Review: Fatal Rounds

Fatal Rounds by Carrie Rubin
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Carrie Rubin’s Fatal Rounds was a delicious novel, rife with suspense and intrigue that, for me, found its feet just a little too late in the game.

Protagonist Liza Larkin is entering her residency in pathology at the Titus McCall Medical Center. She’s smart, driven and experiences the world through the lens of her self-described “schizoid personality disorder”. She relies on lifelong lessons from both her psychiatrist and her parents regarding appropriate social behaviors to guide her daily interactions, though Liza still misses important cues and is often perceived as “odd” and quirky. Additionally, she has had to learn to control her angry and sometimes violent outbursts, and long standing relationships for Liza are few and far between. Her mother resides in a private mental health facility, her father is deceased and her musician brother survives in a cloud of depression. When Liza’s mother experiences a particularly alarming “episode”, Liza discovers a shadowy man who appears in the background of a number of family photographs—photos that seem to have triggered her mother’s angst and most recent decline. Liza’s mission to discern the man’s identity is quickly realized, at which time she commits to discovering why he, Dr. Sam Donovan, is seemingly stalking her family. In the process, she finds far more than she bargained for, placing her career, her family and her own life in jeopardy.

Liking Liza as a character is a difficult ask. Her strengths and “humanity” are revealed so slowly that, for the first half of the book, there seems to be no context to who she is. Rubin opens by placing Liza in a setting that would have been far more powerful had the reader been given an opportunity to invest in her and understand her actions and reactions. It took too much of a concerted effort, and an inordinate number of pages, to unwind her motivations and situate them in terms of her own mental health challenges. Additionally, while her close relationship with her father appears to eclipse his death, neither his life, their connection, nor his passing are explored to the extent necessary to make Liza’s behaviors believable. Finally, the reader is, throughout, expected to buy into Liza’s constantly recalibrating moral compass—something I was never quite comfortable simply attributing to her personality disorder. The echoes of psychopathy in Liza reverberated far too loudly for her to be sympathetic.

Character challenges aside, the pages turned quickly, and I found myself invested in the outcome—which, for me, makes this a worthwhile read.

Thanks to Net Galley and Indigo Dot Press for providing me with an ARC for review. Fatal Rounds is slated for publication September 20, 2022.

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Review: The Deluge

The Deluge by Stephen Markley
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

When I sat down to pen this review, I found myself somewhat stymied. Did I enjoy the book? Honestly, not so much. I am a post-apocalyptic fan and have stepped into some fairly treacherous trenches as far as the genre is concerned. At first blush, I assumed that this would be another in an extensive line of end-of-the-world fluff. Consider me schooled. This was a terrifying long haul journey through years of ignored climate change and devastating consequences, as author Stephen Markley pushes his foot on the gas and belts through intersecting narratives that, at their heart, document the earth’s demise. Did I mention it was terrifying? Dust bowl conditions, widespread global flooding and never before seen high temperatures take their toll on life as we know it and infect the very fabric of what it is to be human.

As for the quality of Markley’s writing, well that depends upon the criteria to which you hold the piece accountable. At just under 1,000 pages, it takes determination and patience to wade through the dense text in search of that pullable thread. It’s definitely there, but to find it requires wading though page after page of extraneous “stuff”. The snapshot narratives, interspersed with news stories, press releases and shared memos, are all arranged in a chronological(ish) format that deviates at will and the bemusement of the speaker-of-the-moment. It feels at times that the reader is stuck tumbling in the wheel that must never stop spinning in Markley’s head, as both the left and right are eviscerated and exposed for their over-sold dog and pony shows that amount to absolutely nothing in terms of meaningful change. The research behind these pages must be measurable only in mountains.

The author introduces an almost unwieldy cast of characters to deliver his warning—characters who cross paths then veer in distinctly different directions, though to eliminate even one would tear at the integrity of the story being told. Perhaps, as mentioned previously, making more judicious use of the minutiae would have made the text more approachable to the masses who need to read it. Often I’ve complained of other books that an author chooses either breadth or depth, one often at the peril of the other. Here, Markley makes no such concessions, insisting on tiny details, caught beneath a widely cast net, to the final page.

With all of that said, clearly exposing my prejudice for easy beach reads, this is a book that is of great import and a must read eye-opener for everyone—regardless of the tenacity one may have to muster to do so. Above all, Markley consistently drives home the urgency of our attention and, most importantly, our ACTION, before it’s too late to address and reverse the incomprehensible damage we are inflicting upon our world.

I believe in the not so distant future, we will look back at this cautionary tale and hail Markley a prophet, though of our successes or failures lies at the crux of the action he is able to mobilize.

Thanks to Simon and Shuster and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC for review. Publication is set for January 10, 2023. The sooner the better.

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Review: The Secret Witness

The Secret Witness by Victor Methos
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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When I spotted this as an option for an Amazon First Read selection, I was almost giddy.  Methos is, after all, a literary genius whom I both admire and, possibly, just a little, worship.  I dove in without a moment of hesitation.  I must admit, however, now that the shiny newness of a “latest release” has faded, what remains is the sense that this just not reflect the Methos-level work he has penned in the past.  The shine is definitely dulled.

The story is that of a retired hermit-like prosecutor, Solomon Shepard, who is approached by the local sheriff, Billie Gray, when “the one who got away” appears to resurface.  A serial killer known only as the Reaper has been on a prolonged hiatus, but a recent string of murders is so similar to those of the Reaper himself, many are convinced that the original killer is back in the game. Solomon is lured back into the realm of the Reaper with the hope of finally identifying the murderer and putting the case to rest.  

So is the story engaging?  Well….yes, it is.  The characters are a tad shallow, but they are believable and consistent.  The plot is one that offers a surprise ending that I never saw coming, and it was a quick page-turner.  Why, then, only three stars?  Because this book lacked the spark that has made me such a Methos fan.  There were no examples of clever wordsmithing.  There was no snarky dialogue, no characters who engaged me to the point of sadness at turning the final page.  In short, there was no shadow or imprint of Methos on a single page.  

If you’re looking for a well done, fairly straight forward story, with a twist right at the tail end, you may very well enjoy this.  If, however, you are a Methos fan looking to pad your love affair with his work, I’d skip this one and wait for Methos to rise again to the greatness of which he is fully capable.

Review: Fear Thy Neighbor

Fear Thy Neighbor by Fern Michaels
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

This book was, in short, a hot mess. It was a slow, almost nonexistent burn, during which the dialogue and character development were both positively abhorrent.

The story is that of Alison (Ali)—a product of the foster care system, abused and neglected by those who were responsible for her safety and well being. At 17, Ali graduates high school and, after a harrowing experience at home, goes on the run. The story is of Ali visiting a new-to-her village in Florida and purchasing her first home. In spite of being drugged and dragged, finding human bones in her yard, and having horrendous experiences with the nefarious characters who inhabit the space, Ali moves ahead with buying a beach house there. She knows something is not quite right (ya think?), and as the story unfolds, the community’s secrets are revealed.

Whilst reading, I kept waiting for some big reveal or some significant event to occur—something that would anchor this novel. Instead, what I got was a series of unrelated crises and events that portrayed Ali as, at once, a bad ass and a woman who just could not make good decisions. The result was a muddled protagonist about whom I could not possibly have cared any less.

While the lack of a central plot was disconcerting, it was the uncomfortable and stilted dialogue that sealed the two star deal. When Ali is chased while inadvertently trespassing on a private beach, she, weapon in reach, tells her pursuer she will “blow (his) frigging head off”. When the man backs off and tells her he never meant to scare her, Ali responds with “Then what the hell are your intentions?” His INTENTIONS? Really? She’s just been chased down and she asks his intentions? It was just so out of character. Was she the brusque and base woman who threatened to blow his head off or the more refined lady asking a man of his “intentions”? When she goes into a “dollar store”, she asks to purchase a “cellular phone”. So formal for a street rat who has had to live by the seat of her pants! The inconsistencies were prevalent through out and extended beyond the dialogue. At one stage, she was convinced she had food poisoning, then pages later professed that she never believed her illness was food poisoning. She talked about having to, in the past, eat from garbage cans, but then we find she has well over $100,000 she has managed to “save” over a period of only 12 years, all the while moving from place to place. She even has her own investment broker, was weapon trained by an ex-military captain and knows enough to check the behind-the-scenes plumbing when she looks to purchase a home. Must have been a busy 12 years.

Overall, an incredible disappointment from an accomplished author. Two stars—and that’s being generous.

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Review: The Last Commercial Ever

The Last Commercial Ever by George Ellis
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Last Commercial Ever is a clever take on an “end of the world” scenario set in motion by a successful television commercial that is aired during the Super Bowl—a commercial, designed by ad gurus Kip and Kelly, that is both light-hearted and well-executed. Before it is set to actually air, however, it is hacked by domestic terrorists and embedded with a series of visual patterns and images that cause fatal seizures. In the blink of an eye, millions die as they engage in the time honored tradition of paying homage to those expensive 30 to 60 second halftime advertising spots that have, in the past, been a source of great entertainment. The aftermath is brutal, the retelling of which takes up the lion’s share of the book.

Author George Ellis is a gifted writer. In this genre of post apocalyptic lit, finding an author like Ellis who can string together a coherent story without a plethora of errors in grammar, spelling, punctuation and typos has become like finding unicorn tears. Additionally, the book itself is well structured, believable and contains enough action to maintain reader interest. In spite of these strengths, however, there were weaknesses profound enough to cost a few stars in the rating process.

First, Ellis is clearly a man who prefers breadth over depth. The number of intersecting and parallel plots is unwieldy—a flaw reinforced by the absolutely inordinate number of characters, none of whom is ever fully developed. Instead, they are formulaically introduced, engage in some activity that may or may not further the plot, and then are rotated out to allow for the next character/set of characters to appear and repeat the process. This constant revolving door was at times disorienting and made it difficult to develop empathy or sympathy for any of the lot. The moment one is swept up in the story unfolding, the perspective is changed. Although some of the story lines intersect, there are others that simply run along a parallel set of tracks. I found myself wishing that Ellis had stuck to just the story of Kip and Kelly instead of allowing for huge periods of time to elapse before returning to them.

My second issue here is again with the characters, but this time it’s for the obvious attempt by the author to appear “woke”. The story has a gay character, a character that is a POC, a widower, a badass beautiful girl and a nerdy guy with self-esteem issues. There are young characters, old characters, educated characters, ignorant characters, and the list goes on. In the end, it felt forced and as if Ellis was inventing scenarios to allow him to include a “United Nations” cast instead of allowing the characters to grow organically from a strong storyline.

Three stars for the unique approach.

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Review: The Woman in the Library

The Woman in the Library by Sulari Gentill
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Woman in the Library, by author Sulari Gentill, is like no other book I’ve ever read.  The risks Gentill takes in turning the traditional structure of a murder mystery on its ear are at once intriguing and frustrating; the source of not only the book’s strengths but also it’s weaknesses.

The chapters in the book are the work of fictional author Hannah Tigone.  She is an Australian writer using a beta reader in the US, Leo Johnson, to help her stay true to the setting she has chosen in the US.  The book initially alternates  between the story Hannah Tigone is writing (a piece set in Boston, the premise of which is a writer developing a murder mystery) and the letters she then receives from her beta reader as she shares with him each chapter upon its completion.  In Leo’s letters to Tigone, he corrects some of her Australian word choices to more appropriate American phrasing and suggests adjustments of details based on the area of Boston where the story is set.  Leo is himself a writer, though he has not enjoyed the successes of Tigone, and he doesn’t hesitate to boldly assert himself in proposing tweaks and changes, some minor and some which could potentially alter the entire plot of Tigone’s work.  His letters become increasingly aggressive in their suggestions as the story progresses; his recommendations more violent and graphic.  The reader is not, however, given any insight into Tigone’s reactions beyond what Leo responds to and a few other communications directed to Tigone that are included (to elaborate on this point would mean spoilers, which I am loathe to include). If it sounds confusing, that’s because it is.  While the “story within a story” has certainly been done before, the structure of The Woman in the Library takes it one step further, testing both the loyalty and patience of the reader.  If the reader doesn’t immediately catch on to what Gentill is trying to do, the result is seemingly unrelated chapters that refuse to connect.  The upshot is that this is a novel that contains chapters of another novel, written by a fictional author, the content of which is the story of a mystery writer awarded a grant  that allows her to travel to the US from Australia in order to write her book.  Those chapters  alternate with letters from the fictional author’s beta reader. Yeah.   It’s quite a monumental task for both author and reader.

I appreciate the risks Gentill takes in her storytelling.  They keep the reader focused, if only to stay on top of the ever-changing perspective and media being shared.  The transitions between Leo’s letters and suggestions and the mystery being written by the fictional author are sometimes awkward and abrupt.  While this may have been intentional, for me it removed me from the story in an effort to “keep up”.  Further more, Gentill’s approach to character development (there was none for Tigone) made the entire book feel distant, as if I as the reader was being held at an arm’s length instead of being invited in to meet the cast.  This feeling of being an outsider colored my ability to invest in either Leo’s spiraling mental state or the story Tigone is writing.  Even the characters within the mystery are under developed and almost ethereal—shallow and transparent to the point of appearing as rough outlines of who they could have become under the direction of a more experienced writer.  

I appear to be in the minority with my rating, as others have placed this squarely in the 5 star category.  For me, however, I could offer only three stars for the novel approach.  Beyond that, there is definitely a lack of substance from the beginning that never does materialize.

Thanks to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for allowing me access to this ARC.  Expected publication is slated for June 7, 2022.

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Review: Everything Must Go

Everything Must Go by Camille Pagán
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I wish I had enjoyed this a bit more!  In theory, the plot works.  Laine is a professional organizer who, at the age of 38, experiences an epiphany of sorts—she wants a baby and her biological clock is ticking louder than a cheap Timex.  Unfortunately, her husband Josh has little interest in expanding the family beyond the two of them.  Moments after telling Josh she wants a divorce, Laine gets a phone call from her sister who impresses upon Laine how important it is for her to come home to New York to help make some long term decisions about their mother’s care, as she is showing increasing signs of dementia.  Home, for Laine, however, holds keys to the past that she isn’t sure she wants to revisit.  There’s her ex BFF Ben and the remnants of a people-pleasing past that she left behind 16 years prior—and both threaten to at once undo her and offer her salvation.

The characters here are supposed to be multi-faceted and on a quest toward self-awareness.  Instead, I found each to be incredibly self-centered, not to mention a little whiny.  The emotional angst that should and usually does accompany many of the life-changing moments in the book is just….absent.  Laine bounces from one relationship to the next with the ease of a child on a trampoline, ending her marriage, confronting her mother and re-engaging with a former friend who has the potential to make things better or a whole lot worse.  She just seems indifferent and emotionally detached.  Those moments when the author does attempt to imbue her with compassion and feeling fall flat, and the reader is left little with which to connect.

There were jumping off points here with the potential for author Camille Pagan to make sweeping statements about everything from single motherhood to racial bias.  Rather than exploring these. Pagan waltzes past them with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.  

All in all, it’s a mediocre quick read that is comprised of a series of strung together events with little emotional impact.

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