plot, but it plays a more important role than it has up to now, and there will be a significant development in that area. (The books definitely are best read in order.) At one point, a character imparts a crucial piece of information that later developments show that he wouldn’t have known, but that’s the only logical slip; in the main, the plotting is impeccable. For any readers who liked the first two books, this one has to rank as a must-read; and I don’t believe any of them will be disappointed with it!

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: Penguin Group; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Made to Be Broken, by Kelley Armstrong

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆½

Although I first experienced this series through the two sequel novellas, this second installment of Armstrong’s Nadia Stafford trilogy would be best read after the series opener, Exit Strategy. References are made to events in the first book, and to parts of Nadia’s backstory which are detailed there, and these are much more meaningful if you’ve read the first installment. Even more importantly, Armstrong really introduces Nadia’s complex character and current circumstances in depth in the first book; the development she undergoes here presupposes that foundation. (That’s also true for other characters from that book who continue to play roles here; you need the full-orbed picture to understand them.)

Some six months have passed since the events of the earlier novel. Nadia’s kept in contact with Quinn, a U.S. federal cop who secretly moonlights as a vigilante assassin. He’s romantically interested in Nadia; her feelings about him are more ambiguous (even to her), but she values his friendship. As a teen, she came close to qualifying for Canada’s Olympic distance shooting team. That gives her very formidable skills with a sniper rifle; and when this book opens, she’s peering through the scope of one from a belfry in downtown Toronto. Quinn’s solicited her help with one of his hits. That particular episode, though, is over quickly and painlessly for all concerned. It serves mainly to remind us (and to clue in readers who skipped the series opener) that as fictional female sleuths go, our protagonist is not nearly so law-abiding a member of that sorority as, say, Nancy Drew. She is, however, one who has some investigative know-how, which she’s willing to use in a good cause if it’s needed –and it’s soon going to be, sorely.

Even with her off-the-books side income, Nadia can’t afford to pay more than a tiny staff at her guest lodge; but out of kindness, she’s given a job as assistant housekeeper to a 17-year-old girl from the nearby small town of White Rock, Sammi Ernst. Sammi’s foul-mouthed, barely literate, and has a chip on her shoulder; the latter isn’t surprising, given her life situation. She’s the out-of-wedlock daughter of Janie Ernst. Both women are widely looked down on in the community –Janie because she’s a drunken, mean-tempered, self-centered deadbeat, and Sammi mainly because she has Janie for an (abusive) mother. Also a single mom herself, Sammi’s not promiscuous like Janie (she had a single affair, with a visiting rich college kid who wasn’t interested in marriage or fatherhood, and left her to bear his unacknowledged daughter alone); and also unlike her own mom, she genuinely loves baby Destiny, and wants to work to support her, rather than making a dead-end career out of welfare dependency as Janie has.

When, soon after Nadia’s return home, Sammi and Destiny don’t come back from their usual evening walk in the woods, there are things that strongly suggest to our heroine that their disappearance wasn’t voluntary. But White Rock’s police force is small, not especially competent, and has other priorities; and the two senior officers despise Nadia because of the way she was kicked out of the force years ago, so aren’t disposed to take anything she says seriously. As far as they’re concerned, Sammi obviously just ran off; because, hey, that’s what trashy teens can be expected to do, right? Most of the townsfolk are quite content with that explanation. (Janie’s only feeling about the matter is anger at losing the rent money she charged the girl.) Of the few who aren’t, Nadia’s the only one actually capable of looking into the matter. But though Jack’s been out of touch for about six months, he’ll soon be at the lodge recovering from a broken ankle. (And don’t forget about Quinn, either.)

This is a gritty, page-turning mystery, reflecting the violent stylistic school associated mostly with American writers (rather than the more cerebral traditional school of Doyle and Christie). A number of people are going to die here, not all of whom deserve to, because we’re dealing with ruthless villains with no consciences. (While this is fiction, it looks at a dark underbelly of anomic modern society in a way that could easily be true.) And Nadia being who she is, the mode of dealing with some of these types may be with the business end of a pistol. As another reviewer commented, her ethics and moral compass may not be something all readers endorse (I don’t, as such –and Nadia doesn’t claim saint status for herself, either).

But she does HAVE ethics and a moral compass; and for me, the way she sincerely tries to grapple with balancing it with the realities of a very grim world, in which the law doesn’t always serve justice or protect the helpless, is one of the great strengths of the series, and a source of its considerable emotional power. That’s as true of this book as of the others. Despite the body count, there’s no wallowing in blood and gore, and no sex as such, though there are a few “sexual situations.” Romantic feelings and angst are not a major strand of the plot here. Nadia’s narrative voice, IMO, is perfect for these books. The one negative is the amount of f-words and profanity from some characters, especially Jack. I admit that this is “realistic” for speakers who are steeped in this milieu, and have the backgrounds that some of them do; but I don’t really need that much pedantic realism. But the strong character portrayals and serious moral reflection here earn the book its stars despite that factor.

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: Bantam Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The Flower and the Blackbird, by Liane Zane

  By

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆

My friend Liane Zane kindly gifted me with a paperback copy of this second of her Elioud Legacy novels, as she did with the first one (The Harlequin & The Drangùe), in exchange for an honest review. Having liked the first book, I was glad to accept; and I wasn’t disappointed with the sequel!

The premise of the Elioud Legacy builds on the idea, based on a passage in the book of Genesis, that in the days before Noah’s flood, “and also after that,” there were matings between angelic beings and humans, resulting in mixed-race offspring, here called the “Elioud.” On that foundation, Zane builds the literary conceit that these pairings are still going on at times, that a fair number of humans with some angelic genes still walk the earth, gifted with more-than-human abilities and perceptions in proportion to their angelic ancestry (although using these usually takes some training), and that those who know their ancestry may consciously ally themselves either with God or Satan. Though some, the “Grey Elioud,” would prefer to stay out of the whole cosmic battle….

Readers of the first book will already know the above; and I definitely recommend reading the books in order. Here, events from the series opener are referred to in a cursory way; but you will understand the characters, situation, and prior events better with a reading of the first book, and that one lays an essential foundation for what follows. In the first book, CIA agent Olivia Markham and her two close female friends and fellow 20-something intelligence agents (though from different European countries) met Albanian tycoon Mihail Kastrioti and his two fellow long-lived Elioud warriors for the Lord –and the ladies learned that they also have Elioud blood. That book pitted the two threesomes against the demon Asmodeus and his human acolyte, Joseph Fagan, who happens to head up the CIA’s Vienna office, but who has an agenda and proclivities that his superiors wouldn’t like. (A serious psychological evaluation on him before he joined the Company would have been a really good idea!) But equally importantly, we also learned that each member of the two trios felt a mutual strong attraction to a member of the other one. Since the series is projected to be a trilogy, and it’s in the paranormal romance sub-genre, I figured that each book would feature the story of a different one of these couples, and focus on their relationship.

Here, we focus on Italian intelligence agent Anastasia (“Stasia”) Fiore and Mihail’s side-kick Miro Kos. (“Fiore” is Italian for flower, and “Kos” means blackbird in his native Croatian, hence the book title.) Neither are unaware of feeling attracted to the other, but neither of them welcome it. Stasia’s not immune to male charms; but as a largely secular-minded young woman who mostly goes with the flow of her culture’s mores, she’s always opted to keep her sex life strictly casual. And she’s put off by the whole eternal cosmic battle revelation, and wants no part of it; she wants to keep her feet firmly planted in the familiar mundane security of the “real” world she’s always known. For his part, Miro has psychological baggage going back a long time (to the era of World War I, in fact!); his only venture into romance didn’t end well for him. But circumstances are about to throw these two together.

When last we left Asmodeus and Fagan, the former was in a coma and the latter had been on the receiving end of a partial memory wipe. But some weeks have elapsed since then…. Now, on loan from her agency to the Art Squad of Italy’s national police force, Stasia’s on the track of the thieves of a couple of valuable paintings, one of them a long-unknown, recently surfaced work by Rembrandt, “The Judgment of the Watcher Angels.” This case will be the tip of an iceberg involving not one but two demons, secrets of the classical art world, and high-stakes derring-do and fighting action that will give all six of our favorite Elioud a dangerous work-out, on both a physical and a spiritual plane.

In terms of messaging, stylistic features, and the quality of the writing, this volume is much of a piece with the preceding one. We have the same Christian grounding (the author is a Christian, of the Roman Catholic denomination) and strong good vs. evil vibe. Also in evidence is the same quick narrative pace, vivid characterizations (all six of our principal characters have quite distinct personalities, rather than being clones of each other), local color clearly based on serious research, capable depiction of action scenes and high technology, and solid knowledge of the actual geography of the locales where events take place, which I’m guessing comes from very extensive use of Internet maps and pictures. The relationship between the hero and heroine develops over a period of months, so we don’t have the same insta-love problem as in the first novel. Readers interested in the shady side of the art world, including art theft, will appreciate the use of that angle here (in that respect, the book might appeal to fans of such novels as The Collection and Zrada by Lance Charnes, though his works don’t have any supernatural elements).

Unlike the first novel, this one does have some explicit (and unmarried) sex, though it’s described in a way that comes across as loving rather than lewd. The author is aware that this poses issues; but it’s also, in the circumstances, not an unrealistic development, human nature being what it is. This is a stirring tale of a strong, respect-worthy hero and a tough, straight-shooting (in more ways than one!) heroine fighting evil and finding a committed connection to each other along the way. Though I don’t recommend starting the series here, I’d recommend this book to any reader who liked the first one!

Author: Liane Zane
Publisher: Zephon Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

 

Girl of Nightmares, by Kendare Blake

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

Warning: while this review contains no spoilers for the book I’m reviewing, it inevitably involves some spoilers for the book to which it’s a sequel, Anna Dressed in Blood. (I didn’t review that one here; see below). The situation in this book directly grows out of the events of the first one; and though the author provides some brief references to those in the opening chapters here, if you have not read the series opener, you would get only the very bare basics of what happened there. IMO, she expected that her readers will read the books in order, and I would strongly recommend doing so. Your whole understanding of the premise here, your engagement with the story, and your understanding of who most of the major characters are as people and your emotional connection to them will be seriously impaired if you don’t!

With this novel, Blake concludes the Anna duology. The two books are quite similar in terms of style and literary vision. As in the first book, our protagonist and present-tense narrator is high school junior Cas Lowood, the latest member of his family line to wield a magically-powered athame capable of sending those ghosts which are homicidal (not all ghosts are) out of this world into the afterlife. And again, our title character is Finnish-descended Anna Korlov (ca. 1942-1958), brutally murdered by her own mother, a black-magic witch, who cursed the girl with a spell that forced her to haunt the house in which she died and to savagely slaughter anyone hapless enough to subsequently enter it. Near the end of the first book, Anna deliberately cast herself through a portal into Hell (conceived in terms more owing to North American European-derived folk religion than to anything biblical), dragging along with her an utterly malevolent and murderous spirit of enormous power and menace, the “Obeahman,”and thereby saved the lives of Cas and others –but not before she and Cas had forged a genuine emotional connection.

The previous novel took place in the fall of Cas’ junior year in high school. When the second one opens, we’re now in the late spring of the next year, when the school year is rapidly winding down to its close. All during the interval, a grieving Cas has been searching for some way to communicate with Anna and at least obtain some sort of closure. He’s been aided in this quest by his mom, a white witch; by his London-based British mentor (and the mentor of his late father before him) Gideon Palmer; and by his high-school classmate, psychically-gifted Thomas Sabin and Thomas’ grandfather Morfran, a pair who are endowed with pretty formidable magic talents of their own. So far, they’ve drawn a blank. But now, Cas is beginning to find his dreams turned nightmarish with visions of Anna and, increasingly, experiencing very vivid waking visions of her as well. Are these genuine communications from Beyond, or is he simply beginning to lose his mind and hallucinate? (Well, for an answer, you’ll just have to read the book! :-) )

The first novel in the series isn’t an action heroine read. There, although Anna, as a cursed ghost, is formidably deadly (she can, and does, kill people by literally ripping them to pieces), she’s not inflicting her mayhem in a heroic mode; and where physical combat with dark forces is called for, it falls strictly on Cas. This time, though, he’s going to need help in that department; and Carmel Jones, queen bee of the high school’s “in” crowd (and Thomas’ girlfriend; Blake lets her transcend stereotype, which I appreciated) will find herself “getting in touch with her inner warrior princess.” Then there’s magically-gifted teen Jestine “Jess” Reardon, groomed to be Cas’ replacement (long story!) by the ancient Druidic order whose ancestors created the athame, who’s combat-capable as well as smart. And just because Anna’s no longer cursed doesn’t mean that she’s not still one tough ghost…. Action scenes that involve these young ladies aren’t numerous –but they are pretty intense, and potentially lethal (or worse).

Our initial setting is the main setting of most of the first book, the real-life rather large Canadian city of Thunder Bay, Ontario. We also have a couple of ghost-hunting side trips to Minnesota, and then shift to the British Isles for roughly the last half of the book. Again, Blake gives us three-dimensional people in her important characters (both the returning ones and one newly introduced here), who have realistically complex feelings and motivations and nuanced attitudes and interactions, but whom at the same time we can understand and like. Folklore from the Vodoun tradition isn’t as prominent in this book, but the author continues to make good use of Finnish lore, particularly the role of Sami drums in shamanism. Again, this is a very gripping read, with a high suspense factor, several surprise developments (which never violate the logic of the plot, unlike the “surprises”thrown in by some genre writers!), often a real sense of life-and-death danger in places, a high-stakes central conflict, and scenes of ghostly menace which conjure a genuine, powerful sense of creepiness. The emotional intensity of the story, for me, was quite high.

As with the first book, I’d call this an adult novel which happens to have mostly teen characters. I don’t unreservedly recommend it for teen readers because, like the first book, it has a lot of bad language, including profanity and obscenity, the great majority of it gratuitous. (That cost it a star.) But, also like the first book, it has no sexual content, and the violence, though it’s there, isn’t more graphic than necessary. If you’ve read the first book, I’d characterize this sequel as a must-read.

Author: Kendare Blake
Publisher: Tor Teen; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Exit Strategy, by Kelley Armstrong

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

Canadian author Kelley Armstrong is best known as a bestselling writer of urban fantasy. Her Nadia Stafford trilogy was her first foray into the mystery/crime fiction genre. Having already read the sequel novellas that conclude the series, I really want to read the original trilogy. This first volume didn’t disappoint!

After a short, grim prologue in third person, Chapter 1 introduces us to series protagonist Nadia, who’ll be our first person narrator for the bulk of the novel. (The parts from other viewpoints are in third person.) Now 32 years old (so, though the books were written from 2007-2017, the story arc of the series actually covers just three years in her life), she owns and operates a guest lodge in the northern forests of her native Canada. Raised in a family of cops, she’s always had a strong compulsion to serve justice and protect the innocent, which deepened and became more driven after the death of her much-loved cousin, who was murdered when the girls were in their teens. (Nadia still blames herself for not keeping Amy safe.) When she followed in her family footsteps by joining the force, that compulsion had to be tempered by laws and procedures protecting suspects and requiring due process, that exist for a good reason. In her early 20s, there came a triggering incident where her reaction couldn’t be tempered, and boiled over in an act of vigilantism that cost her her badge. Investing in her lodge was a way of rebuilding her life. But she’s fortunate in employing a married couple who can manage the place at times if she has to be away for awhile; because she has an un-advertised side occupation.

The lodge barely breaks even, and six years ago was on the verge of bankruptcy. A regular guest was aware of her financial troubles, and of her history. He happened to be a high-ranking member of New York City’s Tomassini Mafia family. His family aren’t philanthropists, and don’t have much in the way of ethical values –but he could respect hers, and understand something of her mindset. Occasionally, the Tomassini’s interests call for the elimination of some genuinely bad person, who really is a threat to the innocent; and at those times, they’re willing to pay top dollar to someone who can accomplish their purpose capably, without getting caught. So, he had a business proposition for her; and when she accepted it, she saved her lodge.

But she also crossed a line that put her permanently on the wrong side of the law, precluded much possibility for normal close human relationships, and set her on a dark and morally problematic path. She doesn’t relish killing in itself, even of the deserving and dangerous, and is painfully aware that a regular diet of it is troubling and unhealthy. But it does allow her, in some sense, to fulfill her inner compulsion, and it’s become an inescapable part of the person that she is, which she shoulders responsibility for. Her narrative voice looks at herself honestly and self-critically, but without apology. So if you, the reader, are going to be friends with her, you’ll have to look her in the eye and decide whether you can accept her as is. (Obviously I can, since I’m a series fan.)

Early on here, she gets a visit from her taciturn older acquaintance Jack. She’s gotten to know him some (though that’s not easy) in the last few years, since he first showed up at the lodge and let her know that he’s also in her illegal line of work. He’s been back sometimes since, and become a bit of a mentor, with professional advice that she’s found useful. Now, he’s bringing news of the Helter Skelter Killer who’s been terrorizing the U.S. (she’s heard of the case, but deliberately refused to immerse herself in the details). Over a period of nine days in October, across several states, four very diverse people have been murdered, in different localities and all by different means; the only unifying factor is a page torn out of the book Helter Skelter and left beside each of the victims. The chilling twist, though, is that law enforcement officials believe the perp is actually a professional killer, who’s gone rogue and is now dropping random bodies. This has produced an unusual spotlight of police attention on the very small world of long-term hitmen/women, resulting in a couple of arrests, much inconvenience, and a general climate that’s very bad for business.

By nature and necessity, the denizens of this circle are not a gregarious and chummy bunch; but to the extent that they do share information and opinions, their general consensus is that this wacko needs to be identified and stopped, NOW. Jack wants to know if Nadia’s willing to bring her cop skills to the table and partner with him in this hunt. She’s not too keen about coming out from behind her curtain of anonymity, even just among other assassins; and while talking to Jack sometimes at her lodge is one thing, she’s got some trust issues about going off to the States with him and working together. But …the precious lives of more potential victims that this killer might take are at stake, and Nadia is Nadia. Having gotten to know her by reading the novellas, I wouldn’t have been surprised by her answer even if I hadn’t read the cover blurb of the book. :-) So, as Sherlock Holmes might have said, the game is afoot!

As a rule, I don’t care for the idea of serial-killer fiction, and mostly avoid it (the one other exception being Agatha Christie’s The ABC Murders). I’m also not usually a particular fan of romantic triangles, despite my liking for the Twilight Saga, and we get something of that vibe here. (Having read the later books, I already knew how that would play out –and my reviews of those books would be “spoilers” for that aspect!– but reading the series in order is probably the best way to experience the character arcs and relationship developments.) Unlike in the Christie book, we do experience most of the serial killings directly, although they’re done quickly and Armstrong doesn’t wallow in the gore, and we do get in the killer’s sick and disturbed head some –thankfully, only at times and briefly, but it’s an unpleasant place to be.

Coupled with the mitigating factors, though, the author’s strong character study of Nadia herself made this a worthwhile read. She’s a fascinating, complex character (and when the chips are down, an actual heroine despite the ethical issues some of her life choices present), and not the only one of those here; very vivid, round and complicated characterizations are one of this author’s particular strengths. Even minor characters who only appear for a few pages are often illuminated clearly enough to be memorable. Not many of them are particularly likeable (although Nadia honestly is, at least to me, and that’s an assessment I think series fans in general would echo), but you do understand them –or, if you don’t, you’re intrigued enough to want to peel back more of the layers.

This is a genuine, challenging mystery that takes detection and deduction to solve, and Nadia and her unlikely fellow sleuths don’t have access to the kind of crime scene investigation and witness interviews that the FBI does. (Fortunately, though, which partially compensates, they do have more knowledge of the shadowy world of killers for hire than the authorities do.) It’s definitely a mystery of the “American” school, not its staid and cerebral British counterpart: gritty, violent and fraught with danger, and peppered with bad language, though I considered the level of the latter legitimate in terms of realism for these characters. (There’s no sex, explicit or not, but there is some reference to it; Nadia isn’t often promiscuous, but her attitudes are colored by the fact that she doesn’t expect marriage to ever be in her possible future.) The investigation snakes through a dark underside of America, where not only the serial killer but other nefarious types as well have dark secrets, and no scruples about eliminating the nosy. And while Nadia’s very protective of innocent life, even when it’s not convenient to be –despite her hit woman credentials, you could totally trust her to babysit your toddlers!– thugs who want to kill her may find her quite lethal.

Overall, this is a gripping read right from the starting gate (Armstrong leaves two dead bodies lying on the first nine pages), with a lot of action and a real page-turning quality. With the above-mentioned caveat for language issues, I’d highly recommend it to mystery/crime fiction and action “thriller” fans.

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: KLA Fricke Inc.; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Perfect Victim, by Kelley Armstrong

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

35-year-old series protagonist Nadia Stafford owns and operates a wilderness guest lodge in the wilds of the vast Canadian forests northwest of Toronto, and her 53-year-old live-in boyfriend Jack helps out in this enterprise at times. (They’re a loving and committed couple, but they can’t legally marry because Jack no longer has any legal ID under his real name, and it would be very dangerous for him to try to get any.) Our story begins at the lodge, but after the first six chapters (and these are short chapters), we head out with the pair to sunny Hawaii, ostensibly for a sudden quick vacation. But it’s really a business trip; they’ve been hired to work together, which is unusual. Since they both occasionally moonlight as hired killers (although only of genuine baddies, not innocents), a typical employment contract for one of them calls for bringing about some villain’s demise. This time out, though, their main job is really the converse: to protect a good person from an untimely demise.

Over the past year, a social worker and a judge, both working in Hawaii’s family-court system, died in phony suicides that have been unmasked as concealed murders. Now a lawyer specializing in these kinds of cases has been blinded in one eye by a bomb, meant for him, that killed his teenage daughter. Gallant young lawyer Angela Kamaka has stepped up to take over his caseload –and since she has, her dog has been poisoned; she discovered a bomb attached to her car before turning the key, which would have detonated it, and her boyfriend was shot at in her backyard, and has decamped. An old acquaintance (not a friend; they didn’t part on the best of terms!) of Jack’s, one Tyrone Cypress, cares about Angela’s safety.

To his mind, ensuring it means taking out the killer behind this string of murders and murder attempts. The problem is, nobody knows who this is; the police are stymied. (They have suspects, but that isn’t the same thing as hard evidence.) So, he’s not just hiring a hit on the culprit; first, that culprit will need to be unmasked. That’s where he thinks Nadia’s talents will come in handy; and knowing her attitudes by reputation, he’s pretty sure Angela’s the sort of person our favorite lady assassin would care about and want to help.

He’s definitely not wrong on that score; and Nadia does have more investigative chops than either Ty or Jack. She’s as adept with a computer as she is with a gun; and as an ex-cop (she was kicked off the force for dishing out some vigilante justice) she has police experience. But she was a beat cop, not a detective. As she notes here, while she has solved mysteries before, she was able to because she already knew something the police didn’t, or because the solution essentially dropped into her lap. Investigative technique isn’t really something she’s trained in, and here she’s soon conscious that she’s in over her head. (But she IS smart, very good at deductive reasoning, and gifted at reading other people….)

As in the preceding novella, Double Play, Nadia is our first-person narrator in the chapters identified with her name, while Jack is viewpoint character for the third-person chapters identified with his name, and told with his perspective and vocabulary. Unlike the earlier book, though, the plotting here is impeccable; it’s a very nicely-constructed traditional mystery, without logical problems or excessive stupidity on the criminal side. (After a big reveal, I did guess another development before Nadia did, but not much before.) ‘

Also in an improvement over Double Play, Jack’s use of the f-word is toned down significantly in his chapters (and Nadia’s always been, for someone with her background, relatively temperate in her use of bad language). The worst language here actually comes from Tyrone. There’s no explicit sexual content, and violence is minimal and not overly graphic. Armstrong’s prose style is serviceable and spare, without being overly “minimalist;” there’s a strong narrative drive, and the plotting is tight, making for a quick, page-turning read. Both main characters are likeable (just because we know they occasionally dispatch some bad guys doesn’t mean we can’t like them :-) ), and I really liked the ending, though I’ll write no spoilers!

Armstrong mentions in an author’s note that Tyrone Cypress is a cross-over character, who also appears in the second novel of another of her series, the Rockton series. I haven’t read any of those books, or indeed any of her work but the two novellas in this omnibus. I would probably try one of her supernatural series before starting another of her descriptive fiction series. But before doing either, my priority would be to read the original Nadia Stafford trilogy; and I hope to do that sooner rather than later!

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: KLA Fricke Inc.; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book –but only as an omnibus edition paired with the previous novella, Double Play.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.