A Bard, a Prostitute, a Soldier, & a Cat: Enticing Fantasy Shorts

It’s been a long time since I actually had a box of chocolates, but I remember looking at the just-unwrapped package with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, because chances were just as good I’d select a yummy morsel (coconut creme, maybe) as a yucky one (like the dreaded cherry cordial). (And yeah, I know there are supposed to be certain shapes for the various flavors, but I never bothered memorizing them... hence all that uncertainty.) Anyway, the point is that not even the fear of biting into something I really dislike deterred me from enjoying my little box of choccies. 

So, when a friend recently gifted me with A Fantasy Medley 2, a collection of four short stories written by popular fantasy authors (and based in the worlds they’ve already created), I treated it the same way as those long-ago boxes of chocolates--with equal parts excitement and concern. And, although I’d previously only read one of the authors in the collection (we’ll call her my coconut creme), I kept an open mind about the other three; you just never know when you’re going to find a delightful treat.

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The collection starts off with Tanya Huff’s “Quartered,” the tale of a young female bard, Evicka, who’s been tasked with spying on a married assassin couple in a remote corner of the kingdom. As she travels across the countryside, singing songs relaying history to the groups of people that she meets, she tries to pry gossip out of anyone who might know something of use to her (but with little success). Not until she finally reaches the assassins' small camp does she understand the truth: what her boss is actually afraid of, and how reality is similar to--and different from--it.

This story was the least effective to me, particularly as a standalone. While I finally got the gist of who--and, more importantly, what--the main characters were, after having read several pages in, it still felt like diving headfirst into the middle of something going full-stream... and me, without a life preserver. Bottom line, it’s an interesting story that didn’t feel entirely complete on either end.

Amanda Downum’s “Bone Garden” is the second tale in the collection. A young man who’d escaped a grim life of deprivation by moving to the big city and finding work as a part-time prostitute/part-time actor, finds himself unexpectedly drawn back into the world he’d fought to leave, when a cousin shows up out of the blue, needing his help... not to escape or for money, but to save the city’s lost children from a vengeful--and hungry--group of deadly spirits.

I found “Bone Garden” considerably more effective in this format; it no doubt complements Downum’s existing work (which I’m not familiar with), but also reads as a complete short story, and is quite good. 

Jasper Kent’s “The Sergeant and the General” is the third tale in the anthology. Told from two viewpoints--first, that of a medical student, then that of a soldier under Napoleon--we get the story in reverse of a man’s “golden years” in retirement and his stint of military service (which he is haunted by in his later years).

While I love the structure Kent used in telling his tale--I’m a sucker for non-sequential storytelling, every time--and found his characters and their story extremely compelling, this was also the hardest story, by far, for me to read. Why? Because I’m an animal lover, and, while retribution is eventually paid, there’s a horrendous scene of brutality that just about did me in. 

The reason I received this book, though, was for the final tale: Seanan McGuire’s “Rat-Catcher,” set many, many years ago in the October Daye series--specifically, in 17th-century London... where a young prince of a cat slips out of the Court of Cats as often as possible to visit the theater, his true passion. As the young cat finds a second (and kinder) home among the theater folk (who prize him for his pest-catching abilities and his affectionate purrs), trouble brews within the court and without... as a foretold scourge threatens to decimate all of London, both mortal and fae, and a cat must make a very big choice. 

As much as I’m enamored of the entire October Daye series, to date (click on “October Toby Day” over in the far-right column and see my reviews, if you’re new to the party and unaware of how very fond I am of these books), it shouldn’t be any surprise that this was my favorite tale from A Fantasy Medley 2. (Seriously, cats? I am so freakin’ IN!!) It’s also complete, easy to read (and impossible to put down)... and managed to twist my heart around inside-out via the emotional payoff. 

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A Fantasy Medley 2 would be worth the price solely for the McGuire story, as far as I’m concerned... but it’s actually a nice little collection with not one, but four worthwhile reads. 

GlamKitty Catnip Mousie Rating: Lovely Little Collection of Mousies

Poker Faces and Killer High Heels: Just Another Day in Sin City

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it? Sometimes, though, it makes total sense.

Take, for instance, Las Vegas-native Lucky O’Toole’s equal parts charmed and cursed life. [If you haven’t been a party to her various Sin City exploits yet, then by all means dash on over to my earlier reviews, here, and go from the bottom post up, before reading any further.] Recently promoted to Vice President of Customer Relations--a euphemism for Problem Fixer Extraordinaire, which entails at least as many headaches as it sounds like--at the esteemed Babylon hotel, Lucky still has no “life” to speak of (unless your idea of such means “all work”, in which case she has it in spades). She races around the hotel (often on a pair of highly-unsuitable stiletto heels) putting out fires at all hours of the night and day--placating the occasional less-than-happy guests, unruffling disgruntled employee feathers, and juggling the needs of the various contractors, vendors, and special guests at the myriad conventions hosted by the Babylon--all while signing a forest’s worth of paperwork each day and keeping tabs on security, housekeeping, maintenance, the casinos, and the restaurants.

And, sure, her parents--after thirty-plus years of living apart--may have finally gotten hitched, with her former-madam mom moving into the Babylon to live with her (only-recently-revealed) hotel-owning dad, but mom Mona’s been driving Lucky as crazy as ever with her kooky ideas and outrageous, innuendo-laden comments, and her father is still “The Big Boss” to everyone. (Oh, and the fact that her parents are about to be new parents again? Just adds to the normal level of crazy.)

Everything would be okay, though, if only her own love life wasn’t still on the lam. (Hard to imagine, but watching her honey choose a globe-trotting career entertaining people with his music over being with her sorta put the big kibosh on the whole romance thing.) And sure, there’s a handsome (if occasionally testy and frequently demanding) French chef in the wings, but he has plenty of baggage of his own, and Lucky’s pretty sure she’s had her share of that kind of baggage.      

So, yeah, Lucky’s seen and done it all before... or so she thinks, until an encounter in the wee hours of the morning makes her rethink everything--even contemplating the idea that maybe she can’t fix every problem--in Deborah Coonts’ Lucky Bastard.

♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

When her friend (slash former co-worker and wannabe lover) Paxton Dane summons her down to the Babylon’s on-site luxury car dealership at three in the morning, Lucky can’t imagine what’s up, but the urgency in Dane’s voice convinces her she’d better get down there, pronto. What--and who--he wants to show her, though, is beyond the need for any hurry. Under the lone spotlight, a new Ferrari makes slow revolutions on a dais... but instead of a spiffy hood ornament, this one sports a drop-dead gorgeous woman in a tiny party dress, lying spread-eagled across the hood. This isn’t part of some heavy metal video shoot or an interrupted lovers’ tryst, either, not since this unfortunate woman has the spiked end of a limited edition Jimmy Choo buried in her neck.

Making awful matters worse, Dane finally admits--after some intense grilling by a very annoyed Lucky--not only to knowing the dead woman, but to holding something of a grudge against her... a fact which Lucky’s favorite Metro P.D. contact, Detective Romeo, finds very interesting, although Dane insists that he didn’t hurt her. (Hey, if you’ve got a likely suspect in front of you, who are you gonna believe?)

Of course, it wouldn’t be Vegas if that were the only thing on Lucky’s plate. It’s also time for the final round of the annual Smack-Down Poker tournament--a mega-popular tourney drawing players, fans, groupies, and major media attention from around the world--which just so happens to be taking place at the Babylon.

Throw in the mysterious on-site murder of a (much-reviled) casino employee, the shocking death of a (much-loved) tourney participant, and a surprise attack on Lucky herself (during some of her not-entirely-sanctioned-but-who-cares investigating), and Lucky and company decide it’s time to take matters into their own hands and find a way to rid the Babylon of its latest pest-with-deadly-intent.

She can only hope that Dane is actually telling the truth about not being behind everything... and that she is up to the task of proving the same thing to the police.

♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

Much like a trip to Vegas--where everything that happens stays (according to their motto)--you can always count on Lucky-and-company’s escapades to provide some fun, flashy, escapist entertainment, which Lucky Bastard does. That’s only part of what continues to lure me in, though; just as fascinating to me are the glimpses of Sin City’s seedy underbelly--the very unglamorous places, where grit and cast-off things collect--and the behind-the-scenes peeks into how such a wildly engineered-for-outrageous-extravagance oasis of glitz and luxury functions day after day (something which these books have in abundance).

In the mood for a clever mystery served up with a splash of glam, a soupçon of witty repartee, and a little desert grime? Pick up Lucky Bastard; it’s a sure bet.

[Lucky Bastard will be released May 15, 2013.]  

Maidens and Dragons and... Steamy, Oh My!!

When your sweet tooth demands that you satisfy it (since all of us know a sweet tooth never asks politely, right?), the choices available to do so run the gamut... from something like the lowly vending machine Twinkies or bag of M&Ms (cheap and found everywhere), to fancy-schmancy wrapped bon-bons or an exquisitely-decorated cupcake (requiring a bit more searching and considerably more than the spare change jingling around in your pocket or the bottom of your bag). Either way, though, you’re unlikely to make a meal out of the sweet you’ve chosen; it’s small--a snack, something to have with tea or coffee, or for dessert--and eating too much would probably leave you with a tummy ache (yes, I do know about that first hand). 

The same principle applies to sex in books (or movies), as far as I’m concerned. A little nookie at the right time--meaning, where it makes sense in the story--is great... I just don’t want that to be all there is.

So why (you’re going to ask) did I pick up Thrones of Desire: Erotic Tales of Swords, Mist and Fire, a book whose title screams its lusty intentions? (Perfectly reasonable question, that.) 

There are a couple of reasons. First, while I don’t read erotica (those books that make a meal out of the naughty bits), I have some good friends who do, and it’s neat to be able to give them a recommendation (or a thumbs down) now and then. Plus, it's kind of fun stepping out of the ol' comfort zone. 

The main reason I gambled on Thrones of Desire, though, is right there in the title. (No, not “desire”, obviously, but “thrones”... referencing the sort of fantasy that’s ultra-popular right now, a la George R.R. Martin’s books and “Game of Thrones” series on TV.) I figure if I’m going to dive headfirst into a full-on bodice-ripping, member-throbbing extravaganza, then I at least want the background and setting to provide a little distraction from all the thrusting, eh?

So, without further ado...

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Piers Anthony sets the stage with a rather brilliant (and, in places, side-splittingly hilarious) foreword, outlining the idea behind Thrones of Desire, which is to straddle the two extremes of traditionally male- and female-written erotica. In the past, men tended to write the down-and-dirty sex scenes, while women leaned more to the flowery (euphemism-heavy) versions, which led to male-penned books having a predominantly-male audience, while female-authored erotica appealed mostly to women. That meant little cross-over in readership--despite the fact that the subject matter, sex, is universal.

Editor (and author of one of the stories) Mitzi Szereto continues in the same vein with her introduction. The result of her work is fourteen tales--each set in a world of magic and legend, populated by beings ordinary and supernatural, with good battling evil (and everything in between), and copious interludes of hot, steamy copulation--with varied appeal. Have a revenge fantasy? You’ll find a doozy here. Perhaps the romantic, maiden-rescued-(or stolen)-by-a-handsome-stranger is more your thing? Present. Gay, lesbian, or bisexual interludes strike your fancy? No problem, this book has you covered. Prefer one-night stands? That's here, as well.

But, is the book a hit or a miss? Actually, it's both (but I can recommend more stories than not, so there's that). 

The ones I really dislike include a revenge fantasy--not my cuppa (although if you enjoy those women-in-prison-getting-revenge flicks, it may be right up your alley)--and one I found utterly boring (man persuading women’s army not to form a city, but to take him with them, instead? I just lost the plot with this one). 

Among the better ones, though, Janine Ashbless‘ “Of High Renown” involves a young woman compelled to play nursemaid to a gravely-injured warrior dropped off in her village, and is a sweet (and steamy) romance. Madeline Moore’s “In the Kingdom of Roz” depicts a young woman’s arranged-wedding day... which goes along as planned (including her Lady Godiva-esque trip toward town) until she gets kidnapped right off her horse by a startling captor. These are more of a traditional take on standard romance novel themes--kicking the eroticism meter up a few notches--and are nicely done.

My favorites, though, are the ones with the highest level of fantasy. Eric Del Carlo’s “Hot as a Dragon’s Blood” presents an interesting quandary: a skilled young dragonmaster--who happens to be gay, and therefore won’t be allowed by his homophobic tribe to fly his dragon into battle, after being outed--can either stand on the sidelines by his dragon, watching the upcoming action... or he can share his blood (or semen) with someone from another tribe, transferring the dragon bond from himself to another. (It’s a thoughtful tale with a neat premise.) Jo Wu’s “Key to the Queen’s Elixir” reads as a true fairy tale (and not the happy-ending-for-all, Disney version, either). Finally, Zander Vyne’s “The Last Sacrifice”  tells the story of a princess who wins (or loses?) her city’s annual lottery, meaning she will be the year’s virgin sacrifice to appease the dragon who sleeps in the forest outside the city walls. What she finds, however, when she rides her horse out to meet her unhappy fate, is one surprise after another.

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There’s plenty in Thrones of Desire to appeal to readers of pure erotica and fantasy, alike... just remember to pace yourself, and enjoy it like you would a dessert (because reading it all at once, like I did for this review, is the equivalent of eating the whole cake in one sitting... and that's a bit much). 

Book-to-Movie: How Headhunters Fares

Anyone who’s ever read a great book--or even just a good one that was highly enjoyable--then looked forward to seeing the movie or TV version of same, knows what it’s like to be disappointed. Sure, there are some super adaptations out there (“Game of Thrones” and nearly all of the recent BBC adaptations of the classics, for instance), but the duds far outnumber them (“The DaVinci Code” was, at least, an interesting book, but the movie was like cruel-and-unusual torture, and “The Scarlet Letter” with Demi Moore was a really bad joke).

So, after reading Headhunters last month (see my review here), I made myself wait awhile before streaming the movie. Despite the overwhelmingly-positive reviews, the fear of being let down was just too strong. (Well, that, and the fact that it’s a Norwegian film, which means sub-titles, which is not my favorite-thing-ever, seeing as how I'm a face- and body-language-reader, which captioned dialogue doesn't make easy. [sigh])

After watching it earlier this week, though, I have to say it’s definitely one of the better adaptations--no, it's not perfect, but it keeps to the overall theme and feel of the book quite well, and offers up plenty of suspense and a few good chills.

The movie version of main character Roger Brown may not be exactly how I pictured him (nor does he ever come across as cocky as in the book), but actor Aksel Hennie makes the role his own, giving Roger a likability to balance his insecurity, with just a hint of the slick shyster. (Hennie reminds me of a blond, considerably-better-looking Steve Buscemi crossed with a younger Christopher Walken, which is kind of cool.) 

Synnøve Macody Lund, on the other hand, is pretty much how I pictured Roger’s wife Diana; she’s a tall, Nordic beauty, possessing more sweetness than one might assume of someone so used to being pandered to and getting her own way (in both book and movie). Very good performance. 

The only actor I was already familiar with (from “Game of Thrones”, as it happens) is Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, playing Roger’s nemesis, Clas Greve. Again, he really isn’t what I pictured (a little too young, a lot too handsome), yet he, too, inhabits the role so completely that I had no trouble putting aside my mental image of the character. Coster-Waldau is believably tough, intelligent, and arrogant (no surprise there, given his "GoT" work as Jamie Lannister), and he also brings a nicely-honed sense of frightening menace to the role.

So, if not at the hands of the actors (who were all quite good, actually, from those just mentioned to the most minor characters), where did I experience those “That’s not the way it’s supposed to be!” moments? With the things that got left out, or compressed... such as Roger’s extensive mental acrobatics while he’s at work. All that thinking--about an interviewee, about his wife, about his money problems, about his next heist--paints such a vivid portrait of who Roger is, in the book, that I really missed it in the movie. 

Another key difference--which I understand, since a movie needs more “show” than “tell”, but definitely miss, especially for chills-and-thrills suspense--is how and when we, the viewers, find out everything. (We’re privy early on to what will happen in the movie; in the book, those same actions come as a complete surprise, and we’re not made fully aware of the hows and whys of the surprise until after the fact, which is basically at the very end.)

Still, “Headhunters” the movie holds its own extremely well, and makes for a fun, smart, and entertaining evening... whether or not you’ve already read Headhunters the book. (Of course, you already know I highly recommend you read the book... but whether you read before or after the movie, I suspect you’ll really enjoy both.)

(Oh, and those subtitles? Didn’t bug me a bit, after about the first five minutes or so. :))  

GlamKitty Catnip Mousie Rating:  A Must-Watch (preferably whilst engaging in some bunnykicking-of-those-Mousies)

Changing the Stakes: When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted

“Ah, now that’s the life!” is, I’m 99.9-percent positive, a sentiment which no one, anywhere, will ever utter about me... which is fine. (Hey, I don’t know anyone about whom I’d say that, either). You have to live a whole different sort of existence to inspire in others such wistful longing, and most of us, well... don’t.

Appearances, however, can be deceiving, and even that which might look at first (or second or even third) glance to be the perfect situation, often turns out to be something quite different. 

In the end, how close we come to achieving our own ideals in life is as much down to the choices we make as it is to stuff like fate and luck... which, in Jo Nesbø’s brilliant stand-alone thriller, Headhunters, turns out to involve some pretty ballsy choices, indeed.

Roger Brown wouldn’t, under other circumstances, inspire much awe, admiration, or jealousy on his own merits. A smaller man (about 5’6” if he stretches) hitting middle-age, with very ordinary looks, he’s the sort of chap who has no trouble blending into the scenery, but for one thing... well, make that two things; his wife Diana is a drop-dead-gorgeous, supermodel-type, and he is phenomenally good at his job. 

Roger, you see, is a corporate headhunter, and he’s among the best in the business. (His firm doesn’t handle “small” clients unless they’re rolling in capital, and Roger handles only the most-lucrative requests for top managerial positions at the best firms.) He’s at the top of his game, and everyone who’s anyone in Norway (or Europe, for that matter) knows his name and reputation, “the headhunter who has never nominated a candidate for a job he did not get”. 

From the outside, Roger’s life seems in line with his success; his wardrobe and grooming are impeccable, he and Diana have a fabulous home in an elite neighborhood, and luxurious, late-model cars are parked in their garage. Diana’s pet project is equally-glamorous--an über-high-end art gallery, which Roger bought to give her something to do (and as repayment for something else which it’s probably better to let you read about in the book).

Remember the bit about deceptive appearances, though? It applies here; their lifestyle--the mansion and only-the-best of everything--is way over even their limit, and Diana’s exclusive gallery is a massive money pit, all expenditures with next to zero in revenues.

But, where most people would probably opt to downsize a bit, Roger has come up with another--rather novel, when you think about it--solution: he steals pricey works of art from his connections, then fences them to fund his money shortages. (Yes, really.)

It’s risky, of course... although Roger does seem to enjoy the thrill, the danger, of it all. (Clearly he enjoys it more than the thought of letting his wife know they’re seriously strapped for cash; a woman like that, who could have anyone, but chose him, well... he figures the thefts are worth the risk.) 

Of course, what always happens when greed is involved eventually happens here, too; the irresistible “big score” inevitably comes along. After being drug to yet another money-sucking art opening at Diana’s gallery, Roger winds up meeting his great white whale... Clas Greve, a recently-retired CEO who’s just relocated to Norway, and would be absolutely perfect for a plum CEO job Roger’s trying to fill. When their conversation turns to interests, and Clas describes uncovering in his inherited house a priceless painting by Rubens--one which has been missing since World War II--it seems like fate has finally smiled on Roger. The end to all his money woes is in sight... if only he can orchestrate everything (particularly Clas) into the proper position at the right time.

Things are never as simple as we talk ourselves into believing they’ll be, though, as Roger quickly discovers. Yes, he manages to get Clas interested in the job, and yes, he succeeds at breaking into the man’s house (when Roger knows Clas is otherwise occupied), and yes, he finds the painting. Problem is, he finds something else, too--the one thing he never dreamed he’d see there... which means everything has changed, never to be the same again.

To say any more (even though SO much more has yet to happen at this point in the story), would be to deprive you of the joys--the OMG! roller-coaster thrills--of reading Headhunters for yourselves. All you really need to know is that there are far more layers to Clas than it originally seems... which also holds true for everyone else in the book (from Roger to Diana to their respective associates and friends). Surprises, clever twists? Headhunters keeps them coming, left, right, and center.

One other thing you should know--particularly if your sense of humor skews to the dark, and you revel in a certain genre of movie (think the couple of really awesome [no, not the lame ones] Tarantino flicks and pretty much anything, ever, by the Coen brothers)--is that Nesbø’s tale is a treasure trove of razor-sharp wit and brilliantly-cutting observations, housed in one of the wildest shoot-em-up crime novels out there. (And if you’re worried now that this one is all style and no substance, don’t be; Headhunters is one seriously-smart suspenseful read. Just because Nesbø lets his characters be and do their most-outrageous best or worst [and hoo-boy, is it ever out-there, sometimes!], it’s always a believable sort of extreme, entirely in-character--especially once you finally understand all the hows, whys, and wherefores.)

I’ve read several top-notch Scandinavian mysteries and thrillers over the past few years, and with Headhunters, Jo Nesbø earns a prize place not only among his fellow Scandinavians, but among all thriller writers currently out there.  

GlamKitty Catnip Mousie Rating: 5 out of 5 Slick New Mousies

Dead Men Tell No Tales... and Make No Art

You know those “old friends”... the ones you can just be yourself around, who accept you, flaws and all, and with whom an absence--of weeks, months, or sometimes even years--does nothing to diminish the bond you share? To blatantly hijack the tagline from an iconic ad campaign, those old friends are priceless. 

So, when recently I found myself sans iPad (and thus, Kindle reading app)--which, naturally, left me rooting around for something, anything new to read--it was with immense pleasure (and no small amount of relief) that I lucked upon a very old friend (or two): the unfailingly witty-and-entertaining private detective duo of Lydia Chin and Bill Smith--finally back in action after an absence of a few years, on yet another engrossing case in the Big Apple--in S.J. Rozan’s fabulous mystery, Ghost Hero. 

There are certain professions in which it’s generally understood that a high percentage of people (clients, patients, whatever) will lie to you. Cops, lawyers, priests, and accountants spring instantly to mind--and so do private investigators. (Sure, you might not care if the gumshoe you’ve chosen at random from a listing in the Yellow Pages knows why you want to track down this person or that thing... but then again, you might.)  So, when Lydia senses that her new client isn’t telling her everything, she’s not surprised. She is a trifle concerned, however, when a little digging after their initial meeting unearths a big fat nada regarding the client, himself; no one named “Jeff Dunbar” matches the man she met, the address he gave is fake, and his cell number--the only way she has of contacting him--belongs to an untraceable burner phone.

But, since work has been scarce, recently--and she sort of likes having that nice, plump envelope of cold hard cash tucked away in her safe--she decides to let the fictional Mr. Dunbar keep his secrets (for now) and see where the case leads. Plus, it’s potentially a lot more interesting than following someone’s cheating spouse or catching out a dishonest employee. Dunbar claims to have heard through the art world grapevine that a trio of paintings by Chau Chun, a famous Chinese artist known for mixing classical technique with veiled political commentary, have recently come to light, and he wants Lydia to track them down. The catch? The paintings in question aren’t old paintings recently taken out of storage; they’re new Chaus... even though the artist--now known as “Ghost Hero” Chau--died in Tiananmen Square more than twenty years ago.  

Lydia’s interest is further piqued after she explains the case to Bill, her longtime-acquaintance-cum-business-partner, and he proceeds to escort her to a ritzy address on the Upper East Side, saying he knows a guy who specializes in contemporary Chinese art. To her surprise, Jack Lee (a handsome, fellow American-born Chinese guy--not that Lydia’s looking, or anything) isn’t just an expert, but another private eye, whose area is art thefts and crimes. And, it turns out that he has also just been hired--not by Dunbar, but by a professor who knew Chau way back when in China--to look for those same paintings. Lydia, Bill, and Jack agree to share key info while continuing to work their respective cases, since they would otherwise be bumping into one another at every turn. 

Lydia and Bill head off (in disguise, no less) to meet with a gallery owner--a royal chauvinistic pig of a sleazebag gallery owner--whom Jack is pretty sure knows something about the whereabouts of the mystery paintings; meanwhile, Jack busies himself doing online research from his office. But, after someone takes potshots at him from the street--blasting out the picture window and leaving bullet holes in his walls and ceiling--the trio decide the strength-in-numbers thing probably isn’t a bad idea, and join forces.

The deeper they dig into the whereabouts of the mysterious paintings--traveling all over New York City and its environs in the process, the more they realize what a hot potato the case is, with everyone from gallery owners (respectable ones and the sleazebag) to prospective buyers (including, unfortunately, several trigger-happy mobsters) to government sources (from their government, as well as the People’s Republic of China)... all making it clear just how desperate they are to get their hands on those elusive Chaus.

I’ve been a big S.J. Rozan fan since Lydia and Bill’s debut in 1994’s China Trade, and, as proven by her latest, Ghost Hero, theirs is a pairing which has only gotten better with age--a real rarity among long-running series. Smart, clever Lydia is as tenacious (and long-suffering) as ever, with wry, observant Bill her constant foil. Their dialogue is sharp, amusing, and never feels forced. (Superb recurring characters, such as Lydia’s much-put-upon Chinese mother and her much-younger computer-whiz cousin, just add to the whole package.)

Rozan’s skill isn’t restricted to characters and banter, though; she also has a real gift for intelligent, complex, and logical plotting. Ghost Hero doesn’t go where you first think it will, nor does it follow the path which you next suppose it might. There are twists, turns, and surprises aplenty, here, creating a challenging, fascinating puzzle for her characters and her readers alike.

It goes without saying that Ghost Hero will appeal to fans of genuinely well-crafted mysteries, but it has a lot to recommend it to a much wider group of readers as well, touching as it does on art, politics, international relations, and the Chinese-American experience. I had a really hard time putting this one down, and now, I can’t wait to see what happens next.  

GlamKitty Catnip Mousie Rating:  Finely-Crafted Mousies

When the Fear that Breaks... is the Fear that Saves

Everyone is afraid--really, truly afraid--of something. 

Most of us are able to handle the fear, and as long as we don’t dwell on whatever it is that scares the pants off us, we’re okay. For some people, though, the whole “not dwelling on it” thing is impossible, and it’s that terror which defines their lives.

Of course, if the worst actually were to happen, the above would all be moot.. since being forced to face one’s fears is very different from merely thinking (or not thinking) about them. One woman discovers just how different in Elizabeth Haynes‘ brilliant psychological thriller, In the Darkest Corner.

A carefree party girl who lives to go out on the town (and stay there till the wee hours of the morning, whenever possible) with her girlfriends, twenty-something Catherine Bailey wasn’t expecting to meet someone like Lee Brightman. Movie-star handsome, charming, and funny--and rocking some major bad-boy sex appeal--he’s like a fantasy come true. Best of all, he’s obviously really into her, and almost before she knows it, they’re a couple. 

It doesn’t take long for Catherine to realize there’s trouble in paradise, though. Lee has a lot of secrets (including what he does for a living, oddly), some serious control issues, a jealous streak run rampant, and--most troubling of all--a proclivity for violence... which, increasingly, is directed toward her. 

When she looks to her friends for help getting away from him, she’s shocked to discover that not one of them believes her; clearly, he has somehow gotten to them first. Now, the friends who at one time had speculated about his air of mystery, are looking at her with suspicion, and accusing her of being cruel and unfaithful by wanting to break his heart.

With no one left to turn to, Catherine devises a desperate escape plan on her own... and succeeds, after a fashion (although not without grievous psychological and physical damage to herself). She even manages to get the police--and then a court--to sort-of believe her story, and a miserable year later, Lee winds up in prison, while Catherine... well, she finds herself in an awful mental and emotional state, just trying to survive.

Flash forward four years. Cathy, as she’s now known, has moved to the city. She has a good job, a nice flat... and a debilitating case of OCD, which causes her to spend hours each day, repeatedly checking all the door locks and window latches, over and over again (and thinking about doing so, the rest of the time). Afraid to make friends, her existence is a solitary, depressing one; it’s not much of a triumph over her abuser, this life she’s managed to notch out for herself. 

She feels the first glimmers of hope that maybe life can one day be kind-of okay--perhaps even normal--again, after meeting the man who’s just moved into the flat above hers--Stuart Richardson, a nice guy who actually seems to understand her condition, instead of thinking she’s some kind of freak. She even agrees to see a specialist for treatment, something she’s never been willing to do before . 

That’s when she gets the phone call... the one alerting her to the news that Lee has just been released from prison... and Cathy's quasi-safe little world immediately starts crumbling all around her again.

Does she have it in her, to not only protect herself, but to fight back? If there’s one thing she knows in her heart, it’s that she's all out of choices.

It’s impossible to ever know exactly what another person is going through. At best, we can really only guess, using some combination of observation, listening, and applying whatever personal experiences might be semi-relevant. If you’re the one dealing with the Really Awful Situation, there are certain behaviors which other people would expect (and thus, find “acceptable”)... and then there’s something like the full-blown case of OCD, depicted here, which falls way outside of what most of us would consider the norm. 

In the Darkest Corner paints a fascinating (not to mention, disturbing) portrait of someone taken to her breaking point--and then beyond--and does so in an intensely-compelling way. Cathy’s first-person narrative gives the story its gut-wrenching poignance and palpable immediacy; she tells things as she lives them. (Had it been written from the distance of a third-person perspective, the same urgency wouldn’t have been possible.) 

Haynes understands just how to draw her readers in... and how to keep us there, breathless with nervous tension, fraught with worry, and straining to reach the last page. In the Darkest Corner is a fantastic psychological thriller... but if you’re not big on labeling things, just call it a really great read. I know this one’s gonna stick with me for quite awhile. 

GlamKitty Catnip Mousie Rating: All the Mousies