Monthly Archives: March 2016

Book Review of A Bullet Apiece, by John Joseph Ryan

A Bullet ApieceI borrowed a copy of A Bullet Apiece, by John Joseph Ryan, from my local library. It should be noted or disclosed that Ryan apparently lives in my neighborhood. I have never actually met him, but I did once meet his wife and that is how I know about the book. So, hey there, if you’ve found this, surprise, I’m reading John’s novel.

Description from Goodreads:
All is not well in post-World War II St. Louis, and private eye Ed Darvis, a man pegged as liking justice too much, discovers there’s a fine line between solving a crime and being an accomplice.

Ed Darvis, a St. Louis private eye, is pegged as a man who “likes justice too much.” Maybe that’s why business is slow; turns out not everyone in St. Louis is looking for justice. Revenge, deceit, and a little profit-taking on the side are all too often the modus operandi of cops and criminals alike. But when a beautiful woman walks into his bland storefront agency on the seedy side of town and asks him to help find her kidnapped daughter, Darvis’s life heats up. He must use his wits to survive, jabbing and feinting with deadpan directness and cynical ease, and when that doesn’t work, delivering justice with the blunt end of his .38 revolver.

Review:
You know, I hadn’t realized it, but I don’t think I’d ever read a true Noir novel before this one. Oh, I knew what to expect. I’ve seen enough Noir movies to know what to expect, but somehow it hits you so much more strongly in writing. And this is important to note, because, though this is really quite well written, I found I couldn’t really like it.

It’s dark and gritty, which is usually just up my alley, but it’s also set in 1960 and full of just as much casual sexism (and racism) as you’d expect from the time period, not to mention having two separate horrific crimes both basically predicated on the victimization of women (which I’m just sick of in general, because it seems like 80% of the crimes in books are). And I think this is definitely a characteristic of the genre, rather than any poor choices of the author. But I got very tired of the exaggerated male gaze; every woman is described in reference to her attractiveness or the attractiveness of her parts. In fact, the main character’s attraction to a certain pair of legs starts the whole thing off. And it’s just exasperated by the classic men are heroes women are victims storyline(s). In the end, I just didn’t particularly like Darvis or his worldview.

There were things I did like. Again, I thought the writing was fun, especially if you like the Dragnet-like dialogue or the traditional ‘gumshoe.’ The descriptions of Saint Louis are vivid (I happen to live in the Lou) and I really appreciated that it’s diverse. Not all the hookers are women, for example. I didn’t figure out the mysteries, which is something I always appreciate and it’s a stand-alone book. Plus, and I know this is almost irrelevant, but I read the paperback version and I just liked the typeset and binding style of it.

So, though I learned a little something about myself and my genre preferences, I can’t really knock the book for falling outside my circle of love. If you’re the sort who enjoys Noir, I recommend picking this one up, because the only true faults I found are personal pet peeves, not quality issues. It seems very true to what I expected out of a Noir novel.

Sweet Disorder

Book Review of Sweet Disorder (Lively St. Lemeston #1), by Rose Lerner

Sweet DisorderI bought a copy of Sweet Disorder, by Rose Lerner.

Description from Goodreads:
Nick Dymond enjoyed the rough-and-tumble military life until a bullet to the leg sent him home to his emotionally distant, politically obsessed family. For months, he’s lived alone with his depression, blockaded in his lodgings.

But with his younger brother desperate to win the local election, Nick has a new set of marching orders: dust off the legendary family charm and maneuver the beautiful Phoebe Sparks into a politically advantageous marriage.

One marriage was enough for Phoebe. Under her town’s by-laws, though, she owns a vote that only a husband can cast. Much as she would love to simply ignore the unappetizing matrimonial candidate pushed at her by the handsome earl’s son, she can’t. Her teenage sister is pregnant, and Phoebe’s last-ditch defense against her sister’s ruin is her vote—and her hand.

Nick and Phoebe soon realize the only match their hearts will accept is the one society will not allow. But as election intrigue turns dark, they’ll have to cast the cruelest vote of all: loyalty…or love.

Review:
I keep wanting to love Regency romance (so I keep trying them), there are so many out there, but every time I read one I’m reminded that this isn’t a genre that really works for me. Having said that, I liked this a lot more than most.

I liked that it was focused on middle-class people and small political machinations. I liked that Pheobe was given a lot of agency and that she was plump but still described as attractive. I liked a lot of the small ah-ha moments the book allows—the entrapment of manliness being as damaging as the rigid rules of femininity, the way men can coerce women into sex by playing on their socially engrained need to please without it being force but still be wrong, a real discussion between women about sex being enjoyable, etc. I liked that there were quite a lot of modern ideas discussed without it feeling anachronistic (often a particular pet peeve of mine). I liked that the characters, even the side characters, were almost all well developed.

There were aspects I didn’t like too, but few of them originated in this being Regency. I disliked the evil mothers. I didn’t understand why Pheobe’s was so horrible and I thought Nick’s held echoes of ‘you can’t have it all.’ While I appreciated that a mother was allowed to be as absent as a father, I also felt like it was one more message of ‘if you want to succeed in a career you can’t also succeed as a mother.’ Women can and do do both. Thank goodness Moon had a positive mother or I might have thought mothers villainized in general.

I didn’t think the person who caused the whole mess was adequately punished either. This wasn’t his story and I understand that, but I felt he was a shadow even in the reveal.

All in all, for being a genre I don’t love, I found myself charmed by this novel. Or rather not as viscerally put off by it as I am with most Regencies and that is saying a lot for it.

Hemovore

Book Review of Hemovore, by Jordan Castillo Price

HemovoreI bought a copy of Hemovore, by Jordan Castillo Price.

Description from Goodreads:
Ten years ago, the Human Hemovore Virus blazed through the world, and left the few victims who survived unable to eat, allergic to sunlight and craving the taste of blood.

Mark Jensen used to think V-positives were incredibly sexy with their pale, flawless skin and taut, lean bodies. Not anymore. Not since he’s been stuck procuring under-the-counter feline blood for his control-freak boss, Jonathan Varga. Why cat blood? Mark has never dared to ask.

It’s not as if he’s usually at a loss for words. He can dish an insult and follow it with a snap as quick as you can say “Miss Thang”. But one look at Jonathan’s black-as-sin gypsy eyes, and Mark’s objections drain away.

So he endures their strange, endless routine: Jonathan hiding in his studio, painting solid black canvases. Mark hurling insults as he buffs the office to a shine with antiviral wipes and maps out the mysterious “routes” he’s required to drive.

Then a blurb in Art in America unleashes a chain of events neither of them saw coming. As secrets of Jonathan’s past come to light, it becomes clear all his precautions weren’t nearly enough.

Review:
This is an excellent new (or at least different) take on the vampire story. There is just so much to appreciate in this novel. It’s fast paced, though more so in the last half than the first and there is a little bit of a lull toward the middle. It’s tightly plotted with an interesting shift in emphasis between the beginning and the end.

The characters are engaging, though I never quite felt I knew Jonathan as well as Mark, the primary POV. Plus, Jonathan seemed to have a little character drift between him in the beginning and him at the end. But I very much liked them both. I also very much appreciated the sexual tension, but the fact that there is very little actual sex.

The idea of vampirism as a disease isn’t a new one, but I don’t know that I’ve ever read a book in which it is so clinically addressed. I liked it. However, for a disease with an 85% mortality rate it seemed an odd forgone conclusion that the character in question would survive. I felt very little angst around this.

All in all, I really quite enjoyed this. But I’ve yet to read a JCP that I didn’t, so no big surprise there.