crime Archives - Page 5 of 5

Yzabel / October 19, 2014

Review: The Schwarzschild Radius

The Schwarzschild Radius by Gustavo Florentin

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Rachel, an 18-year-old Columbia University student, descends into the netherworld of runaways and predators to find her sister, Olivia, who has suddenly disappeared.

After getting a job in a strip joint where Olivia worked, then doing private shows in the homes of rich clients, Rachel discovers that Olivia has been abducted by a killer who auctions the deaths of young girls in an eBay of agony.

When she finds Olivia, Rachel becomes the killer’s next target.

Review:

(I got a copy courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars, veering towards a 4.

Very graphic in parts, and not shying away from dealing with the darkest recesses of the human soul. This might turn off some people, so if depictions of child pornography rings, sex slaves and peep-show practices are something a reader doesn’t want to read about, then better not pick up this novel. Personally, I found it fascinating in a trainwreck way: you can’t help but watch, even though it’s disgusting, and it makes you think about all those people, about depravity, about how low a human being can fall.

Rachel struck me as a resourceful young woman with guts, and overall smart enough to discover a lot on her own quickly enough to avoid falling down as well—because things seemed to move fast, and I have no doubt that once caught in such a spiral, every day spent in it would’ve made it harder and harder for her to go back, as well as to keep the peep show sessions and private parties to a “manageable” level. She was determined to find her sister at all costs; also, she cared about Achara, which was very humane. The one qualm I have with her is that the mistake that made everything speed up was, frankly, a pretty basic one, and I’m still wondering if she shouldn’t have been able to avoid it, considering how savvy she was overall. But I’m not sure either (even though, when the first tell-tale sign occurred, I immediately thought “something’s wrong here”), and I wouldn’t consider that as “too stupid to live” syndrome in any case.

The main female characters in general did what they could with what they had. It may not have been much, but when they had an opportunity to do something (try to escape, help each other, try to hurt the culprit…), they seized it. That it worked or not didn’t matter: they still tried, even though their trials were a very dire ones and they could’ve given up a long time ago. Each of them turned out strong in her own way, fighting until the end.

The plot itself moved at a fast enough pace, with a lot of suspense. Some events that appeared as strange actually made a lot of sense a couple of chapters later, and I liked how the author managed to “trap” me here the same way he did the characters. It was an interesting process to go through.

On the downside, I found the narrative a bit disjointed at times, as if it was trying to get faster to the next part, with the seams somewhat forgotten along the way. The writing style felt the same in a few places. Nothing terribly annoying, but still enough that I noticed it. I also wished it dealt more with Olivia’s actions: what exactly happened to make her go from volunteering to the underworld? (Obviously she was in for the money for a reason I won’t spoil, obviously she didn’t choose to be picked by the Webmaster, and was no doubt abducted, but while we’re given clear reasons about Rachel’s behaviour leading her exactly in the same situation—she was investigating and looking for her sister, after all—Olivia’s were more muddled. As if there was another, hiden reason that was never revealed. It may be a false impression on my part, only considering all the trouble Rachel went through, I definitely would’ve wanted to learn more.)

Yzabel / October 10, 2014

Review: Jackaby

Jackaby by William Ritter

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Miss Rook, I am not an occultist,” Jackaby said. “I have a gift that allows me to see truth where others see the illusion–and there are many illusions. All the world’s a stage, as they say, and I seem to have the only seat in the house with a view behind the curtain.”

Newly arrived in New Fiddleham, New England, 1892, and in need of a job, Abigail Rook meets R. F. Jackaby, an investigator of the unexplained with a keen eye for the extraordinary–including the ability to see supernatural beings. Abigail has a gift for noticing ordinary but important details, which makes her perfect for the position of Jackaby’s assistant. On her first day, Abigail finds herself in the midst of a thrilling case: A serial killer is on the loose. The police are convinced it’s an ordinary villain, but Jackaby is certain it’s a nonhuman creature, whose existence the police–with the exception of a handsome young detective named Charlie Cane–deny.

Review:

(I received a copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I must say something, first, about those “X meets Y” comparisons: publishers, don’t do that. Please. Just don’t. Because while it makes you feel that it’s attracting more readers, the truth is that at least half the time, your people get it wrong, and it doesn’t do good to the book in the long run. Please let books rest on their own merits. Because this one has merits nonetheless, in spite of the misguided attempt to market it as something it isn’t really.

I found myself enjoying this novel for its humour:

“There’s a jar in my office marked ‘Bail.’ If you don’t hear from me by tonight, just bring it down to the Mason street Station, would you? I’m usually in the first or second cell.”

And how it wove supernatural elements (notably fairies) into its narrative. Although some of those occurrences were somewhat predictable, it was the kind of predictable that I wanted to see, that I expected, and that made me smile, not roll my eyes.

Abigail was an enjoyable narrator, somewhat passive at times, but more in a way that involved her getting used to her new situation—and then getting her voice and own wishes heard, rather than accept to remain in the background like a prim and proper lady. While she was a klutz at times, she also acknowledged it with humour, and struck me as a character with room to grow into a strong protagonist. She started off traveling after committing what one might deem a silly youthful mistake, but it’s a mistake I couldn’t really blame her for, because she made it wishing to take her life into her own hands, not remaining hidden behind petticoats.

Jackaby is a very quirky character, one that has a lot of strengths, especially when it comes to perceiving the unseen, the hidden world behind our world, and to act upon such knowledge… with a bit of wit he’s not aware of:

“I assure you, I am a consummate professional. I do not cast spells!”

Yet he isn’t perfect, and can definitely do with an assistant who’ll pay attention to more mundane things. I thought he and Abigail completed each other quite nicely in that regard—and, just as important to me, they weren’t thrown into some immediate romance subplot (I hope they’ll never be). Granted, there is a bit of a romantic interest in the novel, only directed towards another character, and without obfuscating the plot. In such a novel, it would just have damaged everything; I really appreciate that the romance trope wasn’t given more sway in here.

The mystery wasn’t too difficult to solve—I started suspecting who the culprit was early enough—but the dialogue lines, Abigail’s narrative and the secondary characters were interesting and pleasant to read about.

Yzabel / September 14, 2014

Review: Two Hundred and Twenty-One Baker Streets

Two Hundred and Twenty-One Baker Streets: An Anthology of Holmesian Tales Across Time and Space by David Thomas Moore

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

The world’s most famous detective, as you’ve never seen him before! This is a collection of orginal short stories finding Holmes and Watson in times and places you would never have expected!

A dozen established and up-and-coming authors invite you to view Doyle’s greatest creation through a decidedly cracked lens.

Read about Holmes and Watson through time and space, as they tackle a witch-trial in seventeenth century Scotland, bandy words with Andy Warhol in 1970s New York, travel the Wild Frontier in the Old West, solve future crimes in a world of robots and even cross paths with a young Elvis Presley…

Set to include stories by Kasey Lansdale, Guy Adams, Jamie Wyman, J E Cohen, Gini Koch, Glen Mehn, Kelly Hale, Kaaron Warren, Emma Newman and more.

Review:

(I received an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars.

Like most anthologies, this one included interesting stories, and others that didn’t impress me much.

It focuses not on the Sherlock Holmes we know, but on other approaches, such as Holmes and Watson in the 70s, or as teenage girls, or in a China-like land of magic. This definitely stretches the canon pretty far, but also allows for something different. I’m quite an avid reader of Doyle’s original stories, and I’m always of a mixed opinion regarding that kind of approach: part of me wants to see what else can be done, in alternative universes, while another part always remains wary of what is going to be done to “my” Holmes, because past some point, it’s not really Holmes & Watson anymore. I’d deem myself as straddling the fence here.

Mostly I found this collection ranging from average to good, nothing abysmal or excellent. One thing I appreciated here, though, is the way Watson was handled: like a valuable partner to Holmes. I’ve always disliked when he was shown as a bumbling idiot (which he is really far from being); I didn’t get that feeling here. Whether as a drug-dealer in the 60s’ New york City or as a magician at the court of a powerful lord, Watson (or Jane, or Wu Tsan…) wasn’t some of comic relief, but a character in his/her own right.

On the other hand, for an anthology that wanted itself different, sometimes I thought it could’ve carried things just a tad bit further, for instance by playing more on the female!Holmes or female!Watson variation, or by exploring other venues than London or the United States, which were often used. Another gripe would be that the mysteries in some of the stories weren’t so interesting; a couple of them didn’t even have Sherlock solve something.

The ones I liked:

The Final Conjuration, in which “Wu Tsan” the magician summons a demon called “The Sherlock” to help him investigate the mysterious death of one of the Seven Wizards of his country. The twist at the end definitely made me grin. Clever, clever Holmes.
Parallels, in which “Jane” writes AU Sherlock/Holmes fanfiction she doesn’t want her best friend “Charlotte” to see. Nothing really unexpected here, but I have a weak spot for stories that play on tropes, web communities, fanfiction, and/or hint to other books or series. Charlotte also mirrored well enough Holmes’s sometimes devious ways of causing clues to pop up.
A Woman’s Place also caught my attention for the way it plays on Mrs. Hudson’s role as someone who’s always here to listen to conversations if she so decides, and why she does it.
Half There/All There if you have at least some knowledge of the 60s’ scene and like reading about it, and for its exploration of Watson and Holmes’s potential relationshop.
The Innocent Icarus is interesting as well for its worldbuilding: a Victorian setting in which everybody has some kind of special power, and that allows for another type of questioning (i.e. the different reactions of people who’re born without powers).

It’s not the best anthology I’ve ever read, and it might deter a reader who’s not at ease with stories sometimes veering towards the bizarre and nonsensical, but overall, it was still a pleasant enough read.

Yzabel / September 12, 2014

The Thief Taker

The Thief Taker by C.S. Quinn

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

The year is 1665. Black Death ravages London. A killer stalks the streets in a plague doctor’s hood and mask…

When a girl is gruesomely murdered, thief taker Charlie Tuesday reluctantly agrees to take on the case. But the horrific remains tell him this is no isolated death. The killer’s mad appetites are part of a master plan that could destroy London – and reveal the dark secrets of Charlie’s own past.

Now the thief taker must find this murderous mastermind before the plague obliterates the evidence street by street. This terrifying pursuit will take Charlie deep into the black underbelly of old London, where alchemy, witchcraft and blood-spells collide.

In a city drowned in darkness, death could be the most powerful magic of all.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

When it comes to knowing whether you liked a book or not, some are really hard to place. This novel is one of those.

I really liked its atmosphere: London in 1665, the way its streets and buildings were depicted, how travelling from one place to another was so much different from what we know today, the many people we get to see, all both divided and united in a common fear. The plague is raging, and everyone wants out… or tries to do with what they have, including remedies and protective measures that we would definitely find stupid today, but that must have made sense at some point. The illness is sometimes depicted in really gruesome ways, and it helps enforcing the constant fear, the terror as soon as someone realises his spouse or her friend is developing “plague tokens”. The description of the plague doctor was also very vivd, instilling dread as soon as he appeared.

The interactions between Charlie and Anna-Maria were quite funny at times—he the boy left in an orphanage and proficient in the ways of the street, she a young woman with the manners and expectations of someone born in a good, though impoverished family. At first, I had my fears that
she would be a dead weight, but fortunately she proved she had resources of her own when it came to improvising and remaining strong throughout their journey to find who killed her sister.

However, I thought the plot on too many convenient occurrences (that happened by chance, and not because Charlie or Maria already had the relationships or resources needed). For instance, a character who discovered one of the victims’ corpses later appears to work for another character that Charlie happens to know, and is also a relation of yet another character that Charlie also happens to know. All right, a lot of people had either fled or died from the plague, but surely the world can’t be such a small place all the time? I would have accepted those coincidences easily if they had been of Charlie’s making, but here they were too much on the deus ex machina side.

I also found the last chapters to be a muddle of sorts. Some things happened, yet when I thought about them, I realised that I didn’t see them actually happen in a chapter, and that there logically wouldn’t have had time for them to happen; the narrative should have shown them to the reader, at least. Revelations about the real identity of the murderer left me wondering if I had completely missed something, or if it was just confusing. Same with how everyone was related within the plot. I felt as if everything was dumped on me all at once, too abruptly, and in a way
that didn’t always make sense.

Finally, I wished a few more elements had been explained. What of Charlie’s brother? What secrets did the papers hold? Was there actually some intriguing at the Court, considering how many hints were dropped that the King knew something, or that some of the people close to him were involved in some conspiracy? (Unless this book is the beginning of a series, in which case such information may be revealed in the next installment, but I’m not so sure about that.)

Conclusion: I really liked the depiction of plague-ravaged London in the 17th century, but the plot didn’t cut it so much for me in the end. 2.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 15, 2014

Review: Dear Daughter

Dear Daughter by Elizabeth Little

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

‘As soon as they processed my release Noah and I hit the ground running. A change of clothes. A wig. An inconspicuous sedan. We doubled back once, twice, then drove south when we were really headed east. In San Francisco we had a girl who looked like me board a plane to Hawaii.

Oh, I thought I was so clever.

But you probably already know that I’m not.’

LA IT girl Janie Jenkins has it all. The looks, the brains, the connections. The criminal record.

Ten years ago, in a trial that transfixed America, Janie was convicted of murdering her mother. Now she’s been released on a technicality she’s determined to unravel the mystery of her mother’s last words, words that send her to a tiny town in the very back of beyond. But with the whole of America’s media on her tail, convinced she’s literally got away with murder, she has to do everything she can to throw her pursuers off the scent.

She knows she really didn’t like her mother. Could she have killed her?

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Dear Daughter was a compelling enough story, but I admit I thought I’d like it more. There were several moments in which the pace dragged down and the story didn’t seem to progress much, and the characters didn’t exactly “fill” those moments either.

Though Jane Jenkins isn’t exactly a likeable protagonist, because of her demeaning attitude, I still liked her in general: she calls other people on their crap, sure, but she does the same when she’s concerned, which is enough of a redeeming feature in my eyes. I can’t say I smiled at all her quips (some were really not great); nevertheless, she was mildly amusing. Also, I tend to appreciate characters that aren’t necessarily nice and kind. Jane had her manipulative streak, tempered by the fact she had been in prison for ten years, and sometimes this made her a little rusty, thus not perfect at her own game. Sometimes, she was clever. At other times, she realised she had made some huge blunder… and she considered it as her own, not pinning it down on someone else, even though her tone might make it appear so.

The Ardelle setting was interesting, too: derelict twin little towns, founded during the Gold Rush yet doomed to die with it, with five old families pretending that everything was nice and dandy, except every closet has its skeleton, of course. I could feel the desperate “I hate this place, but I still can’t leave” atmosphere. No matter what, I wanted to read about them, be on the ride with Jane as she uncovered bit by bit who they were, their relationships, and how they may have factored in her mother’s death.

The mixed media approach, with snippets from blogs, Wikipedia, etc.: I like this format, though I can’t tell all of those excerpts always added a lot to the story.

On the dowside, at times the secondary characters just seemed too helpful for the sake of being helpful. Jane’s identity as “Rebecca” may have fooled them, sure, but it wasn’t so perfect, and I would have expected more ruthlessness, more distrust than what was shown, more tension, in a way. Even the cop’s presence didn’t make things that exciting (also, random vague love/sex interest that wasn’t really interesting in my opinion).

I found the plot to be dragging far-fetched and flimsy in places. The clue to Ardelle/Adeline was a rather light one, and I would have found it more believable if Jane had had just a couple more hints about it, thus justifying more strongly her going there. I was given the impression that some huge secret loomed above the town, yet in the end, the aforementioned skeletons were rather… bland, and not so unexpected. This was a bit of a letdown for me. I think the most problematic part, though, was Jane’s own lack of certainty regarding her mother’s murderer: she never appeared as so stoned/drunk/whatever as to prove to me she may genuinely not remember. I don’t know, but the mere adrenaline shot of murdering my mother would most certainly put me out of any drunken stupor I might be in. Either you know or you don’t, and in this case, the mystery of “did she or didn’t she?” seemed like an unfounded device.

The ending… I don’t know about the ending. Somehow, it fits bith the narrative’s tone, yet it made me fell “so, she did all of this for that?” Not very satisfying here.

This novel had its strong points, and my liking Jane’s narative voice helped a lot in my enjoyment of it. Nevertheless, I’m putting it in the “OK-to-good” category, not more.

Yzabel / May 26, 2014

Review: The Butcher

The Butcher by Jennifer Hillier

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

A rash of grisly serial murders plagued Seattle until the infamous “Beacon Hill Butcher” was finally hunted down and killed by police chief Edward Shank in 1985. Now, some thirty years later, Shank, retired and widowed, is giving up his large rambling Victorian house to his grandson Matt, whom he helped raise.

Settling back into his childhood home and doing some renovations in the backyard to make the house feel like his own, Matt, a young up-and-coming chef and restaurateur, stumbles upon a locked crate he’s never seen before. Curious, he picks the padlock and makes a discovery so gruesome it will forever haunt him… Faced with this deep dark family secret, Matt must decide whether to keep what he knows buried in the past, go to the police, or take matters into his own hands.

Meanwhile Matt’s girlfriend, Sam, has always suspected that her mother was murdered by the Beacon Hill Butcher—two years after the supposed Butcher was gunned down. As she pursues leads that will prove her right, Sam heads right into the path of Matt’s terrible secret.

A thriller with taut, fast-paced suspense, and twists around every corner, The Butcher will keep you guessing until the bitter, bloody end.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. Quotes liable to change upon publishing.)

From now on, I’m going to maintain that this book was classified in the wrong genre.

Let’s be upfront: as a thriller, I’m giving it 2 stars, and that’s being kind. It didn’t keep me on the seat of my edge. It didn’t give me, well, the thrills. The mystery wasn’t so well-done, and rested upon a lot of coincidences, such as people stumbling upon others in the middle of a conversation. I see what the author did here: revealing who the killer is in the beginning (seriously, you know who it is in chapter 1), and stressing the “why”, “how” and “will they take the fallout” aspects, rather than the “whodunnit” one; I’m not sure it worked properly, though. It may have worked better for me if the characters had been deeper, psychologically-speaking; their psyches were touched upon, sure, but not enough to offset the fact that without a whodunnit, it wasn’t exactly the same. Readers looking for that may not find this book to their liking.

But as a work of dark, dark humour? As a dark, twisted comedy? 4 stars.

This novel took whatever disgusting things were in me and brought them to the light. At least, I think it did, since I found myself snickering and even laughing more than once. It’s like watching a trainwreck: you’re feeling horrible for doing so, but you can’t help keep staring. It was the same thing here.

Graphic, violent, sexualised killings. The male protagonist is a sociopath. The world revolves around himsel, and it’s the most natural thing, and don’t you dare act otherwise. He feels bad about someone dying, but not because the person died: because it might impact his success as a restaurateur and chef. The male deuteragonist is a psychopath with a steely, condescending opinion on people on general and women in particular. The girl tries to make sense of it all, the cops try to make sense of it all, to no avail. Other women get killed. And yet. Yet, it’s funny. If it was made into a movie, I’d place it along “Burn After Reading” on my shelf. Think “what the hell just happened here, and why are all those guys dead?” funny. Or: “Oh, so they found the corpses of the Bay Harbour Butcher’s victims… Wait, I’m the Butcher!” funny. If you snickered at Dexter trying to help the police catch the aforementioned Bay Harbour Butcher, fully knowing he’s trying to catch himself, and has to sabotage the whole thing so that he can escape—cue in mistakes he barely manages to cover—then, yes, this novel may be for you.

It was the same here.

In fact, “The Clusterfuck” would make a perfect alternate title for this novel.

What happens when you accidentally kill a guy, ask help from the one person whom you know is worse than you, and that person tells you to take the body out of the dumpster?

“Okay, I’ll try.” He took a deep breath and tried not to think about his aching back. “But my back really hurts—”
“Fuck your back,” Edward barked. “If you’re standing, it’s not broken. This is your ass on the line and right now tipping the goddamned dumpster is the only option we got. You want to get the body out or not?”
“Yes, Chief.”
“Then do what the fuck I say.”

Indeed, son. The garbage men will be here in four hours, so stuff cut the I-hurt-my-back whining. This is Bumbling Serial Killer 101 for you.

He knew they wouldn’t be able to save him. One hundred milligrams of Viagra combined with all the medications for his heart and blood pressure that he was already taking… the old guy didn’t stand a chance.

Retirement communities for active seniors? Oh, gee, everybody knows those are places where residents keep humping each other, and the nurses really aren’t surprised to find old guys overdosing on Viagra. Poisoned? The third death in two weeks? A killer? Here? Nah. It’s all Viagra’s fault.

I’ll let you imagine what happens when the girl, convinced that her boyfriend’s cheating on her, tries to catch him in the act.

So I laughed. And it was horrible, because people were dying in this novel, and the killer remained on the loose, unsuspected. Worse, everybody and their dog came to him for advice. Cosmic irony to the power of ten. Since the characters were not developed deep enough, it paradoxically put them in the roles of unwilling puppets, thrown into a series of coincidences, fuck-ups, and situations that make you facepalm because you just know how it’s going to end, and it’s going to suck for them, but you’re going to chuckle anyway. Horrible, horrible readers that we are.

As a real, serious thriller, I think this novel fails flat.

As dark, partly slapstick half-comedy, it works. I liked it. I did.

And I still think it should be marketed as so.

Yzabel / May 3, 2014

Review: Prep School Confidential

Prep School Confidential by Kara Taylor

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

In this breathtaking debut that reads like Gossip Girl crossed with Twin Peaks, a Queen Bee at a blue-blooded New England prep school stumbles into a murder mystery.

Anne Dowling practically runs her exclusive academy on New York’s Upper East Side—that is, until she accidentally burns part of it down and gets sent to a prestigious boarding school outside of Boston. Determined to make it back to New York, Anne could care less about making friends at the preppy Wheatley School. That is, until her roommate Isabella’s body is found in the woods behind the school.

When everyone else is oddly silent, Anne becomes determined to uncover the truth no matter how many rules she has to break to do it. With the help of Isabella’s twin brother Anthony, and a cute classmate named Brent, Anne discovers that Isabella wasn’t quite the innocent nerdy girl she pretended to be. But someone will do anything to stop Anne’s snooping in this fast-paced, unputdownable read—even if it means framing her for Isabella’s murder.

Review:

A fast and fun read, and also one that kept me on the edge of my seat—the mystery part was well-done in my opinion, enough that I had my suspicions about a potential culprit, but without seeing it coming too easily.

I have a soft spot for boarding schools. I don’t know why. Perhaps because I’ve always wondered in hindsight if I wouldn’t have felt better in such a school as a teen? (Not necessarily a posh prep school. Just a school where I could be away from my family and experience things in a different way. As a university student, anyway, I was the kind of person who loved eating breakfast with others, spending time in each other’s rooms, and various dorm activities.) So, boarding schools often tend to grab my interest for their closed community aspect, and for the closed setting they provide, too. You can’t just walk away and ignore whatever problem happens there: you have to face it, whether the problem is gossip or a murder.

I didn’t really like Anne in the very first chapters. She came off as a snotty brat, the kind of girl who knew she’d get away with everything just by batting her eyelashes, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, and by basically “being her”. Then she grew on me (and not like mildew). All in all, she was likeable. She had that ability to make people gravitate around her, but not in a condescending, Mean Girl way, which I something I can appreciate. No slut-shaming here, no attempts to make others look bad; when she refused to take crap, she did it in a direct, not a passive-aggressive way (often involving snark and sarcasm, but not underhanded). She wasn’t perfect, and just like so many people, she tended to judge others on first impressions—yet she also did it on actions, and was able to revise her judgment when it appeared she was wrong. The potential for snotty, woe-is-me attitude went away quickly enough to my liking. Although Anne didn’t want to stay at Wheatley, she acknowledged she hadn’t much choice in the matter, so might as well do with it in the meantime.

Other characters were handled in believable ways. I wondered sometimes why the arson story wasn’t thrown in her face more often, because it definitely could’ve been, especially by the characters who didn’t like Anne; on the other hand, I also didn’t find it too surprising that, considering her way of handling things, such a “rumour” wouldn’t have looked like what would hurt her the most, and made her appear like the mysterious, dangerous, yet oddly attractive kid. The main Mean Girl character wasn’t as cliché as I thought at first; even though I couldn’t bring myself to like her, at least she had circumstances of her own. As for other high school clichés, they were nicely toyed with, and I didn’t feel them as heavy as they did in other similar works I read in the past.

The romance part didn’t really work for me. Fortunately, it never detracted from the story, never took precedence over the actual plot (investigation/murder), and I was very grateful for that. Only I just didn’t care much for it.

I also questioned some choices on Anne’s part at times. Mostly she came off as sensible, knowing she could end up in dangerous situations and preparing herself in case of. However, there were a few moments when I wondered if she wasn’t too trusting of some people, in a setting where “trust no one” should’ve been a definite rule. I found this a little jarring, especially considering how she used people in general. (I don’t mind the “use others” attitude in a place where everyone could potentially be a murderer, or at least someone with dirty secrets and a tendency to use their parents’ money to become a problem to you; that was sort of logical. But if you do that, don’t tell all your plans to some of those people either. Even though Anne investigating completely on her own wouldn’t have been too interesting, I suppose.)

This set aside, I really liked this story, and will likely pick the next book… because we’re clearly not done yet with the many skeletons in Wheatley’s many closets.

Yzabel / November 20, 2012

Review: Darkly Dreaming Dexter

Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Meet Dexter Morgan, a polite wolf in sheep’s clothing. He’s handsome and charming, but something in his past has made him abide by a different set of rules. He’s a serial killer whose one golden rule makes him immensely likeable: he only kills bad people. And his job as a blood splatter expert for the Miami police department puts him in the perfect position to identify his victims. But when a series of brutal murders bearing a striking similarity to his own style start turning up, Dexter is caught between being flattered and being frightened-of himself or some other fiend.

Review:

I really liked the TV series (especially the first two seasons), and so I wanted to read the book that spawned it. And I must say it’s one of those rare cases when I actually liked the TV adaptation more than the original.

I’m not even sure I’d have liked the book more if I had never watched the Showtime series first. While the idea behind it–a serial killer working for the police force, and focusing his killing urges on murderers only, on people who sort of ‘deserve to die’–appealed to me, if only out of curiosity, I found the execution and writing quite poor. Dexter’s tone as he tells his story isn’t so witty as condescending, and too often I felt that the events were told rather than shown.

I had a hard time with the portrayal of Deborah, Angel, Doakes and other characters: too often they just seemed to be here to add people to the story, but things wouldn’t have been much different hadn’t they been there. I thought they deserved to be given more room, and more credit: mostly the Miami police is described as a bunch of idiots absolutely unable to do anything, which is rather hard to believe.

The events, too, unfold in a bizarre way, and Dexter’s dreams looked too much like an easy way to get to the ending. There didn’t seem to be any real police work involved, and too many chance encounters/conveniently placed hints packaged in dreams. I expected more from this book in that regard, more investigation on the part of the characters, and not what felt like a series of deus ex machina.

Once again, I admit that having watched the TV series first probably influenced me a lot; but the flaws I perceived in this novel would’ve stood out for me anyway. It’s an easy read, perfect to keep you busy for a few hours, without having to think much; however, if you really want to enjoy such a story, my honest opinion is that you watch the show instead. The characters in it are better developed, and the various steps of the investigation much more believable (and present!).