CHILD ZERO :: Chris Holm

As a huge fan of Chris Holm's work (go dig on The Killing Kind, I've been waiting with bated breath for Child Zero. On the other hand, I knew a bit about where this book was headed and was...let's say scairt. Holm is a super smartypants (molecular biologist) and I am a middling smartysock. When I got my copy I was elated and also, as I told him, "hoping it wasn't over my head." As usual, he had the best response: "If that's the case then I haven't done my job." I can now attest that Holm did his job to PERFECTION. 

One of the things I adore about Chris's writing is that while story is Job 1, character is Job 1A. Once again, he's nailed both in thrilling fashion. In a not-too-far-ahead future, we have continued to fuck up. Unchecked climate change results in a deadly virus being unleashed from the Siberian permafrost. Also, whoopsy!, it renders antibiotics useless. That hangnail you're nursing? That teeny scratch from your beloved Dashiell? They might now be the death of you.

Child Zero is the thrilling story of people trying to adapt to a horror landscape several years following a bioterror attack. We experience that terror through NYPD Detective Jake Gibson, who lost his wife in the attack and is raising his daughter Zoe alone. As we meet Jake, Zoe has a temperature high enough he is mandated to report it to the Department of Biological Security. But Jake knows what happens when a report is made and he's willing to risk everything to keep Zoe safe.

Jake's problems are multiplied when he's notified of a massacre at Park City, an encampment of refugees stranded when Manhattan was quarantined following the 8/17 bioterror attack. The scene makes it clear the assassins were looking for something or someone and Jake and his kickass partner Amira "Amy" Hassan need to figure it out quickly.  

As the Park City attack began, twelve-year-old Mateo Rivas was awakened by his uncle Gabriel and hurried to a planned escape route. Gabriel ensured Mat held a bound and wrapped package securely and remembered his instructions, then sent the boy out into the world via the sewer system.

 

What Mat possesses and why baddies might want it is at the core of Child Zero, a total barnburner from start to finish. The science is frighteningly on point and plausible, the characters are so well drawn you can't help but want more of them, and the sandbox the science and characters get to play in keeps the reader glued to the page. Holm's world-building is superb and, since the book was serendipitously (?) published during a pandemic, Holm has made it all too easy to imagine this world as our future.

If sciencey stuff makes you think twice, I'm here to tell you it's not an obstacle to your understanding or enjoyment. If science is your bag, there are more than enough juicy tidbits for you. If you are trying to escape pandemic reading, this didn't ring my "pandemic malaise" bell. Although we can all now sadly relate to many of the issues raised by the plot, Child Zero is still escapism at its finest. 

I don't have a ratings system or give stars, so I'm just going to lasso the galaxy and hand it to Child Zero.

MARION LANE AND THE MIDNIGHT MURDER :: T.A. Willberg

A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is republished here with permission.

"The alleyway was quiet tonight, the perfect setting for the conveyance of secrets" as an unidentified woman confides one she's held for seven years. This shadowy intrigue permeates the opening of T.A. Willberg's debut, Marion Lane and the Midnight Murder, sucking readers into a fun and fast-paced story filled with murder, mystery, lies and Bondian gadgetry in 1958 London.

The how and who of the transmission plunges the narrative into the bowels of the city, where myth and history reside. Behind a loose brick, a carrier cylinder connects with miles of underground pneumatic piping. The piping system, like a "magical, invisible postman," routes hundreds of hidden mailboxes to one location--the Filing Department of the Inquirers, nameless sleuths who guard the city. Because the department operates outside the legal system, no one is sure it exists, only that justice is often mysteriously served.

Marion Lane longs to escape from under the thumb of her grandmother, who disapproves of independent women having their own lives. Marion's life changes drastically when an old friend of her deceased mother offers her a job at Miss Brickett's Secondhand Books and Curiosities. But Miss Brickett's has no customers, and Marion soon understands she's been recruited as an apprentice Inquirer.

Willberg creates an exceptional sense of place, and her diverse (and expansive) cast of characters makes for a long list of suspects when receipt of the secret results in murder. Marion and her cohorts race against time, villains and devilishly entertaining contraptions to throw a wrench in an evil plot. 

THE WRONG FAMILY :: Tarryn Fisher

A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is republished here with permission.

When Juno Holland semi-accidentally winds up locked in the Seattle home of Winnie and Nigel Crouch while trespassing, she decides to take advantage of the opportunity to help them secretly. At 67, Juno has few pleasures left in life. Seriously ill and homeless after losing her family and her counseling practice, she wants to do some good before she dies. In The Wrong Family, Tarryn Fisher (The Wives) takes the unreliable narrator theme to a fascinating place as readers experience the Crouches, their teen son and extended family through Juno's damaged mind.

Nigel and Winnie are obviously at odds. As Juno overhears their late-night fights and accusations from her hidey hole, her curiosity and inner therapist begin to get the best of her. Confined to the house by the alarm system during the day, her food and drink forages expand to include snooping in drawers and on the computer. What she finds convinces her there are past wrongs that need to be set right--by any means necessary.

Fisher deftly weaves Winnie's experiences with Juno's, providing another viewpoint that keeps the puzzle pieces turning, searching for the sweet spot of the truth. The "perfect" life Winnie has cultivated can't erase the horrible thing she did that keeps her and Nigel forever bound yet separated by an emotional chasm. Unknown to Juno, Winnie's entire family is a powder keg; unknown to Winnie, Juno is working to bring the past into light. The combination makes for an explosive conclusion as the pieces fall into place. 

THE RETURN :: Rachel Harrison

A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is republished here with permission.

Rachel Harrison's horror thriller debut, The Return, is a gas. Elise, Molly and Mae are stunned when their friendship fourth, Julie, quickly marries a virtual stranger. It would have been the shock of their lives if Julie hadn't then gone missing. Exactly two years later, Julie shows up, unharmed but with no memory of what happened.

Mae sets up a reunion at the Red Honey Inn (a "pastel Frankenstein's monster" straight from "some warped fairy tale"), isolated in the Catskills. Prepared for Julie to be different, they're stunned when the strict vegetarian shows an unnerving love of meat. She's also understandably thin, but her skin has a bluish tint and "pools like melted wax."

Things head magnificently and creepily downhill. The hotel begins to smell like rot, footstep sounds abound and the televisions emit moaning sounds. Julie's condition worsens--her meat consumption becomes ravenous and she spits out teeth without care--and relationships start to fracture. With no idea what sinister corridor Harrison is heading down, there's no hope or desire but to hang on and read through dread-squinted eyes.

Harrison has a degree in writing for film and television and has worked on game shows and in publishing and finance. The Return is as thematically varied, but all the pieces fit into a terrific whole that's suspenseful to the end. "Whatever's happening now... it's going to catch up to us. It's going to grab us by the ankles and bring us down, not let us go. It's going to change us."

FOLLOW THE SUN :: Edward J. Delaney

A version of this review first appeared in Shelf Awareness and is reprinted here with permission.

Edward J. Delaney's Follow the Sun opens with a funeral for a missing man, "reduced to objects. In lieu of a body, just left-behind things." Quinn Boyle had been "in hand-to-hand combat with Peace" since he was a kid; a lobsterman from the age of 17, "mud-footed in obligations he could not shed." Following years of addiction and a stint in prison, Quinn was clean and free, yet imprisoned by his history, responsibilities and the "daily grip of his work." One day, Quinn and his lone crewman, a longtime adversary, fail to return from the sea.

Older brother Robbie is once again forced to take up Quinn's slack while trapped in his own morass of exes, part-time fatherhood and thankless work. Torn by survivor's guilt and the relief of Quinn's absence, Robbie's fragile peace is rocked by a report that his brother's crewman may be alive, sparking his need to investigate what happened on Quinn's last run.

Delaney (Broken Irish) writes with well-honed grit and artful description, be it the "obvious misery" of lobstering, withdrawal, or a daughter trying to know her father by using library books on handwriting analysis to study his birthday card notes. It is a very masculine perspective, the women tending toward henpecking support-seekers and foils, yet the men aren't painted pretty. Everyone seems smothered by the atmosphere and hard-knock life of a small fishing town with few available dreams or modes of escape. Delaney is wonderfully adept at working that atmosphere on his characters with compelling results.

STREET SENSE: This is one of those books where the atmosphere and/or characters may make you squirm, you might not like them much, but it just doesn't matter. The themes of family and responsibility are, if not recognizable in this specific form, generally universal, and Delaney explores them well.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE:  We think we make an imprint in the world and then find out it's so small, as small as crab's feet at the edge of the ocean, washed away by each pulsing wave.

Eh, I liked this one, too, so what the hell, you get both:

Waiting on a boat isn't like waiting for a man to emerge from a prison, where the date is determined and the time must be passed with patience, but also with calculation. Waiting for a boat is like waiting for something to happen imminently, when it then does not...Waiting for a boat is different. It's a thousand false sightings and a rising anxiety in which you tell yourself you're overreacting. But then it turns out, sometimes, you're not.

COVER NERD SAYS: As an ocean nerd (and also, yet less of, a sailing nerd) along with a cover nerd, this one spoke to me. There's nothing supremely striking about it, no image or font that screams "Pick me!" It may miss an audience that interprets what's here as more seriously "maritime-ish" than this book is, an audience that would fall for the family drama. Then again, I suppose normal people (not me) read cover copy and will hopefully figure out this one IS more than its cover.

WATCH THE GIRLS :: Jennifer Wolfe

A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is reprinted here with permission.

One can't help but become ensnared by Watch the Girls even before the first chapter opens. Starting with Jennifer Wolfe's dedication to her agent, "for liking it weird," followed by a John Updike quote, "Celebrity is a mask that eats into the face," Wolfe's nods to the odd are spot on, and the creepiness of the thriller is utterly engrossing.

Fifteen years after her youngest sister's disappearance, former teen star Olivia Hill (now Liv Hendricks) has distanced herself from her family, been fired from the Scooby-Doo-esque reality mystery show Bullsh?t Hunters and crowdfunded her own web series to explore unsolved mysteries. This lands her in the small central California town of Stone's Throw, secretly hired by local horror film auteur Jonas Kron to investigate the disappearance of several young blonde women from aptly named Dark Road just outside of town. The secluded mountain village is as quaint as it is bizarre; home to apple orchards, a film festival, a wolf sanctuary and the lore of the Ulv Konge ("Wolf King"), a nightmarish creature created by Kron.

Wolfe, who also writes YA as Jennifer Bosworth (Struck), twists together a wide spectrum of themes on an action-packed track through Crazy Town. With dark woods, missing women, eccentric locals, unsettling wolf masks, secret messages and nighttime stalkers, Watch the Girls has all the nightmare fuel of great horror movie camp mixed with an absorbing mystery. Although it strays into implausibility as Liv's past timeline converges with her present, there is no denying Girls is "nervously-eat-an-entire-box-of-cookies-without-realizing-it" good.

STREET SENSE:  Wolfe handles the mixed genres in an impressive manner and there is no doubt this is a compulsive read. Those factors help with the stretching of credibility that goes on, but if it's realism you're looking for, horror/camp-ish titles aren't your bag anyway. This one is just straight creepy fun, with some scenes that might be skip-worthy for the squeamish.

COVER NERD SAYS: I definitely appreciate the simplicity of this cover. The camera eye, along with the title, surely evoke the creepiness within. I wasn't altogether sure what girls were being watched by whom, but this cover really made me want to find out.

BEFORE THE FALL :: Noah Hawley

"Since when does how a thing looks matter more than what it is?"

Noah Hawley's latest has been billed as "the thriller of the summer." I won't quibble with that. It is indeed a page-turner that held me rapt from beginning to end, and there's certainly nothing wrong with that label, per se. If anything, I would argue that it sells the book short.

Before the Fall hit me in the guts but good. Not the mystery, which certainly involves tragedy, but the social commentary wrapped up in the mystery. Or perhaps it's the other way around and the mystery was really wrapped up in the social commentary. Either way you look at it, the book is a rightfully scathing look at how society reacts to tragedies these days.

Between the time I finished the book and started this review (the above two paragraphs), the devastating events in Orlando unfolded. Within hours, media was camped outside the home of the shooter's wife's family, located on the opposite coast in California. Granted, there is a huge story here, with much to learn and investigate, but how do we balance the right to privacy v. the right to information? How are these stories being sussed out and vetted? Are they being vetted at all or just being used to feed the media frenzy?

In Hawley's gripping thriller, eleven people get on a private plane for a quick hop home from Martha's Vineyard - a wealthy media mogul with his wife and two children, the mogul's body man, a friend/business associate (who is about to be indicted for his slimy financial dealings) and his wife, three crew members, and Scott Burroughs, a forty-something painter trying to revive his career, who had been invited along at the last minute by his acquaintance Maggie, the wife of the media mogul.

Not long after takeoff, the plane crashes into the ocean. Scott is one of two survivors. From there, Hawley takes the reader down various tracks. Interspersed with sections regarding the background of each person on the plane, Hawley takes us through the events following the crash, from Scott's perspective and that of the FBI/NTSB investigation.

Scott is hounded by the media, his house surrounded, causing him to hide out to avoid the constant intrusion. Of course, that does not stop the scrutiny and only feeds the machine on another level, as speculation regarding his relationship with Maggie and the woman whose house he's staying in become hot "news." There is no escape, for if Scott doesn't make himself available, the media still finds something to print.

So much of Before the Fall spoke to me on a visceral level about what occurs in real life after a tragedy. By going through each of the crash victims, Hawley is, of course, providing tidbits of information that fold into the mystery of whether the crash was an accident and, if not, might someone on the plane have been the cause. But these backgrounds were also a reminder that people lost their lives. They were not just statistics or news stories, they were human beings with their own stories and hopes and dreams and loves and flaws. Of course, these were fictional people, but this is something we can all stand to be reminded outside of the reading experience.

Through a completely villainous media character, Hawley also focuses on how news is sourced and presented. I thought the Bill Cunningham character was a perfect personification of how the need to hit the public with hot topics and scandal and beat the other guy to a story seem to win out over dignity and fairness and, perhaps, even truth. I'm trying to think of the last character I disliked so much, and anytime an author can evoke that level of feeling about a character, something is being done right.

I'm going way far afield here, but I found these aspects of Before the Fall really well done. They were not preachy so didn't seem out of place, and since they were perfectly commingled with a page-turning mystery, the reader doesn't have to buy into them or even acknowledge them to enjoy the book.

STREET SENSE:  If you like a page-turning mystery, don't hesitate to pick this one up. All the better if you enjoy character studies and a little social realism to go along with it. If it's huge twists and shocking revelations you live and die for, this might not scratch your itch, but I felt the conclusion was quite satisfying, particularly when I found so much of import along the way.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE:  Once anointed a hero by your fellow man, you lose the right to privacy. You become an object, stripped of some unquantifiable humanity, as if you have won a cosmic lottery and woke one day to find yourself a minor deity. The Patron Saint of Good Luck. It stops mattering what you wanted for yourself. All that matters is the role you played in the lives of others. You are a rare butterfly held roughly at a right angle to the sun.

COVER NERD SAYS:  As a Blue-Minder, almost anything having to do with water, particularly the ocean, catches my eye, so this cover had a leg up. Even taking that into consideration I like this cover a whole bunch. The foggy image of the ocean and horizon are perfect for a mystery, and while font/title tricks can sometimes go awry, I think this one was clever and well done. This is a solid cover that would definitely catch my eye on a bookshop table.

THE DARKEST CORNERS :: Kara Thomas

"You're probably wondering what kind of person would let her father die alone for two hundred dollars. But my father shot and nearly killed a convenience store owner for a lot less than that - and a carton of cigarettes."

Ten years ago, a serial killer was on the loose in Fayette, Pennsylvania. Tessa and her best friend Callie were seven years old when their eyewitness accounts of a crime that hit close to home sent the Ohio River Monster to death row.

Tessa's life was less than stellar, and it only worsened after the Monster went to jail. Abandoned by her beloved sister and troubled mother, her father in prison, Tessa was sent to Florida to live with a grandmother she'd never met. She lost touch with Callie, due to the distance created by geography and the fact that they never discussed what really happened "that night."

When Tessa returns to Fayette to visit her dying father, all the loose ends of her past are forced into her present. Are her sister and mother still nearby? If so, why didn't they contact her? Why did her sister leave? Is Callie so messed up because she's questioning their recounting of the events of ten years ago? Is the wrong man in jail? Is Tessa's father connected to the killings?

Kara Thomas' YA thriller The Darkest Corners delves into these and other mysteries surrounding Tessa's past. When another girl is murdered shortly after Tessa's arrival back in Fayette, Tessa and Callie have to decide how to deal with doubts about their testimony and the fact that the real killer might still be at large.

Although hampered a bit by multiple mystery arcs (see all the questions above and add a few), The Darkest Corners held my interest to the end. I thought the teens, their actions, and relationships were well drawn, and I felt  empathy for Tessa and Callie.

There are few things with a greater potential to be annoying than teenagers taking on the investigation of a serial killer (or any crime, really; maybe even just teenagers period). Obviously, for the sake of the story some envelopes needed pushing, but thankfully, Thomas mostly avoids having her teen characters take actions that are too far-fetched.

I found the ultimate reveal to be pretty satisfying, though it did take a couple of eye-rolling turns to get there. I can't imagine the kind of cellphone case one would have to own in order for it to be recognized while held to one's ear in a dark car by someone well outside said dark car. Maybe it's just me (or some serious bedazzling), but that and a few other moments (including a murder conveniently occurring after a ten year gap just when Tessa returns to town) kept this from being a four-star read.

I enjoyed it, it flowed well, I was invested in the characters and their struggles. As a "far-from-teen," I'm not the target audience for this work. I think it will have a wide appeal with younger readers and I appreciate the fact that it highlighted smart and strong female characters.

STREET SENSE: A solid YA mystery/suspense thriller with a satisfying reveal. The Darkest Corners will appeal to those who enjoy family and friend drama, themes of teens in distress and in investigation mode, serial killer stories, and who don't mind a few convenient plot turns.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE:  When I think of my old neighborhood, I think of anger. Of crumbling town houses squashed together so tightly, you can see right into your neighbor's kitchen. I think of angry old men on their porches, complaining about the cable company or the Democrats or their social security checks not arriving on time.

COVER NERD SAYS:  There's always a danger, in my mind, in putting a large photograph of a person's face on  your cover. I think people have more varied, and maybe even stronger, reactions to faces more than other art. (Does it remind them of someone they love? A former foe?) I also think readers like to picture their own characters. I'm obviously picking a nit here and maybe it's mine alone. I did like the visual of this cover, particularly the picture looking like it's been torn apart and pieced back together (a bit of a plot parallel). I like the tag-line and the fonts. They don't make me say wow, but they certainly did their job, I picked up the book.

THE 6:41 TO PARIS :: Jean-Philippe Blondel

"No one ever warned us that life would be long."

Imagine being trapped on a train with the worst nightmare from your past.

I wish I could remember where and from whom I heard about Jean-Philippe Blondel's The 6:41 to Paris, because that individual deserves all the credit for me reading it and passing along the joy. The blurb was very brief, but it (along with the page count of 146) was intriguing enough that I immediately requested the book from my library. I was not disappointed, this is a stellar work. If you were the one who wrote about it, please step up and take your kudos and my thanks.

The premise is simple, the execution sublime. Cecile is a successful business owner, on her way home from a stressful weekend with her parents ("There comes an age where you find yourself trapped between indifferent children and recalcitrant parents. That's all there is to it. I'm forty-seven years old. I'm right in the middle of it.").

The seat next to hers is the only one left on the train (there's a wonderfully spot-on passage about the pro and con psychology of this situation), and to Cecile's horror it is taken by Philippe Luduc. Horror because Philippe and Celeste have a past: four months of dating some 27 years ago that to describe as 'ended poorly' would be a severe understatement.

As the train gets under way, so does the suspense and tension. Cecile and Philippe pretend not to know each other, and the alternating visits with their internal monologues and emotions during the ride are nothing short of fascinating and excruciating. We visit their pasts and their presents, the emotion of both and the impact their brief, long-ago relationship had on each of them and who they became.

I'm guessing we've all had those moments, an experience, however brief, that scarred us and set us off on a different path, maybe impacting us well into the future and perhaps even in the present. I know I have. It was nothing like what happened between Cecile and Philippe, but it was enough that I felt a kindred understanding of this work. I wondered what I would do if I was confronted with Cecile's situation. I think I know, but that didn't make reading this masterpiece of emotion, psychology, and sociology any less taut or vivid.

Author Kati Marton put it perfectly when she said of this book (which she called "A taut, suspenseful psychological journey from which there is no escape"): "The 6:41 to Paris shatters any illusions that acts of cruelty committed in our youth are of little consequence later in life."

Despite its length, I could quote from this exceptional book ad nauseam (and I'm stalling because I know I have to try and pick just one below). Translated from French, I doubt it has lost anything in the language swap, but it makes me want to learn French just to read it in the author's native tongue.

STREET SENSE:  This brilliant little book will definitely be on my list of best reads for the year. Despite my fear that there was no way to bring it to a successful or satisfying conclusion, Blondel did so while at the same time leaving me knowing there was more and yearning for it. Genius.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE:  She hasn't reacted, either. She doesn't remember me. So much the better, in the end. I have to keep one thing in mind: most people have a 'delete' key which they will press at a given time, when their brain is about to overflow after all the misunderstandings and betrayals, all the hurt and disgrace - and when that happens, entire chunks of your existence disappear along with face, names, addresses, colors, everything goes out the window into the sewers of the unconscious.

Bonus passage!

The ant.
Do you know I still think about that, a lot?
You never imagine that certain phrases can stick, buried in your skin like splinters, and that at certain moments in life they come back and wreck everything.
My grandfather had fought at Verdun. He was very young. A shell exploded a few yards away from him. He had shrapnel in his legs all his life, and from time to time, with the changing seasons, a shell fragment would say, Give him my kind regards.
Those two words were my shell fragments.

COVER NERD SAYS:  This was a rare occasions where I knew I wanted to read this book before I had any clue what the cover looked like. I'm not sure if this one would have attracted me on its own or not. It does evoke some mystery, as it gives up little in the way of content. Those faces intrigue me. I'm not a huge fan of the color palette, but for some reason the cover still speaks to me. That may simply be hindsight love, but I'm ok with that.

THE PASSENGER :: Liza Lutz

There was a time I used to cry, but that was another lifetime ago.

If Lisa Lutz is not yet a "must-read" author for you, she should be. There are plenty of writers out there who can change voice and emotion and genre, but I'm not sure anyone does it any better than Lisa.

She's written the Spellman series (get on that one, for real), which is a wonderful mystery series full of humor and yet not lacking for substantive relationships and emotion. Last year she wrote the amazingly complex (in structure, it read absolutely beautifully) How to Start a Fire, which was not only one of the most powerful relationship novels I've ever read, but one of my favorite reads of the year. Yet it, too, wasn't lacking for humor or mystery. It was similar batter, but an entirely different cake. No matter what recipe Lutz is cooking with, you'll want to eat that cake until you're nauseous. And I mean that in the most positive of ways.

Lisa has again switched gears and done something a bit different with her recipe. The Passenger came out a week ago today and it is a straight-up suspense thriller. And you will want to sit somewhere comfy with your Pepto, because this is one you won't want to put down.

Never mind the suspense thriller label. Lisa's cake will still kick your ass with humor and meaning (tiring of this analogy? If you're tiring of references to dessert items you're in the wrong damn place, my friend).

Here's the thing about Lisa Lutz. She is so masterful that, in the words of Bill Murray's Trip Harrison, "it just doesn't matter." It JUST. DOES. NOT. MATTER. She has the ability at any time, in any genre, to crush you and your emotional well-being like a bug.

In The Passenger, we meet Tanya Dubois not long after she finds her husband's dead body at the base of the stairs, dyes her hair, takes cash from her credit cards, demands a new identity from an unknown source over the phone, and takes off on the run.

It is soon apparent that this is not Tanya's first time running, nor is Tanya really Tanya. Who she is, where she came from, what set her on the run and why she's kept running are what Lutz cranks out in fine fashion through the course of the book.

Of course, nothing seems to come easy for Tanya, and we follow Lutz's protagonist through several iterations of "on-the-lam" persona. Each is different because Tanya (I'm calling her Tanya for ease of reference) has to become someone different in order to escape her past (which is niftily hinted at via email missives sent and received over the years). After each new identity, something or someone different forces Tanya to once again change colors and hit the road. I will tell you no more, and not much more need be said. This is one that brings everything to an emotional and satisfying conclusion. You'll want to get your hands on it.

STREET SENSE:  For fans of suspense dramas or thrillers, The Passenger has the added bonus of Lisa Lutz's humor and depth. And it's always fun to think about Lisa's titles, before, during, and after.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE:  I sat across from an older gentleman with the cloudy eyes of glaucoma. He smiled at what I imagined was the shadow of me. There was something comforting in knowing that I couldn't really be seen. Although no one had seen me in a long time.

Bonus passage!

I chose to run because I figured that would give me the best chance at something like living. And that's exactly what it was. Something like living.

COVER NERD SAYS:  I am a sucker for a dark road cover, so I was definitely the right audience for this one. It hits on all cylinders, from font to palette to fade-outs. This cover is evidence that you don't need a lot of bells and whistles or girls in coats or cats with spoons to evoke feeling and attraction in readers.

THE CHILDREN'S HOME :: Charles Lambert

I'm only a child but already I have understood the wickedness of the world.

I'm writing about Charles Lambert's The Children's Home because I finished it a while back and I'm still thinking about it. And I can't figure out how I feel about it. It's weird. Weird can be good. It's creepy, and creepy is often great. I'm just not certain there was enough substance to carry the weight of the creep and the weird to the finish line. The ending fell somewhat flat, and while normally that would irk me to no end, I can't say I didn't enjoy the ride. Despite feeling a bit unfulfilled, I didn't dislike the book. In fact, I actually really liked it. Which might be the weirdest thing of all.

So why did I pick up the book? Hello?! Have you seen this cover? (More on that later, but really, look):

Morgan Fletcher is a shut-in (where and when is anyone's guess), living alone in his family's mansion behind a wall erected during earlier, troubled times (of which we really get  no real description or explanation). Morgan has lived this way, without interaction from the outside world, since a disfiguring childhood incident.

Years later, a woman named Engel shows up to tend to him and the house, an idea Morgan presumes is the brainchild of his estranged sister, Rebecca, since Engel seems to know so much about him. Shortly thereafter, odd kids of all different ages start showing up on the property out of nowhere. Often creepily (as if there's any other way, but still, just to be clear):

One morning, shortly after breakfast, Morgan was standing by the drawing room window and gazing out into the garden when a square of air above the lawn seemed to ripple as though it were silk and a knife had been drawn across it, and a child appeared on the lawn and began to walk towards the house, perfectly confident, it seemed, that she would be received. As she was.

If you are watching and loving the original French version of the television series The Returned (running on Sundance and available through Netflix), then this book is probably your jam. Imagine a bunch of little Victors showing up out of nowhere and inhabiting the mysterious old house of a scarred recluse, disappearing and reappearing seemingly at will, and just when said recluse needs quiet or thinks of them.

So the kids are now part of the house, and they wander around finding weird things, sometimes seriously eerie and bizarre things, things undiscovered even by Morgan, who has lived in the house his entire life. Morgan wonders about the kids, *I* wondered about the kids. There is constant kid-wondering throughout the book:

He knew there was a mystery about these children, and not only in the nature of their arrival, but he pushed the thought aside.

There are times I think they were all together before they came here, whenever they were, wherever that was.

"It's as though they came from the air," he said.

Young David may be creepiest slash best of all. He learns to read and soon enough wants to, and does, teach the others, regardless of their age. Then they start studying Morgan's library. David constantly references something foreboding, something he wants to "be a surprise." He is the source of passages like this:

Why should I have spoken to David? With a sense of fear he couldn't understand, he wondered, And what would David have said? Do I need David's consent before I do things? Who is he? What does he want from me? 

A moan of disappointment rose from the backseat, but David turned round swiftly and hushed them. "He's right. Not yet," he said. "We're still not ready." "Ready for what?" said Morgan. David was normally so patient. But this time he said, "How many times must you ask and not be told before you stop? Why can't you just wait?"

The Doctor shivered as David reached into the pram and gathered something in his arms. The children sighed with pleasure and the Doctor gave a short, involuntary cry, like a bark, which sounded to him as though it had come from someone else, from somewhere close by. David was clutching a severed head to his chest.

Intrigued now, aintcha? Just wait until David starts saying, "The time will come. You'll see."

The the men in the black car show up. OMINOUS. I really had little clue what was going on. I'm still not sure I have a clue what was going on. But the story and the writing were so atmospheric, and the ambiance of menace hung about so wonderfully, and the arc of magical realism was just so funnily bizarre that I'm not sure I mind as much as I would normally.

I marked a ton of passages and still enjoy them so much I can't narrow them down to quote a few here. As I read each one for this review, I thought, "Oh yeah, that was great, but what in the ever-loving hell WAS IT and how do I explain it?" There is an ending, though I'm not sure what exactly it was. I'm not selling this very well, am I? I'm not sure I should be. And yet it was kind of awesome, and I want someone to read this and tell me that they don't get it either but they liked it as much as I did. So, someone get on that, eh?

STREET SENSE: I'm not even sure what to say here, other than I read this book several weeks ago and it is still the cause of curiosity for me. I have enjoyed reading over the passages and being reminded of the feelings I had when I read it. Confusion, angst, anticipation, more confusion. If you like atmospheric, creepy reads, get on this one. Then explain it to me.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE: He imagined himself the dirty secret at the heart of the world, the overlooked madwoman raving in the attic of a house that occupied everything there was, each brick and pane and board, the wondering prince in the hair-filled mask of iron he had dreamt of as a boy and never been able to forget.

COVER NERD SAYS:  I was sold from the cover of this one before I knew the first thing about the plot (which is about the same as I know now - bazinga!). I can't even really describe how much and why I love this cover. It's so evocative of danger and violence, yet also artistic and beautiful. A mix of natural and man-made with a hint of devastation rolled in. It also reminds me of this picture I took of some burned bushes near my house, which were both ugly in their burned devastation and beautiful where the burnt ashy skin had broken and the new red surface was showing through. I think I'd best go before you all find out I'm as weird as this book.

A HEAD FULL OF GHOSTS :: Paul Tremblay

Lock up your siblings and hide under the covers, this one's a corker. If you're a fan of spooky creepy and/or psychological suspense, Paul Tremblay's A Head Full of Ghosts is your spirit book (no pun intended). The story is told from three perspectives - present day 23-year-old Meredith "Merrie" Barrett sharing the story of her childhood with best-selling author Rachel Neville, flashbacks to the horror that befell the Barrett family fifteen years ago (where we spend most of our time), and mysterious blog posts detailing the events and the reality show that chronicled them. It's a catalog of perspectives, none of which can be counted on as reliable, which only heightens the sense of dread and apprehension Tremblay aptly creates.

The trouble begins at a difficult time. John Barrett has lost his long-time job, and the financial pressures are putting a strain on his marriage as his wife Sarah tries to hold everything together. Fourteen-year-old Marjorie and eight-year-old Merry cope as best they can, Marjorie often setting aside her teenage ways and "closed-door policy" to tell stories to Merry.

But Marjorie's stories begin to turn dark, and her behavior soon follows. She tells Merry "green growing things" are going to take over the world and everyone will die. She claims her possessions rearrange themselves in her room while she sleeps, speaks in voices, and rages about the ghosts she hears in her head, how there are too many and she can't escape them.

It's apparent to everyone Marjorie is having a psychological break. Or is she?

Psychiatry and medication don't help and Marjorie's behavior worsens. It gets louder, scarier, more physical, and more pronounced, along with the family fractures. All the while, Marjorie is giving Merry mixed messages, on one hand claiming she's faking, while on the other hand warning Merry to remember her stories in order to save herself.

I said, "It's okay. But you'll get better, right? Then we'll tell normal stories, like we used to. It'll be fun."
"No. You have to remember the story about the two sisters. You have to remember all my stories because there are - there are all these ghosts filling my head and I'm just trying to get them out, but you have to remember the story about the two sisters especially. Okay? You have to. Please say, 'Okay.'"
Marjorie was just a shadow on the bed. She could've been a pile of blankets, twisted and discarded. I couldn't see her eyes or her spaghetti-sauce-stained chin.
When I didn't answer her, she screamed as though she were being attacked; so loud it lifted my feet off the floor and pushed me backwards.
"Say, 'Okay,' Merry! Say it!"
I didn't. And I ran out of the room.

John begins taking solace in religion; praying for guidance and spending much of his time at the local church. Becoming more and more convinced Marjorie is possessed by an evil spirit, he seeks the counsel of Father Wanderly. At desperate ends financially, the Barretts agree to let The Discovery Channel come into their home and film the family trying to cope with Marjorie's condition, including a planned exorcism.

Things get downright crazypants in the Barrett house, and A House Full of Ghosts grabbed me and held me pretty well captive. Tremblay had me fully engaged and tense as hell trying to get to the resolution, which was a true gut-puncher and turned the book into something special. Tremblay did a fantastic job keeping me guessing, trying to figure out which character's voice to believe, especially when they all seemed a bit off their respective rockers at various times. I doubted Marjorie, I doubted Merry, I doubted everyone. Well done.

There were a few snags. I found the blog posts truly annoying. A decent premise utilized to provide a "third eye" view and recap of the reality show aired during "the troubles," they failed in the execution. Obviously written by an adult (they discuss patriarchy and urtext), they sound like they were written like a tween on speed, mixing in all caps, line outs, childish snark, and cringe-worthy vocabulary like "for realsies." It helped there were only three of them, but one dropped a major plot point (a spoiler, if there can be such a thing within the book being spoiled) as a seeming afterthought.

Adult Merry also had a strange way of communicating that left me a bit cold. I loved Merry as an 8-year-old, but had something of a disconnect with 23-year-old  Merry. Grown Merry uses the term "physical artifacts" when discussing books and muses (three times) over the possibility that she is "conflating" her memories with all of the urban legends, media coverage and pop culture references she's been bombarded with over the years. This disconnect may have been intentional, as Merry is obviously a bit messed up from the events of her childhood and has turned into something of a recluse. My reaction may have been what was intended by the author, but I was sorry for that disconnect.

Overall, I thought A Head Full of Ghosts was a terrific read and a fantastic mix of genres. I don't read much "horror" and a book including an exorcism wouldn't normally be in my wheelhouse. But Tremblay has written a story so full of questions and doubt you're never sure what it's going to turn into and I loved that feeling. While potentially clunky in less able hands, I thought the author handled the mix seamlessly, and this is one of my favorite reads from the first half of the year.

STREET SENSE: If you like scary movies, psychological suspense, potentially unreliable narration, family drama, thrillers and/or sympathetic characters, A Head Full of Ghosts is for you. Doesn't leave many of you out, does it? It's an engrossing page-turner for sure, and will more than likely keep you on the edge of your seat until the end takes the air out of you. While it does likely fit the horror genre, it's not gory horror (though there was one brief tidbit that squicked me a bit, and I'm a tough sell), so not to worry if that's not your thing.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE:  There was a lot to like about Tremblay's writing and I'm going to pick two, one to give you a flavor for the book and the other just because I love the line:

My cardboard house's outer walls, the windowsill flower boxes, the slate roof, and even the chimney, were scarred with detailed vines and leaves drawn in sharp black outlines and colored in green with Magic Marker. Her growing things choked my house. In the window was a piece of paper with two Richard Scarrey-style cats drawn so they were peering out of the window and at me. The cats were sisters. The bigger sister wore a gray hooded sweatshirt and looked ill, her eyes glassy and droopy lidded. The little sister was wide-eyed, determined, and had glasses on.
I got out of bed quickly and didn't wake Mom. I plucked the picture out of the window. Written on the bottom was the following:

There's nothing wrong with me, Merry. Only my bones want to

grow through my skin like the growing things and pierce the world.

* * *

"I won't, sweetie. I promise" Her promise wasn't a real one. It was simply the dot at the end of her sentence.

COVER NERD SAYS: This cover did a lot to win me over, including the fact that it took me a minute to figure it out. Once I did, there was no way I wasn't reading the book. I love the image and the palette, but most of all I love the rotation, which is something I haven't seen very often. Very well done.