Noir seems like a lost genre these days
353721
I was sent an advanced copy of Every Giant Becomes a Monster by the publisher.  The back of the book calls it a "modern underground noir" which immediately excited me. Noir seems like a lost genre these days. The main character/narrator is Colson, a 19-year-old noise musician who by way of hopping trains from Los Angeles has found his way to a desert city in Arizona. I thought the author's choice to write Colson as noise musician was fascinating.  Noise music is not a common musical genre by any stretch so while I found it odd at first, it eventually made perfect sense as the book progressed, as the main character used it both as a weapon and as a source of self-therapy.

On his first night in this desert town of Flagtrapp, Arizona, Colson encounters a bartender named Donna which sets the stage for the rest of the story.  Early on in the book we find Colson in a bit of a sticky situation and Donna ends up helping him out.  Her Samaritan act leads to slight delusions by our main character and he finds himself in unfamiliar territory.  He isn't used to attractive women paying him much mind and it balloons into an all-out obsession. There is however one slight problem, in the form of an Iraqi war vet from the invasion of 2003. His name is Travis and he happens to be Donna's legal husband.  Returning to America in the mid 2000s without much hope and carrying a lot of baggage from his service has left him demoralized to say the least. He now lives on a steady diet of drugs, booze, and floozies, much to the chagrin of Donna. He also has a flair for violence, something he perhaps hasn't been able to shed after being trained as a killer by the Marines. It doesn't help matters that he is resentful and full of guilt for things he did and witnessed in the Middle East.  This only causes more pain which leads to swimming deeper in vices.

Early on we see that Travis and Colson find common ground in regards to music. One of the main settings of the book is a DIY, punk rock club in town that traveling musicians play shows at when passing through. Travis and Colson work on some music together, something Travis hadn't been too inspired about since returning from war, and spend time at The Cave, the aforementioned DIY punk venue.  What Travis doesn't yet know is that Colson has built up a rather large obsession with his wife Donna.  Without saying much, I will say that Travis isn't exactly the best husband so it comes as no surprise when Donna eventually warms up to Colson in a romantic way.

To leave it as open as possible, let's just say that things don't exactly go well when Travis finds out what Colson's actual intentions are. From that point on in the book we are taken on quite a ride. The book was impossible to put down from there. The thing I really enjoyed about it is that it felt as though I was right there. The author has a great writing style and really does an excellent job bringing the reader right into every scene. Descriptively, the writing was top notch. A scene surrounding a punk rock club in the middle of the desert isn't something your average person has experienced but I really felt like I had been there.

When I finished reading Every Giant Becomes a Monster I would say that my emotions had certainly run the gamut, something I gladly welcome when reading any book. If it's written well, our emotions should swing like a leaf falling in the wind, never certain of where it will land. It's nice to see something fresh written in this genre and I certainly look forward to seeing what this author does next.
4773031
Although I couldn't make it through Robert Coover's&nbsp;<a data-hook="product-link-linked" class="a-link-normal" href="/Pricksongs-Descants/dp/0802136672/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_txt?ie=UTF8">Pricksongs & Descants</a>, I later read and enjoyed the story THE CASE OF THE SEVERED HAND from the 2008 issue of HARPER'S MAGAZINE, and thought that maybe I'd given up on Mr. Coover too soon. I can't reference that particular story anymore, and I can't remember if it was an excerpt from this book or written especially for the magazine, but when I saw NOIR at a local library sale I thought I would give the author another try.

My first thought is that the experiment of examining the hard-boiled private-eye genre through the post-modernist lens works better as a short-story than a novel, even a short one at 192 pages. Really, though, I suppose that depends on what you are looking for when you read novels. Post-modernism is a form of entertainment that doesn't appeal to me as much as I once thought it should--after more experience with it I tend to think of it as indiscriminate in its targets and uninterested in how it scores its points. That doesn't keep me from trying again, now and then, to see if either it or I may have changed.

NOIR is a second-person account of Phillip Noir, detective, on the case of The Vanishing Black Widow. No need to worry much about the details--the point of the story isn't really so much about a convincing narrative as it is about shoehorning clever, witty and occasionally humorous wordplay and gumshoe parody into every conversation, every description. Ever see Daffy Duck as Duck Drake, Private Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat? Yeah, that's it, along with the vulgarity knob (at least in the beginning) turned up to eleven.

NOIR is a diversion, though whether it's a pleasant one or not will depend on personal preference. I'm not very enthused by it myself, but that stems more from ideological differences than anything else. Literature of this sort seems to be concerned with nothing other than deconstructing a staple of the culture for laughs. Similar to Mad Magazine--though Mr. Coover's work is far more clever. Which always reminds me of the conversation between Tyler Durden and Edward Norton's character in&nbsp;<a data-hook="product-link-linked" class="a-link-normal" href="/Fight-Club/dp/B001H1UQRI/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_txt?ie=UTF8">Fight Club</a>&nbsp;after the two have first met. Norton has just explained a private joke and Durden compliments him on his cleverness. 'How's that working out for you?' he asks.

'What?'

'Being clever.'

'Great.'

'Keep it up then... Right up.'
686377
One of the reasons I am working my way joyfully through all Robert Barnard's books is that he doesn't insert gratuitous scenes of sex and/or violence (emphasis on gratuitous).  His earlier books in particular concentrate on marvelous character development, literate and witty writing, and skewering the evil. shoddy, and pretentious.  The only added ingredient in this book of short stories is a very noir, occasionally grotesque, and, in one story, desperately sad and twisted slant on humanity.  The only story I would care to RE-read is "Post Mortem".
708807
Chase has a slight air of misogyny and sexism, popular for its time - written in 1972 - and felt like it was influenced by detective novels and early Stephen King. Many characters felt stereotyped and had a level of stupidity. Nowadays, Koontzs characters are much more complex, and objectification handled intelligently. But in revisiting Koontzs early works, it still stood up to giving me the hee-bee-gee-bees.
Chase was published under another name (K.R. Dwyer) when it was initially released.
Ben Chase is a medically discharged soldier tackling PTSD who happened across, and intervened in a murder at a local make-out/lookout point. Consequently, the killer gets away, and his attentions are turned onto Chase himself. The murderer, calling himself The Judge chooses his victims who he deems worthy of being judged and executed now The Judge has found Chase worthy of death from his past discretions.
There is play on whether Chase is imagining much of this predicament due to his mental condition, but I think it wasn't utilized enough in the story line and could have been executed better.
Introduction of Glenda, a love interest for Chase, humanized our protagonist and made the book immensely more enjoyable. I was beginning to dislike Chase somewhat and found him difficult to relate to (though I am not the demographic for this novel) and wish shed been introduced earlier to soften the rough edges, bringing some emotion in earlier to the plot line.
Maybe because Ive read widely in this genre for the past 30 years, and a considerable number of Koontzs later books, the plot was very predictable. It also failed to give me that shiver that I get from many of his titles. But for its lack in scare tactics, it makes up for in pacing - things amped up after the half way mark and I really started to enjoy Chase.
I can see precursors of elements that appear in his later novels, many of which are favorites (and have been turned into films) and how much Koontz has grown as a storyteller.
Id only recommend this for hard core Dean Koontz fans  the story is a little dated and generic. There are far more enjoyable titles in his current catalog. But I have to admit I reveled in the nostalgia, it reminded me of the television and movies of the early 80s

Spoilers:
A couple of points that I found distasteful, was the message that homosexuals are evil and pedophiles  a trend of the time before realizing its discriminatory nature. And Im not sure about the justified homicide angle, it was dark and trite. But thats just me and my opinion
1568565
Although often referred to as noir, Laura is really a romantic thriller.  I think devotees of the genre may enjoy this book but it generated no suspense for me and the dialogue seemed dated, but unlike Chandler for example, stiff and without the appeal that such language can have. It was interesting enough to finish, but I cannot think of anyone I would recommend it to.
339212
Why isn't Wallace Stroby at the airport-author level of success? Stroby's seventh novel, SOME DIE NAMELESS, is of a piece with his other six  a coolly moody, competent, confident piece of noir-infused crime fiction. Perhaps it's because its alienated and remote hero, former black-ops contractor Ray Devlin (in his mid-fifties and deeply averse to killing), its canny use of coastal Florida locales, and its cat's-paws light but lethal tread as a loner goes up against a politically connected crime conglomerate make it something of a throwback novel in a time when female-driven emotionally overripe psychological suspense dominates the crime-fiction world. Certainly, in my view, Stroby's work has strong echoes of past masters  there's a strong echo of John D. MacDonald's work here, and I was reminded of several Peter Abrahams novels of the late '80s, '90s and early 2000s. But if being slightly out of fashion is Stroby's crime, then may there be more criminals on the streets, as far as I'm concerned.

For all their old-school appeal, Stroby's novels  four of which center on professional thief Crissa Stone  excel at depicting female characters. One element of SOME DIE NAMELESS, a standalone novel, that is completely in harmony with today is in its canny depiction of today's craven, click-driven news organizations. Its finest POV voice is that of Tracy Quinn, a hard-charging, just old-enough-to-be-old-school investigative reporter whose managers don't know how to value her work because they're too fixated on the click-driven bottom line to fully appreciate how her work hews to the industry's afflict-the-comfortable, comfort-the-afflicted traditions. (Some of the most novel's most uncomfortably resonant scenes come from Tracy's dealings with an editor determined to bend her to the present-day newsroom paradigm under the guise of being a "team player" even as he disappears often during a given workday with his bag of golf clubs.) No surprise that Stroby nails these scenes, as he's a veteran newspaperman with a pragmatic eye on the present and an appropriate but unsticky reverence for newspapering's past.

Everything in SOME DIE NAMELESS just plain works. The pages fly but nothing  the characters, the plot, the cooled emotions  ever feels featherweight in Stroby's consummately professional hands. As with the best newspaper copy, there are no wasted words here. This novel is the best of all worlds  a fast-paced beach read with the subtle, lingering resonance of the smell of the sea. Stroby's novels aren't just great reads; they'e great RE-reads.
3787917
There comes a time when old writers should gently fade away rather than trying to breath new life into themes they've handled much better in earlier times.  R.I.P.
4117885
A few years ago a friend turned me onto Anita and the gang and I was head over heels in love.  The stories were fresh, fun, intriging and just a little bit naughty.  Currently the characters are mere shadows of there former selves.  I keep getting strung along with snipets of Mommy Noir and the old vamps only to be dragged thru bad story lines and poorly written porn.  Blood Noir comes off like a cheesy version of Dark Shadows meets Sex in the City.
What ever happened to character development, insightful flashbacks to the old ones.  I used to read Laurel K's books to wander in her lush imagination.  Now I'm looking for someone else to read.  This book was extremely diappointing.
3514493
It's a 1949 Chicago summer - sweltering and uncomfortable. Bill Sweeney has been mostly drunk for 2 weeks, living on park benches for half that time. You wouldn't guess, looking at him with his grungy suit and unshaven face, but he is a hard-hitting reporter for the twice-daily Blade.

But something is going to snap him out of it. What Sweeney sees is a glass door leading into an apartment building. No one can open the door because a huge yellow-eyed dog - almost a wolf - is guarding the door. And behind the dog, lying on the floor, is a beautiful blonde in an evening dress. When she pulls herself up, the spectators see that she's bleeding from a knife line across her stomach. And should I repeat that she is beautiful? Especially when the dress falls away from her. Sweeney decides right there and then, he's going to meet her, and bed her, and protect her. Just after he cleans himself up and calls in the story of the beauty and the beast.

It would be a great front-pager on its own, but its more than that. Because this was to be the 3rd murder in 2 weeks by The Ripper  a slasher who goes after only young blonde women. And this is the first time he was unsuccessful. In order to protect the beauty, Sweeney needs to find the Ripper.

I very much enjoyed Screaming Mimi. It is an updated noir (updated to 1949, that is). Im usually not one for that style, but good writing can transcend genre, and this is a good writing, if a bit melodramatic by todays standards. Theres noir jargon, such as a fin = $5 bill, double saw = $20, hot squat = electric chair and harness bull = beat cop. And, in 1949, $5 bought you a fancy silk neck tie.

Fredric Brown paints fantastic character portraits: The eyes behind the thick glasses managed to look both vacant and deadly. They looked like a reptiles eyes, magnified a hundred-fold, and you expected a nictitating membrane to close across them.

And theres humor, mostly sly: And you say yourself that threats would be as futile as pointing out to me the futility of what you seem convinced I have in mind.

The main objection to the story is unfortunate language used to refer to a gay minor character. I first looked for a Fredrich March novel when his book, "The Fabulous Clipjoint"  was recommended in&nbsp;<a data-hook="product-link-linked" class="a-link-normal" href="/Black-Lizard-Big-Book-of-Locked-Room-Mysteries/dp/0307743969/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_txt?ie=UTF8">Black Lizard Big Book of Locked Room Mysteries</a>, a 5-star anthology.

Overall, "The Screaming Mimi" is 4.5 stars for me, rounded up to 5.

"A guy can get anything he wants. If he wants it bad enough."

Happy Reader
4037569
***Mild Spoilers***

As a reader who buys Gene Wolfe books sight unseen before publication, naturally, A Borrowed Man magically showed up on release date. As with any Wolfe novel, you have to measure it before you read it. It took me several months to measure it and then I read it.

A Borrowed Man occupies the Wolfe shelf in my mind that I call "Wolfe Mysteries," "Mysteries" being the more prosaic definition of the term as used in literature. Like Free Live Free, Castleview, There Are Doors, and The Sorcerer's House, even The Land Across, A Borrowed Man is a mystery and/or detective novel. Of course, what Wolfe detects in these novels and the detectives he employs are decidedly different than your Raymond Chandler pulps, but it does seem to be a trope Wolfe feels comfortable with.

A Borrowed Man is perhaps an even more direct reflection of this trope, as the protagonist is a revivified clone of a 21st century detective novelist and made available for "check out" at libraries in a 22nd century version of the USA.  Of course, the mystery at hand involves a beautiful, enigmatic heiress who checks him out to help her solve a not so normal slice-and-dump. This is Gene Wolfe, after all.

Having said that, the arc, tone, and structure, is old-school and perhaps that's what put me off. I'd really like to rate this 3 1/2 stars, but the extra half goes to Wolfe on general principle. As with almost all Wolfe books, I'll need to re-read it to catch what I missed just following the story arc, but that may take a while, as the trope is, to me, off-putting. Additionally, he utilizes a narrative trick where the narrator's own voice and usage is at odds with the character he created for his pulp detective stories. I see what Wolfe is trying to do, but, to me, it is rarely successful.

I suppose one could characterize ALL Wolfe books as mysteries, but the approaches differ. The Book of the New Sun was so fabulous because of Severian, the unreliable narrator, and the manifold mysteries he discovers, solves (rightly or wrongly), and the implications of the denouement. I also enjoyed the Soldier series, with the incredible backdrop of ancient Greece, and felt that the third volume, A Soldier of Sidon, was one of Wolfe's very best novels ever. I also dearly love On Blue's Waters, the first book in the so-called Short Sun series, because of its elegiac and expansive voice, perhaps the most personal novel Wolfe has ever written.

For newcomers to Wolfe, particularly if they have heard of all the praise--rightly--heaped upon the writer's oeuvre, A Borrowed Man would leave them wondering what all the fuss was about. With Wolfe, one really should start at the beginning with The Fifth Head of Cerberus, then The Book of the New Sun. After avidly re-reading and soaking in those volumes, you can appreciate Wolfe's prowess much more acutely with his more intimately constructed books. Also, grab any of his short fiction collections (i.e., Endangered Species) because short forms concentrate and bring out his marvelous storytelling skills.
4953777
It's been a while since I read a PI hard boiled detective book that caught me up so completely.  The usual cast of noir characters are here:cranky, maybe senile client (with a past), a crazy Mafia enforcer, Yakuza, the sweet young thing who is the light of the detective's life, drugs and Mexican cartels and all clash over a vinyl recording made by Frank Sinatra.

While it is definitely in the Philip Marlowe genre, HOT SINATRA also showed flashes of Burn Notice.  Which is not a bad thing at all.
3406189
What is The New Black? Its not only the name of the book, but also a genre in itself. New Black, or neo-noir, is ostensibly what noir literature has evolved into over many years and many stories. I say ostensibly because after Laird Barrons foreword and Richard Thomas introduction, the definition, if there can be one, remains nebulous. As Barron points out, neo-noir simply means dark fiction, and even within that niche, theres a hell of a lot of territory to cover. Youll find horror between these pages, but youll also find elements of many other genres, some of which may come as a surprise. Classification issues aside, The New Black is simply an extraordinary collection of fiction.

An aging boxer strives to assuage one type of pain with another in Craig Davidsons Rust and Bone, a hard-hitting story of crippling guilt and atonement in the ring.

Micaela Morissettes The Familiars straddles the line between magical realism and supernatural horror. An imaginary friend comes of age along with its companion, bringing to light the darkness lurking on the edges of childhood fancy.

Roy Keseys absurd yet emotive Instituto asks what perfection is, explores the possibility of attaining it at a price, and explores the relation between physical scars and the memories attached to them.

The unreliable narrator of Benjamin Percys Dial Tone struggles to make sense of his seemingly dull life, in a sort of reverse murder mystery that delves into the aimlessness and alienation of the digital age. An unorthodox haunting overshadows the proceedings.

With Its Against the Law to Feed the Ducks, Paul Tremblay brings an understated take on post-apocalyptic literature. This story, viewed through the eyes of a child, is all the more emotionally potent for the illusion of normalcy the family strives to maintain.

These are by no means highlights. Richard Thomas has drawn together an astonishing array of talent, and this is the rare collection in which every story is a highlight in its own way. Its stories adeptly bridge the divide between genre and literary, becoming a hybrid that any reader of fiction will appreciate. This is a book for fans of writers as diverse as Stephen King, Jos Saramago, Alice Munro, Gary Braunbeck, and Flannery OConnor. In many of the stories, characters internal lives are comprehensively revealed within the framework of heavily plot-driven narratives. Dark shadows loom and the occasional viscera glistens, while between the lines a far different tale unfolds.

Kafka said that A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. If thats the case, this book is more like a bonfire that begins with a spark and ends up burning its way into all corners of our minds. Wherever your taste in fiction lies, The New Black is a stunning and essential collection.
3329593
Vicious Dogs, by newcomer Henry Brock is, well, Canadian noir. Who knew such a thing even existed? Canadian noirreplete with a self-effacing, overly apologetic, and downright decent protagonist, Derek Lasker. Dont get me wrongLasker is a private dick through-and-through. This down-on-his-luck, cant-seem-to-get-back-on-his-feet, bordering-on-loser P.I. has total gumshoe cred: he drinks to excess, smokes like a chimney, curses without cause, and womanizes (unsuccessfully, of course, which both feeds into and is fed by his loser persona).

But Lasker is notably different than many of the new noir protagonists (if one can call them that) who seem pervasive these daysthe soulless, irredeemable misanthropes with cockroach hearts and reptilian minds. On that front, Lasker is a breath of fresh air: he quotes from Macbeth, reads the Classics, embraces multiculturalism, and ponders the plight of women in the male-dominated profession of policing the State. Of course, he does all of this while living in the backseat of his too-old-to-be-hip Toyota (lets just say it aint a Prius) after getting the bums rush from a fleabag hotel. Brocks Lasker harkens back to the gumshoes of an earlier erathe intelligent, two fisted, and sometimes sensitive Marlowes and Spades of the hard-boiled world. And these traits serve Lasker well as he searches for a psychotic cat killer and mutilater in his hometown of Toronto. Yes, you read it rightcat killer and mutilater.

Brock spins a tale both twisted and twisty in Vicious Dogs. The intriguing plot keeps the reader turning pages while the colorful characters bid said reader to slow down and enjoy the ride. And what a ride it isone that doesnt let up until the final denouement arrives and Brock adroitly wraps up the mystery in a satisfying bow. If you like noirreal noir, with hardboiled dicks, dames, and good old fashioned psychotic killersthen youll love Vicious Dogs. Trust me, this ones for you.
2922483
Those of you who are familiar with my reading tastes know I rarely go back in time - or forward, for that matter. I prefer the here and now. However, every now and then I break my own tight-fisted reading mold because the premise of a novel catches my eye. Gumshoe by Michael Compton happened to write that little number with a seductive description of an old-fashioned noir mystery.

Definition of noir: a genre of crime film or fiction characterized by cynicism, fatalism, and moral ambiguity

And what's a dark mystery without an alcoholic Hollywood Private Investigator, a Packard, some heroin, an aged rich Colonel, his young knockout cold-as-ice conniving wife, a missing son - or is he? - a club singer, the inconvenient bastard daughter, and a rare artifact?

Before I go any further I must say I loved Michael Compton's writing. You know I don't rave about writers here, but Michael's good. Expressions, metaphors, tone, he did it all. If I had to fault him, I could only say there were just a couple of times our contemporary slang expressions infiltrated the prose but not enough to lurch me out of the moment.

This dark story held me captive with P.I. Ellis York's impressions, insights, and descriptions of other characters and their motives for wanting what they did. His liquor inevitably landed him in trouble, but it seemed there was no escaping trouble anyway on the two cases which somehow intersected - just outside of his mental reaches to discover exactly how. Typical of noir, figuring out who was doing what to whom seemed as impossible for this reader as it was for the gumshoe in this story.

Remembering the introduction to the story remained, wondering if there would be a reprieve, but I confess I never saw this ending coming. Unusual, well-done, and carefully constructed, Gumshoe is almost a two-part novel with the second part coming near the final pages. While not the ending I would've chosen - or even preferred - it's still a fascinating and well-written story. Surprisingly clean for a general market novel in spite of the suggestion of unintentional incest.
2500417
When you buy "Phineas Poe" you are buying the full set of f Poe books written by Will Christopher Baer, and for the affordable price of 19 bucks, this is a good enough price for a good chunk of modern noir literature.

This is like no noir I've read before, though. To be shockingly sincere, the three stories contained in this volume, at their core, are pretty simplistic and other than the first book ("Kiss my, Judas") they really don't seem to go anywhere. This is not a bad thing, by any means, but fast passed action readers are better off away from this one brick.

"Kiss me, Judas" opens with ex-cop and suspected wife killer turned junkie, Phineas Poe, fresh out of a mental institution and enjoying himself some drinks in a bar. The very first paragraph sets the tone not only of this book, but the whole trilogy, and they carry the same cold, sharp as a scalpel, feel of William Gibson's opening words in "Neuromancer". The plot begins as a revenge story but then it gives an unexpected turn and before you know it you are reading a story with a whole different intent and a twisted take on a familiar genre.

"Penny Dreadful", although the second book in the trilogy, is not exactly a sequel. You could easily skip it out and go to the next book, but I wouldn't recommend that. Personally, I think this is the weakest of the three books, although I have a friend who is a James Joyce fan and is madly in love with this book for obvious reasons. It is also the weirdest one and Phineas Poe finds himself surrounded by a troupe of grade A freaks who had played a little bit too much Dungeons and Dragons while at the S&M club.

"Hell's Half Acre", is the true sequel to the first book. The book starts with a strong kick, but by the middle of it the story suffers the same fate as previous book, it just doesn't seem to go anywhere and it is not until the last hundred pages when the story finally picks up to give a nice enough closure to the trilogy.

Despite my constant mentions of the stories "not going anywhere", I can't recommend this book enough. Christopher Baer is a writer to look for, and you should definitely buy this book if you are looking for a well written piece of modern literature.
608275
I must admit, the only crime novels I've ever picked up were ones featuring Hercule Poirot and Miss Jane Marple, but even these novels are of the mystery genre. Modern crime fictions are new to a young adult like me and the only other crime novels I've recently had my hands on were Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse Southern Vampire Mysteries (again still a mystery fiction). So I was quite glad to have seen the Australian release for Jeff Lindsay's Darkly Dreaming Dexter as it offered the same formula for a good crime caper slash mystery fiction that I've enjoyed in the past, except that my new loved hero isn't such a good guy himself. What can I say? Good girls always go for bad guys.

Dexter Morgan can be said to be the most perfect guy: funny, nice to people, loves his sister, loves children, and always seem to say the right things. However, beneath the picture perfect gentleman image, Dexter kills Miami's bad guys because i) they deserved it and, more disturbingly, ii) killing satisfies The Need.

Dexter is different because a mysterious childhood made him cold and unfeeling. Thus, as the story, which is told Dexter sees it, progresses, it is quite interesting to see someone who is apathetic towards other humans impersonate them and try to blend in. This insight into a serial killer's thought is one of the main positive features of the book especially when this unsympathetic good murderer is a sarcastic one. What I love about this book is that there didn't seem to be any irrelevant parts so you couldn't really put the book down until you find out what happens next. It's a page turner, but it seemed to be one of the weakest points as it was like wanting to get to the destination but fearing the end of the thrilling ride.

However, the characters were kind of a downside. Deborah, Dexter's sister, appears to be more a whiner than a professional cop who matched LaGuerta's incompitence at police detective work. I wondered to myself why Dexter wasn't a detective himself but a blood spatter analyst. He knew how vile criminals think, yet he hated blood. Another thing was that he spent more of his time where he wasn't needed rather than analyzing blood spatter patterns on other crimes comitted. What's up with that? Last gripe with the novel was that the action part could've been hiked up a notch.

All in all, the ending was great and has led to me to believe that Dexter, and hopefully Rita as she had about a few pages in this, will certainly be appearing in more Lindsay novels. As they say, the lighter the picture, the darker the negative, and I just can't wait to read about what happens inside the dark recesses of Dexter's own dark mind.
4854980
I love film noir movies, especially a Bogart or a Cagney film!  When movies were made in an era when Men and Women REALLY acted!!!  It's nice to see movies with class and character instead of sex, nudity, blood and gore!