Author: Werner Lind

Real Dangerous Fun, by K. W. Jeter

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

With this read of the fourth (in the Lincoln Square Books numbering) installment of the author’s Kim Oh series, I’ve now read all of the volumes that are currently available in paper format. All of the previous ones have earned high ratings from me, despite some flaws that can mostly be summarized as continuity or editing issues; it’s fair to say that this is one of my favorite action-adventure series, and I’m definitely a fan of the heroine. This particular book, however, proved to be the weakest of the series so far, and really only mustered two and a half stars in my estimation. The main drawbacks here only become really evident on reflection after the read, or at the very end, so all through the read itself I did enjoy the experience.

Korean-American (though, as we learned in the previous book, she and her brother are only half Korean in their ancestry) protagonist and first-person narrator Kim, as series fans will already know, is the guardian and caretaker of her wheelchair-bound younger sibling Donnie. Not able to pay for their food and rent as a bookkeeper (she’s good at it, but not very credentialed) the series opener showed how, by a believable story arc, she opted for a career change as a hired gun. She’s occasionally a paid assassin (though, as she says, only of “the kind of creeps on which there was a general consensus that if they stopped breathing, it’d pretty much be an improvement to the world;” she does have ethical “standards” for herself, and Jeter doesn’t directly depict that side of her work), but mostly as a bodyguard or “security” for employers whose business interests may attract violent hostiles. They tend to be shady types (whom she doesn’t much like or respect), and job security isn’t very dependable.

When our story opens, some two months have passed since the previous book. Kim’s now about 20, and Donnie around 14 (the ages aren’t explicitly stated, but inferred from time progressions from book to book). Since her former boss didn’t survive the previous adventure (and had fired her anyway), she’s been between jobs since then, and her savings are dwindling. Now, however, an opportunity knocks. A wealthy but sleazy tycoon wants to hire her to accompany his college-student daughter to fictional Meridien (supposedly the smallest country in South America) for spring break. This won’t (so he says) be a very taxing job; Lynndie Heathman doesn’t so much need a bodyguard as a kind of glorified nanny to keep her out of serious trouble. So, Kim’s soon flying to Meridien –with Donnie in tow, albeit against her druthers.

She’s reluctant to bring him anywhere near the sybaritic conditions that await them; but although he’s able to look after himself for awhile if he needs to (and has, at times), as he pointed out, Child Protective Services knows she’s landed this job and won’t look kindly on him being left to his own devices for this long. (And she doesn’t plan on letting him participate in any drunken orgies!) Knowing the kind of intense searches today’s airplane travelers are subjected to, she’s opted not to bring along a gun. But, hey, it’s not as if any danger is likely to present itself on this gig, right? (I was reminded of the Robert Burns poem about “best laid plans….”) On the flight, Donnie strikes up an acquaintance with Mavis, a full-scholarship anthropology student who’s headed for Meridien on her department’s nickel, not to party but to do research, and who’s (like him) more than a little tech-savvy.

We’ll see more of her (long story!). Jeter doesn’t explicitly establish her age, either (and that’s going to be an important detail, in my estimation!) We only know that she’s not old enough to drink, “Even for here;” if the drinking age there is 18, I’d guess she’s 17. (Kim noted that she seemed younger than the rest of the college crowd, and refers to her once as underage.) Some teens enroll in college early (and dual enrollment programs for high school juniors and seniors exist at a number of colleges); but this should have been explained, and I can’t think that she could be any younger than 17.

We’re not surprised when this expedition goes south (in more ways than the geographically obvious one!) early on. This tale is an excursion into the darker recesses of what human nature is capable of, though there’s light in the darkness. With a time span of just a few days, the plotting is taut and the pace mostly quick (it slows a bit in the middle, only because it has to). As always, Jeter handles action scenes well, and the setting is evoked effectively. Kim’s her usual self, and for series fans her wry, snarky narrative voice (with a chip on the shoulder as far as wealthy, entitled snobs are concerned, but given her circumstances, it’s hard to blame her) comes across much like her sitting down with you as an old friend she trusts completely, kicking back over a cup of tea and recounting her experience.

And along the way, there are the revealing moments that show her inner dissatisfaction with aspects of her present life, and her yearning for more normality and human connection; she’s a three-dimensional person who comes across as just as human as you or I, and that’s no mean literary achievement. A couple of plot elements show significant authorial research (smoothly integrated); and Donnie and Mavis’ video technology know-how will come in handy. There’s no explicit sex; and while there’s some h- and d- words and religious profanity, which I didn’t like, there’s no obscenity and the language is in the bounds of realism with a degree of tasteful restraint. You can expect some violent deaths, and you’ll encounter one grisly image in particular that even had Kim “a little nauseated;” but the grisliness isn’t any worse than it has to be.

What pulled my rating for this installment down wasn’t the kind of continuity and editorial issues some earlier ones had; those weren’t present here. But there were more serious basic logical issues. In the first place, the main villains here acted in a way that was (from their standpoint) highly unnecessary and unwise, against their own interests, and that’s just papered over in the apparent hope that we won’t notice. But that creates a logical hole you could drive a fleet of trucks through. Secondly, Kim’s plan at the end completely depends on somebody else acting in a certain way in two respects, one of which was likely enough but not guaranteed, and the other of which was IMO actually quite unlikely. Things fell into place here because she had the author pulling strings on her behalf, but in real life that factor wouldn’t be present.

Kim also came across as uncharacteristically naive in accepting the supposed lack of danger in this job so uncritically; and later she made one error of judgment that immediately set off even my warning bells. (Her late mentor Cole would have chewed her out royally!) Finally, Jeter introduces one or two intriguing mystery elements in the first chapter –and soon drops them completely down the memory hole. :-( Another major negative (for me) appeared only in the final paragraphs. For that reason, it might be spoilerish to discuss it here, though it isn’t a spoiler for anything to do with the main plot. But despite these negatives, I’d still recommend the book to most fans of the series.

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Real Dangerous Place, by K. W. Jeter

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

Note: My previous reviews of this series had incorrect information on the series numbering, and about the relationship of this printing to the first one. That first printing had seven volumes. If Lincoln Square Books reprints all of the series, their edition will have six, because they combined the original Real Dangerous Girl and  Real Dangerous Job (which form a single story arc) as Parts I and II of a single novel with the first title. However, they did NOT combine any of the later novels, which all have their original titles; the next two, including this one, were divided into Parts I and II to start with. I apologize to readers for the earlier misleading information; but a late correction is better than no correction!

Having read (and reviewed) the previous volumes in this action adventure series, all of which got high ratings from me, I was glad to follow along with this next installment. Most readers of this book will probably have read the earlier ones –and should have, since this series is one that absolutely needs to be read in order. (This review will contain some spoilers for the preceding book, though not for this one.) Likewise, most readers of this review will most likely have read my takes on the preceding volumes, so will already have a basic idea of Kim’s personality, family situation, and back history.) The main body of this story takes place on one day, mostly in a tense hostage situation, and Part I ends in a cliff-hanger in the very middle of that situation.

The most obvious difference between the previous installments and this one is that we’re no longer in our familiar upstate New York setting. Landing on her feet at the conclusion of her previous adventure, our rough-edged heroine had wangled herself a job as chief of security for her deceased boss’ erstwhile newly minted partner, Mr. Karsh (whose business practices unfortunately aren’t any more ethical or strictly legal than the late Mr. Falcon’s, though he also aspires to a veneer of legitimacy). In the interim between the two books, his far-flung business enterprises have taken him to L.A. for an extended stay, so he’s re-located Kim and Donnie (I’d say she’s now at least 18, if not 19, and Donnie’s 12-13) there along with him. When our story opens, Kim’s making better money than before; she and Donnie can afford a better apartment, and Karsh’s gotten him into a private school that caters to special-needs kids. She’s thinking that their situation is looking up; but with her luck, it can go south very quickly. And then things get really hairy, when she finds herself, in a Karsh-owned equipment truck, in the middle of a late afternoon traffic jam on an elevated L.A. freeway, in which Donnie’s school bus is also stuck –and shooting and explosions start to happen.

That brings us to another difference, or set of differences, from the previous books. Here, the unity of time and location is much tighter. Events are also, in a sense, more straightforward. True, Kim doesn’t have a clue why a gaggle of heavily armed thugs have set off vehicle explosions that block 50 or 60 cars between them, with no escape, and neither do we as readers; Jeter will disclose their leader’s plan and motivation only very gradually. But figuring out who the enemy is here isn’t going to be a problem; they’re toting their assault rifles quite openly. There are also a number of scenes and events here to which Kim isn’t privy at the time. Given that she’s our first-person narrator, that’s a challenge to pull off, but Jeter does it successfully. He’s already used the technique, in previous books, of her describing a scene the way she imagines it went. (But as Kim says, “The thing about my imagination, though –I’m not usually wrong about whatever I come up with. Kind of a gift, that way.” :-) )

Here, he just has to use it a great deal more. Finally, there’s not a lot of moral ambiguity or grey areas in this tale; anybody who’s not morally brain-dead can recognize that the perpetrators aren’t doing good things, and Kim doesn’t need to agonize over whether it’s right to try to mess up their plans and hopefully get Donnie to safety -and herself and maybe others as well, if she’s lucky. That’s pretty much a given. The real question is whether she can rescue anybody. (The cover art here is highly misleading; Kim never has a pistol in her hand in this book.) Her treasured .357 is in her shoulder bag in her boss’ car (long story), and the head thug quickly relieved her of the Ladysmith in her thigh holster. So she’s unarmed, and not blessed with a physique that gives her much advantage in hand-to-hand combat, nor martial arts skills. But she does have guts, smarts, and determination; and her colleague Elton (whom we met in the previous book), who’s with her in the truck, has the same qualities.

The action-adventure aspect of the story is more prominent here than in the previous books (though Kim herself gets to display her chops only towards the end –she’ll more than make up for that, however!), and is presented with a good deal of tension, suspense, and excitement, punctuated by explosions and mayhem. (Hollywood disdains to adapt indie or small-press books as films; that’s their loss in this case, because the narrative has a highly cinematic quality. It would be tailor-made for adaptation as an action film, and would probably be very popular at the box office.) Strong characterization is an asset, as always in this series; Donnie in particular comes into his own here (and we actually learn what his medical condition is; it’s esophageal atresia, and compounded in his case with complications from surgical infection, it’s life-threatening). And don’t sell him short in a crisis, either; yeah, his legs are useless, but his big sister isn’t the only sibling in that family who’s got fighting spirit…. Bad language is restrained (no obscenity, and not much religious profanity), and there’s no sexual content; Jeter’s prose is vivid, and the narrative is fast-paced.

Continuity/editing issues, as in the previous book, are the one significant flaw here. An important plot point results from a scuffle that supposedly took place earlier; but in the earlier part of the book that describes that encounter, there was clearly no scuffle at all. At one point, Kim refers to being aware of something she actually couldn’t have known until later. Most glaringly, a character who’s shot dead with a close-range pistol bullet between the eyes appears two pages later, walking, talking and menacing people. In fairness, I had to deduct a star for those issues, but they didn’t keep me from really liking the book. (All of them could be fixed with fairly slight editing.) For series fans, it’s a must-read; and I think most fans of clean action-adventure, especially those who appreciate a protagonist from the distaff side, would greatly like this series if they’d try it.

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The Draka and the Giant, by Liane Zane

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

Liane Zane brings her Elioud Legacy trilogy to a rousing and powerful conclusion in this novel, which was actually my favorite of the three. (Full disclosure at the outset: Liane, who’s a Goodreads friend of mine, generously gifted me with a paperback ARC, because she knew I’d really liked the two earlier books. No promise of a good review was offered or requested; this book amply earned that on its merits.)

This is definitely a series that needs to be read in order. Our story here opens in medias res, and readers who begin here won’t have much knowledge of the premise or the situation –nor, especially, of the characters and their relationships. You really need the context of the first two books to fully appreciate this one. (With that context, though, it becomes a wonderful capstone to the arch the author has crafted!) However, for the benefit of readers who haven’t read either of those books nor my or others’ reviews of them, and who may not have seen the book description either, the titular “Elioud” are human-angel hybrids (matings between the two races having begun before the Flood, and some unions –or rapes of humans by fallen angels– supposedly continuing to occur). Depending on their degree of angelic inheritance, Elioud may have special abilities that most humans do not, and may be quite long-lived (as in, centuries) as well. Those who are aware of what they are may choose, like other humans, to knowingly serve God or Satan (or, also like many humans, to imagine that they can just ignore that whole conflict and be neutrals). But for those on one side or the other, the term “spiritual warfare” may be a lot more literal than it is for most believers.

Near the beginning of the series opener, the three heroines of the trilogy, a close-knit trio of cross-national friends in their early 20s, all of them both working for their respective countries’ intelligence services and involved on the side in a sub rosa vigilante operation of their own against sex traffickers and predators, met three long-lived Elioud warriors, who revealed to the ladies that they also have angel ancestry. Together, the six of them were involved in fighting the nefarious plots, continued across the first two books, of the fallen angel Asmodeus, who’s now set himself up as a cult leader for a sect of brain-washed humans who call themselves bogomili, after a medieval heretical sect (but who are a lot more malevolent and murderous than their earlier, peaceful namesakes). The other aspect of the series plot is that each member of these two trios felt a strong attraction to a member of the other one. It wasn’t hard to predict that each of the three novels would focus on one of these pairs, and that the course of their romance would be an important plot strand. So here, Beta Cerna and Andras Nagy take center stage.

For me, in the previous books, these two characters had always seemed the least interesting and appealing, largely because I didn’t really know them. Indeed, Beta (short for Alzbeta –she’s Czech) is hard to get to know. She’s a “lone wolf” with very few friends, and a brusque manner that can come across as practically feral. And because Andras is big, strong and taciturn, and mostly inclined to obey orders, it’s easy to fall into the trap of subconsciously dismissing him as not very smart or sensitive (though that’s a great mistake!). But here they come into their own; we see them as the complex and special people they truly are. The previous book ended with Beta arousing a sleeping, half groggy Andras for an unexpected sexual encounter in his bed –and then vanishing before morning. When this book opens, none of the other five main characters have seen her for three years (so it’s now 2018). But we soon learn that there’s been more of a reason for her disappearance than her commitment issues. Much is going on, and Asmodeus (and his fellow demon Yeqon. whom we met in the second book) are exponentially ratcheting up their plans, which won’t bode well for humanity if they come to fruition. But the Archangel Michael (directed, of course, by God, though here He operates offstage) has plans too….

Many of the strengths of the preceding books are evident here also. Zane realizes the settings well (events take place in several European countries), and flavors the narrative with glimpses of the various customs, languages, folklore and cuisine of the nationalities represented. Her characters are round, vivid, dynamic, and distinct (every one of the six main characters have their own unique personalities, rather than being clones of the others, but the supporting characters are also clearly drawn). There’s a strong good vs. evil conflict (with a recognition that we wage this conflict in our own hearts, not just with other people), with high stakes and a lot of dramatic tension. Though this isn’t commercial “Christian fiction,” it’s fiction written by a Christian (the author is a practicing Roman Catholic) and the basic message is Christian. (As in much supernatural fiction, the angels vs. demons conflict is a metaphor for the spiritual conflicts of the real world.) My one quibble here is that our heroes and heroines don’t pray much in crisis situations (and they’re up to their eyeballs in the latter, which would do wonders for my prayer life!). But that’s a fairly minor point. It was also actually easier for me to achieve “suspension of disbelief” here than in the first two books, despite the continuing murky points of angelology/demonology, and the ramping up of Elioud powers here (the mating of two Elioud warriors enhances their abilities). Perhaps that’s because by now I’ve gotten more used to my Elioud friends and their fictional world. :-)

Bad language here is minimal. There are some references to lewd and disgusting sexual behavior (Asmodeus and Yeqon hang out in Amsterdam’s red-light district, and their sexual attitudes are what you’d expect from demons), and one instance of premarital, though not casual, sex; but Zane doesn’t emphasize the former any more than she has to, and the latter is explicit only up to a point. (Basically, the romantic content is quite wholesome, and a wedding –I’m not saying whose!– is one of the more moving scenes in the book.) This is definitely the most violent book of the series, though, with two major pitched battles and a body count through the roof, not all of the casualties being bad guys. However, fans of action thrillers won’t mind this, and fans who like their heroines tough will love Beta. (She’s a deadly accurate shot with both a pistol and a long gun, but her favorite weapons are her chain whip and her karambit, a hooked originally Indonesian knife modified as a switchblade, which she finds it soothing to flick open and closed when she’s nervous, the way some people tap their foot. :-) )

While this is, like the others in the trilogy, a thick, substantial novel, at 525 pages it doesn’t feel a bit overly long; I was immersed and interested immediately, and stayed so for every page. It’s also a highly evocative read emotionally, with some beautiful writing and imagery in places (and some very grim images as well). I’d enthusiastically recommend it to fans of supernatural fiction with Christian themes, of action thrillers or action heroines (or heroes), and of paranormal romance.

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.

Real Dangerous People, by K. W. Jeter

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

This gritty and action-packed series was originally marketed in seven volumes. The new edition condenses that to four, by combining the first six into three and designating each component in the pair as either Part 1 or Part 2, the original title of each Part 1 serving as the new book title for both. So this book counts as two series installments. That’s a felicitous arrangement, because installments 1-2 (now paired as Real Dangerous Girl) and 3-4 here both fit together nicely as two self-contained two-part story arcs, each featuring protagonist/narrator Kim but centering on a different challenge each time, that starts in Part 1 and finds its resolution in Part 2. But the books should be read in order; here, references are made to persons and events from the prior installments, and in order to fully understand who Kim and her wheelchair-bound kid brother Donnie are, their situation, and the development of her character, you really need to have read the preceding part of the canon. Warning: this review will contain “spoilers” for the previous book(s).

As I’d deduced and mentioned in my review of installment 1 (I read and wrote about the first two as separate books: what is now Real Dangerous Girl Part 1 and Part 2), the setting is an unnamed city in western New York state. It’s not named here either; but references to docks and ocean-going commerce point to Rochester, which is on Lake Ontario and can access the Atlantic via the St. Lawrence River. Several months have passed since the end of the previous book; it’s now winter. One reference suggests that Kim’s still 17; but she has to be getting pretty close to 18. (A credibility problem with the series is that it’s hard to fit all of her backstory into 17 years.) We’re not actually brought up to speed on the intervening events until Chapter 3, and Kim’s wry description of her new line of work as “killing people” might give the idea that she’s been working as an assassin. She hasn’t –but she has opted to make her living with her .357 rather than her calculator; and as she recognizes, the possibility of lethal violence is always present, especially given the sort of people who’ll employ her.

At Cole’s funeral, a meeting with Curt, an old acquaintance of his that he’d recommended her to, led to a three-month gig in “security” for one Mr. Falcone, another mobster like her former employer, who now prefers to be called Mr. Falcon since he’s looking to shed his Mafia image; also like the late Mr. McIntyre, he’s moving to position himself as more plausibly “legitimate.” (So “security” work for him involves dealing with his double-crossing employees, and attacks by thugs working for his equally shady rivals.) Near the beginning of this book, she’s invited to join his personal bodyguard team, where a sudden vacancy has opened up. But the way it opened up isn’t encouraging…. Since there are a couple of more books in the series, we know that our girl’s going to make it home at the end of the day. But she doesn’t have any such assurance, and the chances of this job ending with a tag on her toe look pretty real. She needs the money, though, since failing to provide for Donnie isn’t an option she’ll accept; and she’s about to face another unexpected existential threat to her little family unit, from a totally different quarter.

As noted above, Kim’s character is developing, and not always in ways that please her. (In fact, some developments concern and scare her.) The criminal underworld she originally entered unwittingly when she landed a job with McIntyre’s now defunct organization has become pretty much her default environment. That’s partly because no legitimate business will hire her as an accountant with no formal credentialling, even if she’s good at it, but also because, though she doesn’t like to admit it to herself, at one level she thrives on the excitement, empowerment and adrenaline rush of life in warrior mode; and she takes fierce pride in being equally good at that. Thanks to Cole’s training, she’s a very accurate, quick-reflexed markswoman, and strong and agile despite her petite stature. (And she can now kill without batting an eye –though that’s a development she fully realizes is problematical.) This career choice puts her on a tightrope between the demands of her job and her moral instincts; the tension of walking it can make her cry and vomit at times. Shades of grey often define her alternatives; there’s a lot of food for thought here in terms of moral reflection, as there often is in this genre. That’s implicit in the story, though, not embodied in explicit struggles in Kim’s mind; survival generally dictates her choices, and the one here that many readers will most intensely disagree with and disapprove of is one she makes instantly and without having to agonize over at all. (Having a family of my own, I totally understand why she doesn’t have to.)

There’s no sex, licit or illicit, in this book (or the prior installments). Kim’s not without interest in sex; but like most teens, she sees herself as unattractive. She’s never pursued a relationship, and she’s taken to heart Cole’s advice that the best option for a hired gun is celibacy. (Though given that he was in a long-term relationship with a live-in girlfriend, he failed to practice what he preached.) Compared to the prior installments, there’s an increase in bad language here, including some use of the f-word and religious profanity, though Jeter’s use of it is still restrained compared to many writers who depict this milieu. (Kim’s own language isn’t as bad as that of her colleagues, though if I were her dad I’d still call her on some of it.) In fairness, given the kind of characters we’re dealing with, the language isn’t unrealistic. Violence comes with this territory; several people here exit the world with bullets in their bodies (some of them by Kim’s hand). But none of them are particularly nice people who would elicit any tears from the average reader; I can safely promise that “no innocents were harmed in the writing of this book.” :-)

In terms of literary quality, this is a highly gripping and emotionally evocative read, and a fast-paced one. Depiction of well-drawn, nuanced characters is one of the author’s strengths; Kim herself is a vital bundle of three-dimensioned nuance, but all of the cast here come to life. (Most aren’t especially likable, except for Donnie and Mae, but I do like Kim and root for her, despite her rough edges; Jeter lets me understand where she’s coming from, and her narrative voice makes me empathize with her.) There’s also more of a mystery element here than in the previous story arc, though I still classify this as action-adventure rather than mystery. It has to be said, though, that this book isn’t as well crafted as the preceding. There are editorial issues, some minor. but several more serious. In places details, plot elements and conversations are inconsistent with things written before, which can fray (though not break) the thread of the plot. (The worst of these is where a character dies in one chapter, but reappears alive in the next one!) That cost the book a star; but I’d still recommend it to all readers of the first book (though not as the starting point for the series). And I most definitely intend to follow the series to its completion!

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
Book 2 of 4 in the Kim Oh series, containing previously available titles Real Dangerous People and Real Dangerous Place.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Claiming Her Legacy, by Linda Goodnight

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

Evangelical Christian author Linda Goodnight is not new to the writing craft; she’s an established novelist with 160 distinct works to her credit, at least some of them best sellers. This particular novel was newly published early this year. Our setting here is Oklahoma Territory in 1890. (At that time, the latter territory occupied the western part of the present-day state; the eastern part was the even more scantily-settled and lawless Indian Territory.) The author lives in Oklahoma (so writes about the setting with assurance); according to an online interview with her, this book was inspired by a photograph in the Territorial Museum at Guthrie, showing a lone pioneer woman toting a rifle in front of a tent as she stood guard over her claim in the 1889 Land Rush. Her spirit imbues Willa Malone, our heroine here. 30 years old, Willa sees herself as an “old maid.” She’s the eldest of three half-sisters, daughters of peripatetic ne’er-do-well Finn Malone, who outlived two wives (and was deserted by a third) in the course of his wanderings, which in 1889 led him to a homestead in the small community of Sweet Clover. Like many of the townsfolk, he was heavily in debt to conniving banker Theodore Pierce, and used his land as collateral. But he’s now recently dead, murdered after he took off on his latest quest for gold. At the moment, the farm isn’t productive; without him, the sisters won’t be able to repay the loan, and they’ll lose their home within months. His killer, though, has been identified as notorious outlaw Charlie Bangs, rumored to be hiding out in Indian Territory, and there’s a $1,000.00 price on his head. When Willa, early on, conceives the idea of tracking him down and claiming the bounty, nobody can talk her out of it. The idea’s not as hare-brained as some folks think. Tough and practical, “tomboy” Willa’s a good shot with a rifle whose hunting skills keep her family supplied with meat; she can ride, and she’s got guts. As even she recognizes, though, the enterprise she’s contemplating is a deadly dangerous one. At the very least, she’ll need the services of an experienced trail guide. Enter one Gideon Hartley. Gideon’s about 35; he’s fairly new in town, but the reputation that precedes him confirms that he’s highly competent as a trail guide in rough terrain –when he’s sober. But his reputation also suggests (correctly) that he drinks a lot. In fact, his alcohol abuse problem is longstanding and deep-seated. He and Willa meet in Chapter 1. Surprisingly (or maybe not, depending on how familiar readers are with “romance” genre conventions; this was published under the “Love Inspired” imprint, though I approached it as a Western, and it works on those terms) there’s some chemistry between them; but neither is looking for that sort of thing, nor inclined to nurture it. More to the point, Willa’s not thrilled with the idea of a “drunk” for a guide; and Gideon (who hasn’t done any guiding for about a year) is pretty well convinced that he’s not up to the job and that Willa would be embarking on a suicide mission anyway. But before long, it becomes clear to her that he’s the only prospective guide she’s going to get, and to him that she’s going whether he goes with her or not. Goodnight gives serious attention to developing her characters (including the secondary ones, along with our H/h) and bringing the community to life, and she takes the time needed to do that in depth. We don’t get started on our actual quest until a bit more than 200 pages in (and the book has 363 pages). Some readers, who expect the adventure of the trail to be the main warp and woof of the tale, won’t like this aspect. However, I fully appreciated the textured, in-depth approach. Both main characters (who alternate as viewpoint characters, though third-person narration is used throughout) are fully round and three-dimensional. Gideon in particular has a lot of psychological baggage, which is believable, and gradually disclosed. Western-style action, once it kicks in, isn’t stinted; there are plenty of jeopardies on the trail, and the climactic confrontation will test our leading couple’s mettle on more than one level. (Willa doesn’t actually have to fire her rifle, but she displays her action heroine moxie by handling a very physically challenging situation near the end with flying colors; I doubt if I’d been brave enough to do the things she did!) The author writes very well; her plotting is excellent, and her re-creation of the time and place masterful. (It features a cameo appearance by real-life person Bass Reeves, the first African-American deputy U.S. marshall.) In keeping with the standards of the ECPA, this book poses no content issues for bad language, sexual content (we do have reference to prostitution, and to the ugly trade of sex trafficking, which is a very contemporary reality, but which goes back a lot longer than that), or ultra-gory violence. Christian faith (which both main characters were raised with, though Gideon’s faith has been long neglected) plays a positive role here, though the book isn’t “preachy” and delivers its spiritual messages by example. I’d recommend this to fans of Westerns, Western romance, and clean (especially Christian) romance in general, as well as to fans of strong heroines. The story arc here is complete, and the book isn’t said to be part of a series (though I suspect that both of Willa’s sisters might eventually get her own sequel). Although some characters, such as Belle Holbrook, obviously have very intriguing backstories, I couldn’t find any indication that they were in prior books by the author. (But if they were, or if they eventually get prequels, I’d be interested in reading those books!) Author: Linda Goodnight Publisher: Love Inspired; available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book. A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith, by Cathy East Dubowski

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.