Trust No One by James Rollins
James Rollins blazes new territory in his sizzlingly effective Trust No One, a tale in which the members of his stalwart Sigma Force are nowhere to be found.
Instead, we’re treated to a mystery rooted in mysticism on a British college campus when a popular professor is murdered and his graduate students head up the list of the usual suspects. That murder appears somehow rooted in a book that’s a mystery in its own right, a one-of-a-kind handwritten tome that may or may not unlock the secrets to immortality. Although there are no heroes to match the likes of Gray Pierce and his team, a pair of students, Sharynn Karr and Duncan Maxwell respectively, stake able claim to center stage in a whirlwind plot that sends them on the run from dark, deadly forces, even as they crisscross Europe in search of elusive truth and a world-changing discovery.
As much as I enjoy the Sigma Force series, it was great to see Rollins operating on a smaller tableau with comparable stakes and wondrously speculative overtones. His pacing is pitch perfect and his young heroes are every bit up to the task of becoming successors to Dan Brown’s Robert Langdon. Trust me when I tell you Trust No One is an extraordinary, pitch-perfect thriller you won’t be able to put down.
Antihero: An Orphan X Novel by Gregg Hurwitz
In contrast to James Rollins, Gregg Hurwitz sticks with the tried and true in his latest Orphan X series entry, Antihero, to sensational results.
That’s because we’re treated to two stories in one which compliment other perfectly since they highlight the dual sides of Evan Smoak. Smoak, the actual Orphan X of the series brand since he was born and bred to be a killer, remains on a quest for redemption. But he’s tempered that in favor of hiring himself to protect those who need, and can afford, his services and expertise. Hey, only Jack Reacher can manage this kind of thing without a job. Speaking of Reacher, after flying out to intervene in a uber-powerful client’s psychological morass, Smoak ends up randomly involved in a young woman’s brutal disappearance, a young woman with no resources in stark contrast to Smoak’s client. Not that it stops him from getting involved and going full Orphan X on the bad guys.
Smoak has indeed become Jack Reacher, only with a real life outside of his random stops along the way. But Antihero serves up a more contemplative Smoak, though no less tame. The action as always is second to none, but it’s the more interpersonal reflections that make this a truly outstanding, if not groundbreaking, fictional feat.
Served Him Right by Lisa Unger
Nobody writes psychological thrillers better than Lisa Unger and the reasons why are all on display in her latest deviously dark tale Served Him Right, which finds Unger at her twisty-turny best.
Ana Blacksmith is out celebrating a breakup with her cheating boyfriend with her sister and friends. Talk about the perfect setting for Ana to get the news that her philandering ex has truly gotten what’s coming to him. Too bad she emerges as the primary suspect, the celebratory lunch not making for much of an alibi. It’s left to Ana and her sister Vera to smoke out the real culprit, unearthing as many skeletons in their collective closet, as Ana’s ex had tucked away in his.
Served Him Right, at heart, is a masterful puzzle Unger provides multiple views of to help us put together. The prose crackles with authenticity, the cadence and tone changing with each narrator’s shifting POV. It’s a slow burn, but the fiery blast of revelation at the end makes it well worth the wait.
The Hadacol Boogie by James Lee Burke
Outside of major holidays and birthdays, there are few occasions more momentous than the release of a new Dave Robicheaux novel by James Lee Burke. It’s been a few years since we last greeted our old friend, which makes The Hadacol Boogie hitting bookstores all the more welcome.
And it doesn’t disappoint. This time out, Robicheaux has a new partner in detective Valerie Benoit, a fellow traveler along life’s most challenging roads. But when the body of a dead woman is left on Dave’s doorstep by a hideously deformed man, it’s time for both of them to put their personal baggage aside and find the killer. That leads Dave, Valerie and the short-fused, crassly noble Clete Purcell to cross paths with all manner of miscreants and grotesques, as much on the inside as the out, even as they run afoul of hitmen and gangsters. Not to mention ghosts as unsettled as the living potentially prowling about.
The Hadacol Boogie is James Lee Burke at his level best. Maybe even better since he has gone full Southern gothic here to fabulous effect. His ear for pitch-perfect dialogue is brilliantly tuned, and his lyrical prose knows no rival in the mystery-thriller genre and beyond. In fact, it’s not hard to make the argument that Burke is America’s greatest novelist. Period.
Dollface by Lindy Ryan
It’s hard to classify Lindy Ryan’s Dollface, hard to tell whether it’s a send-up of cheap slasher movies or suburban society in general. Maybe both. Whatever you choose to call it, Ryan’s latest is as daring as it is a blast to read.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: A horror author moves to a new town in the affluent suburbs (New Jersey this time around) in the hopes of just fitting in. Pity poor Jill Marshall when a costume-masked serial killer begins carving up the moms she had hoped to bond with. Might Jill be somehow responsible for the killing spree? Is this sinisterly some ham-handed plot for her next book playing out in real time? Either way, she realizes she’d better use her particular set of skills in imagining such scenarios to stop this one before she becomes the next victim.
Dollface is riotous, ribald fun from beginning to end. A scathing satire that skewers suburban norms and mores where nobody notices the superficiality until it’s splattered with blood. The most apt comparison might be Your Friends and Neighbors, the terrific Jon Hamm show on Apple TV. That show portrayed the upper crust as dull, stale, entitled, and worthy of being victims of Ryan’s killer. We root for Hamm’s character, even though he’s stealing from his so-called friends. Come to think of it, we root for the psycho killer in Dollface because she’s putting her victims out of their misery. Call her string of murders mercy killings.
Dead First by Johnny Compton
If you prefer horror without the laughs, check out Johnny Compton’s Dead First, a rollicking gore fest with a killer (pun intended!) premise.
Howard Hughes-like reclusive billionaire Saxton Braith can’t die. That’s right. Nothing, apparently, can kill him which poses a unique problem — specifically, what’s he been doing for all these centuries? Answering that question is the task of private detective Shula Sinclair who, after being initially skeptical, realizes she is investigating something otherworldly and supernatural. And as the clues of Braith’s blood-soaked past begin to fall into place, Shula finds herself threatened by the very forces she has unleashed.
Dead First can best be described as a Frankenstein-esque tale, without lightning rods (well, except for one clear homage) and stitched-together corpses. It’s reminiscent of the great Robert R. McCammon’s work in the genre with just enough Stephen King (more his Richard Bachman alter ego, actually) thrown in for good measure. A blisteringly and bracingly original tale with prose that crackles with authenticity and self-discovery.
The Flack by Brad Parks
The monsters are wholly human in Brad Parks’ The Flack, a nightmarish tale of a different vintage entirely, in which Parks finds his footing even as he stakes out new ground.
Curt Hinton has barely settled into his new role as corporate communications chief at a northern California logistics company when the longtime friend who landed him the job is killed in a carjacking. Writing Angel Reddish’s obituary becomes his first assignment for Balco, during which it becomes clear the carjacking was targeted and his best friend was murdered to silence him. I’m not giving much away when I tell you the company itself has some skeletons in its closet, which start rattling around once Hinton launches his own investigation.
The Flack is post-modern noir at its level best. The first-person narrative crackles with staccato bursts and pointed observations worthy of Elmore Leonard and George Higgins. At its heart, Parks’ latest reads like a perfect blend of John Grisham’s The Firm with Jordan Harper’s fantastic Everybody Knows. Not to be missed.
