Wulf C. Krueger

No energy for reviews, part 1: Excellent! I love the team dynamics (Tiff!), Kim as always, and pretty much everthing about this one. Read it.

I’ve had a hard time reading “The Glass Castle” by Jeannette Walls. Walls describes the horrors (and a few good times, few and far between) of her childhood and adolescence.

While I kept wishing someone had intervened, I still felt thoroughly disengaged from the memoir. Walls describes everything without allowing any emotions to shine through. “Glass Castle” reads like it has been written by a detached observer. It’s a sterile, antiseptic report, which is undoubtedly well-written but, to me, not very interesting.

Only during the very first chapter are there any meaningful emotional components and in her acknowledgements, Walls states being “grateful [...] to my father, Rex S. Walls, for dreaming all those big dreams”. These are the dreams of a man who repeatedly tried to sell his own daughter to strangers to rape her. Moreover, he goes on to victim-blame her.

Walls is also grateful to her mother “for believing in art and truth” - a truth her mother gaslit her children away from, and a truth that includes possession of land worth a million that’s being kept in the family for no reason at all while the kids literally starve, freeze, and suffer from neglect, among other hardships.

Don’t get me wrong: Walls, just like anyone else, is, of course, welcome to feel and think any way she likes. Nevertheless, what precedent does that set for other parents like hers?

In different ways, I have my own childhood traumas caused by my father (and was blamed for them by my mother). I breathe more freely since his death in August 2024. Hadn’t it been for the misplaced piety of others, I would have had him dumped into my mother’s grave, alone with an undertaker.

Three stars out of five for the effort.

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A clever and chilling thriller that blends psychological depth, intense suspense, and emotional storytelling as Kim Stone’s past is dragged back into the present.

“Dead Memories”, the 10th instalment in Angela Marsons’ brilliant “D.I. Kim Stone” series, was yet another great read. As I state so often in these reviews - this one is the best one yet.

This time, Kim is brutally haunted by her past: A murderer is recreating the traumas of Kim’s time in the child care system. Many of these have already been featured in earlier novels but some of them are new to the reader and truly horrible. While this novel is not as dark as some of its predecessors, there is one scene of sexualised violence against a child. You have been warned.

Marsons wouldn’t be Marsons, though, if she didn’t manage to create an extremely well-balanced, suspenseful, and, at its core, very humane novel out of this. Apart from the well-established team by now, including Penn, who is increasingly developing into a favourite character of mine…

»‘Good job, Penn, bloody good job.’

‘Thanks, boss.’«

… we’re encountering some old acquaintances like behaviourist Alison and others.

»‘You don’t trust me,’ Alison blurted out, coloured and looked away.

‘I do,’ Kim protested. ‘Well, as much as I trust anyone… actually… okay… you got me.’

To her surprise Alison laughed out loud but it wasn’t the derisive sound of a few moments earlier. This was hearty and came from her stomach.«

Stacey also features prominently and plays a much deserved major role in the side story in which she has a particularly great moment…

»‘I believe her,’ said Stacey, standing up behind him. ‘I’m Detective Constable Wood and I just heard every word.’«

It’s probably best to go into this one blind and it might not quite lend itself to being read as a stand-alone if one wants the optimal experience out of it even though it’s so good, it can also serve as an entrance to the series should one insist.

Either way, this one was yet another spectacular success!

Five out of five stars.

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I wish I could have enjoyed “Before I Let Go” by Kennedy Ryan more than I did because there is a lot to like in it: Yasmen and Josiah Wade are divorced after suffering devastating losses and finding out they’re incompatible in their respective grieving. Nevertheless, they run a successful restaurant together and do their best at co-parenting. So far, so good.

Told in dual points of view, from both Yasmen’s and Josiah’s perspectives, the novel—very obviously a second chance romance—tells the story of how both grow and, ultimately, find their way back together.

In terms of writing, I have absolutely no complaints: Ryan's prose is confident and elegant. Depending on the perspective and context, she succeeds in striking the right tone: sometimes clear and straightforward, sometimes light and playful, sometimes metaphorical and powerful.

»That kind of depression is blunter than sadness. Sharper than misery. It is the impenetrable dark of midnight deepened with the blackest strokes of blue—a bruise on your spirit that seems like it will never fade. Until one day…it finally does. With the help of the woman on-screen, it did.«

Having grappled with depression myself for most of my life, I have a sliver of comprehension (because depression is different for everyone) both intellectually and emotionally about what Ryan addresses. I very much appreciate the raw honesty with which this complex topic is approached here. Ryan writes sensitively, empathetically, and honestly about it. A central point is the willingness—despite initial scepticism—to seek professional help and go to therapy.

The importance of seeking and getting professional help cannot be overstated and not repeated often-enough.

»It is not an exaggeration to say Dr. Abrams—with her always-on-point silk-pressed hair, fashionable blouses and pencil skirts, and watching, wise eyes—changed my life. I trust her implicitly, and she has taught me more about trusting myself.«

All those years ago, I was hesitant. Therapy? For me? What’s that supposed to do? And isn’t that conceding failure? No, it isn’t. I was anxious about it at first, too, and when I took up therapy again a few years ago, I was anxious again—despite knowing better. Today, I’m better in every single department of my life—and YOU could be, too! (And I don’t mind communicating about it so if you “need an ear”, feel free to contact me.)

I really liked Yasmen because despite her losses and resulting grief (which I cannot even start to comprehend), she is still around. When she finally knows what she wants, she finds her authentic voice and communicates admirably.

Josiah on the other hand is very much in avoidance, in denial, and self-chosen isolation. I understand he’s afraid of loss and almost mortally afraid of opening those “boxes” in his mind he uses to compartmentalise. I had a hard time enjoying his rather quick change from rough and blunt “alpha male” to “can you see me at almost no notice?” person in therapy.

I also found out I don’t like “second chance” scenarios: Both Yasmen and Josiah try to move on despite still feeling very strongly about each other. Their respective love interests felt like “stuffing material” and, for me, didn’t add much to the story but instead distracted from it. This is me and not the novel but I strongly disliked both of them.

I still feel strongly conflicted about the way Ryan spells out everything in detail: I often found myself wishing she would have just let some observations stand on their own (which they easily could have) without spelling their significance out. On the other hand, when I just went looking for an example, I found myself conflicted again and failed at choosing because perhaps it is, in fact, necessary.

I liked Yasmen’s and Josiah’s children Kassim and Deja (and, as a father myself, found them depicted convincingly), and, surprisingly for me, they really added to the story and made the entire novel more convincing and authentic.

There are a few minor niggles I must not fail to mention because they round out the picture: Yasmen’s original wedding ring is described as a “simple gold band and chip diamond ring”—modest, humble, and perfect. The new ring is a “large square-cut diamond on a thick platinum band”. The kids go to an expensive private school and one of them is only reluctantly permitted to enrol in a public school. And yet, Ryan makes Josiah say this:

»“Rich guys, Yas. Privileged men used to getting what they want whenever they want all the time.”

“Some might argue, considering the car you drive, the neighborhood you live in, the clothes you wear, and the cash you drop on sneakers without blinking, that you’re a rich guy yourself.”«

This results in cognitive dissonance because it feels like the author is trying to have it both ways—critiquing wealth and privilege while the characters themselves appear to be privileged. It feels like it's undermining the authenticity of the story.

Despite it all, “Before I Let Go” remains an engaging and worthwhile read. It’s just not a story or scenario I’m enjoying very much. Your mileage may vary.

Three stars out of five.

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Back to reviewing after a nasty encounter with the flu or something.

Angela Marsons’ “Fatal Promise” is another solid entry in the D.I. Kim Stone series, though it doesn’t quite reach the heights of some of its predecessors.

One of the standout aspects of this instalment is the introduction of a new team member, Penn, who brings a different dynamic to the group. Marsons handles this addition well, allowing the character to integrate naturally into the existing team while also providing enough backstory to make him feel fully realised.

The novel also delves deeper into Kim Stone’s personal struggles, particularly how she deals with loss and grief. Marsons has always excelled at balancing the professional and personal lives of her characters, and “Fatal Promise” is no exception. Kim’s growth as a character is evident, and her resilience in the face of adversity continues to make her one of the most compelling protagonists in crime fiction.

The plot itself is well-constructed, with enough twists and turns to keep readers guessing. Marsons’ ability to weave together multiple storylines is on full display here, and the pacing is tight, ensuring that the reader is never bored. However, compared to some of the earlier books in the series, “Fatal Promise” feels slightly less groundbreaking.

That said, the novel still manages to deliver a satisfying conclusion, with all loose ends tied up neatly. The resolution is both logical and emotionally resonant, a testament to Marsons’ skill as a storyteller.

While it may not be the most groundbreaking instalment, it offers enough new elements and character development to keep fans engaged. If you’re a fan of the series, this is definitely worth your time. If you’re new to Marsons’ work, I’d recommend starting with some of the earlier books to fully appreciate the depth of the characters and the world she has created.

Four stars out of five.

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Murder at an elite British boarding school where secret societies wield immense influence and control over practically every single pupil—for their entire life. A shady principal, a counselor with secrets, and Joanna Wade, still coming on to Kim.

»The Spades filed silently into the candle room.«

Now imagine Kim “invading” the venerable halls of the school, disrupting the supposed peace and, in her usual manner, penetrating the complex interconnections against all resistance by celebrities, school officials, pupils, and pretty much everyone - with unexpected exceptions…

This is the premise of Dying Truth, Angela Marsons’ eighth instalment in her Kim Stone series and it plays out just as brilliantly as it sounds. I know I also wrote about the previous novel but it’s true for this one as well: It’s the best novel of this series so far.

From the outset, the boarding school provides a gothic, almost claustrophobic atmosphere. With its evocative setting, the novel effortlessly balances a compelling mystery with the intricate dynamics of its key players. The blend of suspense, emotional depth, and psychological insight makes this an absorbing read that stands apart not only as part of the series but also in the crowded crime fiction genre. As such, it can easily be read without prior knowledge of the series as a whole.

Kim Stone herself remains a formidable protagonist whose complexity drives the narrative. I really enjoyed her approach to internal performance reviews: kind, fair, and honest, yet without compromising her innate pragmatism.

Much to Marsons’ credit, though, every single member of Kim’s team really gets to shine.

»Dawson silently applauded the boy’s strength of character in not taking the easy way out of a difficult situation.«

This not only points to the boy’s resilience but mirrors Dawson’s own growth throughout the series. His care and kindness lent a much-needed warmth amidst the darker undercurrents of the story.

In their different ways, everyone does their utmost to solve not only the current crime but also one from the past. While the story impresses with its pace and twists, much of its merit lies in Marsons’ ability to intertwine psychological depth with razor-sharp suspense. Every scene feels calculated yet organic, drawing the reader deeper into the sinister and secretive nature of the boarding school.

A few minor imperfections don’t mar the overall picture. While Tracy Frost, the local journalist, often plays a significant role in the series, here she is sadly underused. I’ve come to enjoy Tracy’s complex character and her interactions with Kim; both aspects are largely neglected here.

Also, interspersed in the story are excerpts from the victim’s diary, immediately followed by the ramblings of the murderer. To me, those parts didn’t really add to the story and the image of the murderer evoked by his commentary was at odds with the character as shown throughout the novel.

The ending, too, felt entirely consistent with Kim’s intricate personality, leaving me both satisfied and eager to explore more of her journey.

Comparatively, “Dying Truth” surpasses earlier entries in the series, such as “Lost Girls”, which I found a bit excessive in its grimness. Here, Marsons masterfully balances tension and emotional resonance, proving once again why—to me—Kim Stone stands out as one of crime fiction’s most intriguing investigators.

Five stars out of five.

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Regressive, Reckless, and Ridiculous: Meet the Worst Book I've Ever Read

In all honesty, this is the worst book I’ve ever read. It’s so backwards-leaning, demented, idiotic, and irresponsible, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Long and Sidebottom are actually Trump and Musk respectively.

Daisy is our female protagonist who has just been cheated on by her boyfriend, been fired from her job, and, encouraged by friends, now wants to take a holiday. To give you a first idea of what Daisy is like, let’s examine her thoughts about that:

»My pout returns when I remember she’s right. I have no job to try and take holidays from. I have no boyfriend to seek permission from.«

The male protagonist, Frazer, is by no means better.

»From what I know, Nigel is a prize ass, anyway, and I’m sure no mother could be proud of a son who wears brown corduroys and a feather fucking earring while he sticks toenail clippings to bits of cardboard – all at the same time.«

His behaviour resembles that of a reckless, careless, horny teenager. He doesn’t mind “forgetting” using a condom much and when asked to visit the local pharmacy for the pill after, he refuses because he’s a man…

Daisy's reaction to this is… surprising as well: She starts hopping, “Trying to get it all out. You know, fling it downwards!” as a means of birth control.

Frazer also thinks “pulling out” is a valid method of contraception, and so does Daisy, as she doesn’t even react to it. He also doesn’t mind jumping the next available female despite harbouring very strong feelings for Daisy. To get rid of said woman the morning after, he behaves extremely rudely and insultingly to her.

There’s also a notable side character called Frank. Frank seems to be a middle-aged white male of the “disgusting sexist” variety. Whenever and wherever he sees a woman, he greets her like this:

»Frank is sitting at his spot on the bench, and lifting a hand in greeting to me, he shouts out, “Morning, sugar tits.”«

And this is by far the most “harmless” greeting…

Fittingly, the writing feels cheap and bland, with absolutely no highlights and humour of this type:

»He makes money out of used loo rolls and my life is so shit I need the toilet tissue.«

There’s a lot of sex and I usually don’t complain about smut but the sparse and barren language as well as a complete absence of noticeable, credible desire or at least lust gives it a mechanical, transactional, and sometimes clinical feeling. Let’s take a look at Daisy’s and Frazer’s first “encounter” (abridged):

»“Show me your dick and I’ll sign the piece of paper.”

[...]

“Oh yeah. Okay then. Here goes.”

[...]

He winks at me. “Fine with me. Listen. This is going to sound weird, but can I touch your boob just a little bit?”

[...]

“Okay.”

[...]

“I want to touch it.”

[...]

“You can if you want but then you’ll have to excuse me to go to the loo and know I’m going to think about your body as I beat off. I’ve gone past the point of no return here.”«

This, fellow readers, is how they fall in insta-love. It is also the moment when I started feeling nauseous.

Even though this is more of a novella, there’s still tons of filler material, e. g. Daisy going on a dinner date (a disaster both story- and novel-wise) during which she complains about the size of one of the waiter’s eyes…

»The waiter huffs loudly and shifts from one foot to the other. I’d feel sympathetic for him but he definitely has one eye bigger than the other and looks down right shifty.«

The authors go on, and on, and on to put every single shitty cliché into their novel…

»Shirley reaches out and pats Daisy’s hand. “Aww, darling, you should have said if you’re premenstrual.”«

… to “dumb blondes”...

»Maybe because, a, your dick definitely does NOT taste of lychees like you promised.«

… and great, loving parenting styles…

»Your brother ran away at thirteen when I told him he couldn’t dye his hair pink. He did the same at fourteen when I told him his new earring looked stupid. It was a peacock feather, for God’s sake.«

There’s even blackfacing…

»Kathy and I are dressed in hoodies and jeans. We’ve put the darkest fake tan on our faces and hands so we look a different race altogether from a distance. That’s what we’re going to be all night long.«

This could go on for all of the 260 pages of this irredeemably bad book, one of the very few without any redeeming qualities at all.

There was one moment, though, that made me laugh out loud but, unfortunately, it was unintentionally funny and only serves to show how, uhm, “intellectually challenged” these authors are:

»She then turns over and is out as if someone has put a chlorophyll-filled tissue in her face.«

Dear Andie and D.H., the word you were looking for is “Chloroform” which firmly belongs to the 19th and early 20th century from which your novel’s jokes, ideas about gender, sex, and societal norms also come.

Your verbal diarrhoea is disgusting and solely garners one star out of five because I can’t give none.

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Not as sharp as before, but Kim Stone’s grit keeps me hooked.

Angela Marsons’ “Broken Bones” follows Kim Stone and her tireless team as they delve into a network of crimes that expose the darkest corners of society. While its predecessor left me enthralled, this one felt like a slight step back in terms of sheer suspense, character development, and immediacy of action.

“Broken Bones” deals with issues of desperation, abuse, and exploitation, exploring the ways marginalised people navigate a world indifferent to their suffering. Among the novel’s many strengths, Detective Kim Stone continues to stand out. Her tenacity, resilience, and willingness to challenge perceptions radiate in every chapter.

»He turned to look at her. ‘You’re advising me on positivity?’

‘Oh, the irony,’ she observed.«

The novel also examines the complexity of human behaviour. In a powerful scene, Kim reflects on the limitations of stereotyping:

»’A contradiction, eh?’ Bryant asked.

Kim shook her head. ‘Just a person, Bryant. Full of likes and dislikes, fears and hopes. I’m still waiting to meet the stereotype.’«

Despite these positives, the pacing felt uneven. At points, the plot unfolded methodically, building tension. Yet the resolution lacked the satisfying intricacy I’ve come to expect. Subplots occasionally dipped into predictability, and the shadow of the previous, stronger instalment loomed large. Marsons sets a high bar, and while “Broken Bones” meets it in parts, it falls short of being as impactful as its immediate predecessor.

All in all, I enjoyed “Broken Bones”—its gritty realism, memorable characters, and moments of raw emotion make it a worthy read. However, it wasn’t as consistently enthralling as I’d hoped, and I missed some of the edge that made earlier books exceptional.

Four stars out of five.

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I've followed Angela Marsons' Kim Stone series from the beginning, and "Dead Souls" was, so far, its best instalment.

What sets this entry apart is the fascinating dynamic created by forcing Kim Stone to work alongside her long-standing nemesis, Tom Travis, and his team. This unexpected partnership generates tension throughout the story, while Kim's own team tackles separate cases that eventually interweave.The culmination, involving the abduction of one of Kim's team members, had me perched on the edge of my seat.

Marsons has always excelled at pacing, but here she's outdone herself. The narrative flows with the precision of a well-oiled machine, never feeling rushed yet maintaining a constant sense of urgency. While the subject matter is undeniably dark—dealing with xenophobia, racism, and hate crimes—it doesn't descend into the gratuitous territory that sometimes plagues contemporary crime fiction.

It feels almost eerie to have read this in January 2025, considering a convicted felon, an insurrectionist spared jail and disqualification from office by his election, is about to become president of the USA in less than a week. and his “tech bro” is openly supporting Nazis in Germany and the UK.

Back to fiction, though: The character development continues to impress, with both familiar faces and new additions being rendered in compelling detail. I particularly appreciated how Marsons uses the team's separation to spotlight individual character growth while maintaining the series' distinctive group dynamic.

Comparing this to previous entries in the series, such as "Broken Bones" or "Evil Games", "Dead Souls" shows a marked evolution in both storytelling sophistication and thematic depth.

For readers new to the series, while this book can stand alone, I'd recommend starting from the beginning to fully appreciate the character relationships and their development. However, long-time fans will find this a particularly rewarding entry that pushes beloved characters into new territory while maintaining everything we've come to love about the series.

Five stars out of five.

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[a:Saša Stanišić 877513 Saša Stanišić https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1640075911p2/877513.jpg] macht es mir nie leicht: Sein “[b:Herkunft 44429051 Herkunft Saša Stanišić https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1552569522l/44429051.SY75.jpg 68990636]” hat mich erst wenig gereizt und am Ende “gepackt”, wie es nur seltene Ausnahmeerscheinungen schaffen. Nun sitze ich an meinem Schreibtisch unmittelbar nach Abschluss der Lektüre seines neuesten Werkes mit dem leicht sperrigen (und doch vollkommen passenden!) Titel “[b:Möchte die Witwe angesprochen werden, platziert sie auf dem Grab die Gießkanne mit dem Ausguss nach vorne 201467483 Möchte die Witwe angesprochen werden, platziert sie auf dem Grab die Gießkanne mit dem Ausguss nach vorne Saša Stanišić https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1716809581l/201467483.SY75.jpg 206354310]” geht es mir ähnlich...»Was das genau soll, wird nicht klar.«Genau so ging es mir als Leser an jener Stelle auch. Und wie schon bei “Herkunft” habe ich die Gelegenheit genutzt, die Skepsis, die Verwirrung und die Irritation bewusst zu verdrängen und mich auf die Geschichten einzulassen, die Stanišić hier einmal mehr meisterhaft erzählt. Lose verbunden durch den roten Faden der Grundidee - Leben probehalber “anzuprobieren” und sich für deren Annahme oder Ablehnung zu entscheiden - erzählt Stanišić von wirklichen und “anprobierten” Leben. Umfassend, empathisch und meist mit einem Augenzwinkern...»Wir vier zum Beispiel. Ausländer in Deutschland. Ja, auch du, Nico, deine Mutter ist DDR, das zählt.«Gerade die frühen Helgoland-Sequenzen waren für mich zunächst weitgehend undurchdringlich und nur mäßig verständlich. Mit den späteren Erzählungen werden aber Mosaiksteinchen hinzugefügt, so dass sich letztlich auch hier ein klareres Bild einstellt.Bei aller Fantasie und aller literarischer Verspieltheit ist Stanišić doch klar und unzweideutig positioniert...»Er war diesmal in Uniform gekleidet, Mo, ganz in Schwarz. Auch die Mütze war schwarz, und darauf, sowie auf der Brusttasche, steckte dieser Hakenkreuzadler. Hundertpro verboten, heute aber wieder mehr im Gebrauch.Wo dieser Tage solch eine Uniform zu finden ist, da ist normalerweise auch entweder ein thüringischer Politiker auf einer von einem CDU-Mann gesponserten Feier im kleinen Kreise, eine kontroverse Ausstellung oder ein Theaterstück. Mo konnte zwar vieles sein, aber ein Nazi war er nicht, noch war er Museum oder Schauspieler, wobei Schauspieler noch am meisten.Mo breitete die Arme aus!Ich umarmte Mo.«Unglaublich sympathisch und für mich der Höhepunkt des Buches: Die Geschichte um titelgebende Witwe Gisel, deren Hermann schon vor Jahren verstorben ist, der aber immer noch höchst präsent ist...»Mit Hermann war nicht alles leicht gewesen, aber das meiste. Und darauf kommt es im gemeinsamen Leben an, dass man es miteinander meistens leicht hat.Mit Hermann war immer jemand da: Hermann.Mit Hermann brauchte sie nicht zaudern. Oder Hermann zauderte mit, das war auch schön.«(Mit Dir, C., auch!)Nun ist dies aber keine bittersüße Liebesschnulze aus der schlechten alten Zeit, und obschon sie sich dabei manchmal selbst überrascht, ist Gisel alles andere als ein trauerndes Mauerblümchen, das durch den nächsten Mann “errettet” werden muss...»In Büchern ging es meistens um Liebe: Kam eine Frau vor, kam auch die Liebe vor. Gisel mochte solche Bücher nicht. Sie mochte Bücher, in denen eine Frau vorkam, und ein Flugzeug stürzte ab, und die Frau war die einzige Überlebende und schlug sich, bewaffnet mit einer Zahnbürste, fortan durch die Wildnis. Sie zähmte einen Bären, der ihr treuer Begleiter wurde.«Gerade zum Thema Helgoland lässt Stanišić Heinrich Heine direkt und indirekt zu Wort kommen. Ganz im Gegensatz zum selbstgefälligen Bildungsprotz [a:Umberto Eco 1730 Umberto Eco https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1588941738p2/1730.jpg], der damit seine intellektuelle Dominanz demonstrieren wollte, gelingt es Stanišić mit geradezu spielerischer Leichtigkeit durch Anknüpfen an Erfahrungen und Emotionen eine “tragfähige” (glaubwürdige) Brücke durch die Zeiten zu schlagen und so ist es nur folgerichtig, dass im Rahmen der “Anproben” möglicher Leben auch ein gewisser “Harry Heine” mit dabei ist.Überhaupt gehören die Geschichten um die “Anproben” zu den weiteren Höhepunkten des Buches. Ein paar Allgemeinplätze und geradezu naturgesetzliche Selbstverständlichkeiten...»Früher mit Kinobesuchen, lang ist der letzte her, eine deutsche Komödie, wie hieß die noch, war nicht komisch.«... muß man schon über sich ergehen lassen, und Höhepunkte wie der “multikulturelle Faustdialog” (Herkunft: [b:Herkunft 44429051 Herkunft Saša Stanišić https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1552569522l/44429051.SY75.jpg 68990636]) fehlen hier, aber die erzählerische und sprachliche Souveränität des Saša Stanišić suchen auch in diesem Buch in der deutschsprachigen Literatur des 21. Jahrhunderts ihresgleichen.»Dann mach es, mach dieses Einloggen. Ich will, dass du dieses Leben hast und kein anderes.«Fatih seufzt. »Mama, wir hatten und haben dieses Leben. Wir hätten unzählige andere haben können, weil wir unzählige andere Entscheidungen hätten treffen können, aber wir haben – zum Glück – solche getroffen, die dich zu meiner Mutter gemacht haben, und mich zu diesem heute ein bisschen gestressten Typen, der wieder Überstunden schieben wird, um den Fehler im System zu finden. Und der aber darüber total froh ist, weil er wahnsinnig gern Fehler sucht. Das kann nicht verschwinden, wir haben die Vergangenheit hinter uns und auch in uns, Mama.««Für diese neuerliche Bereicherung der deutschen Literatur durch den auch noch ungeheuerlich sympathisch wirkenden Saša Stanišić habe ich nur noch eines übrig: Fünf von fünf Sternen (und zwei feuchte Augen wegen des Schlusses).»Gräßlicher als der Patriotismus mit all seinen Geschwüren sind nicht einmal Zahnschmerzen.«Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

From [a:Sartre 1466 Jean-Paul Sartre https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1475567078p2/1466.jpg] to [a:Connelly 12470 Michael Connelly https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1539114448p2/12470.jpg]: Last year, at a meeting, a colleague told me she had found my website and mentioned how diverse my reading was. I guess she was right. (Hi, Barbara!)I came from an exhausting read and needed something to just plain enjoy, to read-wallow in, and to indulge in - and “[b:The Last Coyote 49353 The Last Coyote (Harry Bosch, #4) Michael Connelly https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1170358620l/49353.SY75.jpg 449477]” was pretty much the perfect book for that.Harry, on leave for attacking his superior, Pounds, makes it his mission to finally solve his mother's murder. Most of the people from back then, the 60s, are dead and/or unwilling to talk. The rest are still among the high-and-mighty and Bosch doesn't play nice with the latter kind of person.Harry also attends mandatory counselling sessions with a therapist. I really liked this part of the narration on many levels: In 1997, getting professional help and allowing others to help was still not entirely normalised. Maybe not quite stigmatised anymore, people, especially men, wouldn't (in general) talk about such topics openly.Not only is this therapy positively depicted here, but the old stigma is addressed in constructive ways. It also gives us more of Bosch's personal background, which I immensely enjoyed because Bosch is a complex character. »“These stories, Harry,” she finally said, “these stories that you tell are heartbreaking in their own way. It makes me see the boy who became the man. It makes me see the depth of the hole left by your mother's death. You know, you would have a lot to blame her for and no one would blame you for doing it.”«He's gloriously imperfect and broken but instead of simply going into denial which is Harry's first instinctive reaction, he opens up. He makes the decision to work on himself and it showed.I really liked the psychologist as well: A very down-to-earth person who takes Harry very seriously and who is very transparent for him as well. »You're not understanding what I'm saying. I don't want any guilty person to get away, especially with murder. But what I am talking about here is you. You are my only concern here.«During his investigation, Harry meets a woman, of course, in whom he finds both a lover and his match...»“Something tells me it's a good story.” “What's that?”“Whatever it is you're doing. If you ever feel like telling it, the number's in the paper. But you already know that.” Bosch nodded. He was speechless. He stepped through the door and closed it behind him.«I grinned broadly over their interactions as I liked pretty much everything about those two.»“You want to come home with me, Bosch?”Now he hesitated. Not because there was any deliberation in his answer. But he wanted her to have the chance to withdraw it in case she had spoken too quickly. After a moment of silence from her he smiled and nodded.“Yes, I would like that.”«Of course, Bosch is Bosch and, thus, not everything is as consensual as the previous quotation implies...»IN THE MORNING Bosch awoke first. He took a shower and borrowed Jasmine's toothbrush without asking.«(YIKES!)As always, this novel was wonderfully written: very smooth, readable, intelligent prose that is greatly structured in every possible way. I became so immersed in the story, I didn't even get to think “just one more page!”. I just read on, ignoring everything else.The mystery itself is thrilling and engaging but for me at least, it's the characters who really make or break a story, not just the twists (which are there and done well!) or the suspense (definitely there!). Everything in this novel “just works” extremely well. Within and without its genre, it stands tall and proud among its bookish siblings. Five stars out of five.»There was one story after the traffic report that caught his attention. An octopus on display at a city aquarium in San Pedro had apparently killed itself by pulling a water circulation tube out of its tank fitting with one of its tentacles. The tank emptied and the octopus died. Environmental groups were calling it suicide, a desperate protest by the octopus against its captivity. Only in L.A., Bosch thought as he turned the radio off. A place so desperate even the marine life was killing itself.«Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

I don't like horror stories and I don't like “supernatural” nonsense. That said, I actually enjoyed these two short stories which are basically from the horror genre and are bordering on “supernatural”.
If only  “Dog Days” was to be reviewed, I'd rate it with four stars because it's clearly the much better story. The set up is (mostly) believable and its characters likeable and, at least when it comes to the primary protagonists, well-written. You can relate to the young hero and - in part - to his friends and enemies. The rest of the characters are not too far off to accept them. All in all, the story is intrinsically sound and enjoyable. Of course, there are a few issues, e. g. with the timeline - it's end of June and on the 19th of July something is expected to happen and the hero thinks that's in “less than two weeks”. Not quite right but nothing that really spoils the experience. There's a ghost that pops up twice for no good reason at all and should just have been cut out of the book - we never really get to know why it comes, what intentions it has or what happens to it - it's just passingly mentioned and immediately forgotten. There are few typos and other errors as well but nothing greatly aggrieving. So, all in all, a nice short story, worthy of reading even for those who don't like the genre.
Unfortunately, “Deadly Passage” didn't quite live up to my expectations after “Dog Days”. If it was only this story to be rated, I'd give it a merciful two-star-rating.  The basic idea - a couple of people hunted down by something on a ship - appealed to me but, alas, the story took some time to get going, the “hunter” (or “beast” as it's called from the very beginning) is portrayed to be more human than animalistic which simply not necessary for the story and instead of taking down one victim by another, the whole thing descends into slaughter rather quickly. There were quite a few gory scenes which didn't really help in any way either - subtle horror is so much better than describing intestines falling out of a body. This is exactly the kind of story I'm not eager to read more of.
Even though both stories have their weaknesses, both were hard to put down - I really wanted to know how the stories progress. That's a good sign and one of the reasons I'm rating the book with good three stars.

Nele Neuhaus auf dem Weg nach vorgestern

Ich war skeptisch, als ich die Lektüre des neuen Krimis um das Ermittler-Duo Bodenstein/Sander (vormals Kirchhoff) begann. Allzu routiniert und lieblos heruntergeschrieben fühlte sich das vorherige Buch „Im Wald“ für mich an.

Dies schien sich auch zu bestätigen: Nach kurzer Einführung startet „Muttertag“ mit dem Auffinden der Leiche eines alten Mannes langsam und behäbig. Viele Figuren werden eingeführt, die Ermittlungen laufen in verschiedene Richtungen und - zeitweise - wirkt das zäh und arg bemüht.

Es wechselt zudem immer wieder die Erzähl-Perspektive zwischen der Haupthandlung, einem Nebenstrang und einem inneren Monolog des Mörders. Das hilft nicht wirklich dabei, sich in der Erzählung zurecht zu finden und wird langatmig. Bis etwa zur Hälfte des Buches.

Erst danach beginnen die Zusammenhänge klarer zu werden und Ermittlung wie Erzählung nehmen Fahrt auf. Denn nach der langen Durststrecke findet Neuhaus zurück zu alter Form der früheren Bücher, vorgestern: Spannend, mitreißend, dramatisch wird es und ein bis dahin laues Belletristik-Lüftchen wird zum Sturm, der die Seiten geradezu umreißt.

Ein versöhnlicher Schluss mit Nettigkeit und Charme rundet „Muttertag“ ab und macht zwar leichte Krimi-Kost nicht nahrhafter, aber doch appetitlich und lecker!

Groschenhefte hatten mehr Inhalt und geistigen Tiefgang...

Wer sich noch an die Groschenhefte von früher erinnert, die kurz, schmalzig, niveaulos und wenig intelligent waren, der wird es einzuordnen wissen, wenn ich hier feststellen muß, daß diese Ultra-Kurzgeschichte (zumindest verringert das den unweigerlich auftretenden Leseschmerz) tatsächlich eben diese Groschenhefte noch um Dimensionen unterbietet und dabei wesentlich teurer ist.

Dieses “Buch” ernsthaft zu verkaufen, ist eigentlich eine Frechheit - es aber überhaupt geschrieben zu haben, ist der Autorin (wer auch immer diese Sophie Kinsella sein mag) hoffentlich inzwischen selbst peinlich. Sicher ist jedenfalls, daß ich nach diesem Wort-Friedhof ganz sicher keine weiteren Bücher von Frau Kinsella lesen werden.

Glücklicherweise war dieses eBook gerade gratis, als ich es mir hier bei Amazon herunterlud, aber dennoch - eigentlich ist selbst geschenkt noch zu teuer.

Wieder ein großer Wurf, der an seinen Vorgänger erinnert.

Diesmal geht geht es um das Sterben eines Dorfes über Jahrzehnte hinweg. Damit einhergehend sterben aber nicht „nur“ das Dorf und seine Bewohner, sondern eine ganze „Dorf-Kultur“: Mit Flurbereinigung und allgemeiner Urbanisierung gehen Traditionen und manchmal auch Existenzen zugrunde.

Hansen glückt es jedoch, in diesem Untergangsszenario auch bereits den hoffnungsvollen Anfang einer Weiterentwicklung darzustellen. Insbesondere ist verdienstvoll, dass es Hansen mit großer Behutsamkeit und Zurückhaltung durchgängig glaubwürdig gelingt, die charakterliche Entwicklung insbesondere Ingwers sich organisch entwickelnd darzustellen.

Auch hier ist der „Wiedererkennungswert“ autobiografischer Erfahrungen potentiell groß: Viele Schilderungen im Buch haben mich schmunzeln lassen oder mich allgemein an meine eigene Kindheit „auf‘m Dorf“ denken lassen.

Insofern habe ich mich auch in „Mittagsstunde“ (bei uns übrigens eine Stunde später, von 13:00 bis 15:00 Uhr) sehr schnell heimisch gefühlt und habe Seite um Seite in Ruhe genossen; mit Ingwer, Sönke und Ella gebangt, geendet und neu begonnen.

Ganz reicht es dann doch nicht an „Altes Land“ heran, aber es fehlt nicht viel daran und ich freue mich schon auf den nächsten Roman.

Have you ever read a book by Umberto Eco? Then you'll know that Mr. Eco is an extremely smart person - and he loves showing that to his readers. His books are well-researched, full of reference to historical facts, other works, etc. They might not all be nice to read and some are outright annoying but at least they're well-written.

Now imagine Eco without proper research, without the smartness and without much talent for writing and you get: William Azuski

First of all, I don't care about realism if a book is interesting. I don't mind the author's ideas about archaeology or volcanoes (even though they're involuntarily comical in this book).

I do mind when an author writes more in metaphors than straight sentences, though. A few examples:

- “the fury of a candle left in a draught.”

Candles tend to die, left in a draught. I don't really see much “fury” there.

A few sentences later, we read “The great day dawns, the sun struggling through spitting clouds.”

“Spitting clouds” - well, I suppose that's rain but, really, useless, stupid pathos.

And if it's not “Lucifer-red” it's “rust-red to the author (if only he could decide how to spell it...):

- “rust-red cliffs”
- “rust red lava”

Enough of that, though, let's take a look at the characters. Unfortunately, nothing good to see there either - all of them are caricatures of themselves, stereotypes we've seen a million times before. Just one example of an Oxford scholar “Dr. Adrian ‘Hadrian' Hunt”:

“Dr Adrian Hunt, thinning hair, waddling gait, and that pink English skin that the sun refuses to bronze even in summer. He stood there like a plump, startled bird, peering out through round tortoiseshell glasses, probably still wondering at the back of his mind why he had deserted the gothic spires of Oxford for this godforsaken place.”

This stereotype has been exploited so often but rarely have I seen a description that blandly composed of everything better writers have only subtly alluded to. But careful allusions are not Azuski's style. Bold statements are more like him and they repeat throughout the book.

The characters don't really develop either - Pedrosa, our witless hero, constantly meanders between hating his boss, Huxley, and admiring him. In fact, he switches so quickly one gets dizzy. That's not character development, though.
The others, unless they're busy dying or quarreling with each other, don't really ever change at all. They're just somehow around and we'll never really understand what for since they're usually just staring into the “great beyond”.

Huxley says it to Pedrosa but it actually fits much better for us, the readers: “You wade through the swamp of your own fears, your own emotions, your likes and dislikes, your desires and aversions, your passion for this, your suspicion of that. I ask you again. Is that where you expect to find the truth?”

Better don't expect any truths from this book, it's just a collection of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo which ends with a whimper trying to be a bang and which would, if this book hadn't already been hopelessly, utterly, irredeemably bad already, have ruined it completely.

Whatever you do with your life, don't waste any minute of it reading this.

Schwacher Inhalt, schlechter Stil, vorhersehbar

Vorab: Obschon ich zumeist eher Romane oder auch eine gute Novelle schätze, mag ich auch gute Kurzgeschichten. Jedoch ist es wichtig, daß letzteres Format sich wirklich auf das Essentielle beschränkt. Das ist im vorliegenden Fall leider nicht gut umgesetzt.

Inhaltlich ist der “Kindle Killer” eher schwach - die Geschichte beginnt nett erzählt, muß jedoch überstürzt beendet werden, da der Autorin offenbar die Umsetzung der Grundidee schwer fiel. Sprache und Schreibstil helfen leider auch nicht, den “Kindle Killer” im Gedächtnis zu behalten (ich erinnere mich im krassen Gegensatz zu dieser Kurzgeschichte noch sehr deutlich an eine Kurzgeschichte von Ambrose Bierce, die ich vor über 20 Jahren einmal las); beides ist deutlich unterdurchschnittlich.

Eine gute Kurzgeschichte sollte zudem nicht vorhersehbar sein, sonst verliert sie leicht ihren Reiz. In diesem Falle gab es leider nur einen denkbaren Ausgang und der trat natürlich auch prompt ein. Leider waren aber in der Tat nicht nur das Ende, sondern auch viele Einzel-Elemente der Geschichte altbekannt und somit in keiner Weise überraschend, neu oder gar aufregend.

Erschwerend kommt hinzu, daß es wohl keinerlei Lektorat oder Korrekturen gab - das Buch wimmelt von Rechtschreib- und Grammatikfehlern, was mir zusätzlich übel aufstieß.

Liebe Liv Olson, das war eine gute Idee mit interessanten Ansätzen. Leider ist die Umsetzung nicht sehr gut gelungen. Daher von mir nur ein Stern.

This is yet another win from Early Reviewers. Unfortunately, it's a completely forgettable book. I've read “Silk” some time ago and waited to write this review for a while to see what I would actually remember and how I would feel about it.

The story is pretty much standard murder mystery: Killer kills woman, police tries to find him with the limited means of the time, police catches murders.

In between, there's a bored guy from the landed gentry who tries to achieve eternal youth by acquiring an obscure potion, seduces every woman he meets and kills most of them because it turns him on.

There's the lonely cop with a funny name and his sidekick, their annoying boss and a bit of romance thrown in uninspiredly. The author tries to add a bit of philosophy (“Was he always like that or was it the potion? Everyone seems to have loved him! Must have been the potion” - “No, young padawan, he must have been a monster before because no elixir exists to turn someone into one.”) but fails at that as well.

Honestly, find something else to read. This book is simply uninspired and boring.

Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter by Tom Franklin

Do you like watching glaciers move? Like, in real-time? Are you a German teacher of English? Do you hate someone very much? (You can even combine the last two!)

Congratulations, this book is especially for you!

I actually enjoy a good story, lavishly told in good time. Me possibly drinking coffee or wine and enjoying myself, even losing myself inside a story told slowly, delightfully, perhaps playfully.

The story-telling here is mooooooooostly slooooooooow. Just slow. Not lavish, not delightful, not playful, just plain old slow.

Now, slow food? Good stuff! Fast food only makes me fat anyway. Slow food doesn't mean I have to enjoy chewing on a piece of granite – or reading this book.

‘f slows the only prob, things mighta haven't look so bleak. Ain't just that, sirree, naw. The language. South'rn drawl my ass. Short sentences. Clipped sentences, eh? Yeah, boy, might work. If yall are proper pen pushers, heh?! Franklin, ma boy, you ain't a one.

Ok, enough of this. It's really annoying. I really, really hated those clipped sentences. They read like they hated their literary life for being, well, emaciated.

Well, all of that could still have been forgiven (I can almost see the small teaching, pupil-hating, glacier-watching demographic from the introduction nod their approval!) but let's take a look at the story itself:

Young Larry (40 today) goes on a date, girl goes missing, people start hating Larry, apart from his “special friend” Silas and even more special Wallace Stringfellow. The former being a sorry excuse for a friend, the latter being worse.

At the very beginning, poor Larry gets shot and Silas goes up and down memory lane for about 80% of the book, inspecting their miserable, boring lives in the past. Discovering “shocking” truths and a body. (Not, two, though. The mystery that all but ruined Larry's life never gets solved.)

The first words in chapter seven are basically a clue bat I, unfortunately, didn't fully appreciate:

“IT WAS 1982.”

Yes, and we're at 41% of the book and feeling like we've had to wade through decades of boredom but, wait, those guys are about 40 and no point whatsoever has been reached or made so far – we're not safe yet, with decades before us yet! (Had I realised earlier and not only now, in hindsight, or given in to my instincts about bad books I might have preferred to watch grass grow but, alas, that exciting exercise has to wait for a worse book.)

Still chapter seven (did I mention those chapters can take an hour or more of a fast reader's time? (not to speak of the poor sod's life!)): “IT WAS THE slowest week of his life,” man, you're taking the words right out of my mouth.


Anyway, why did I even finish this turd? Well, truth to be told, my daughter has to read this book for school and being the stupid oaf I'm sometimes maligned to be, I mouthed off to her about how good this book must be, having great reviews on Goodreads and how she should just get reading it! Sorry, my dear Schn..., I'm sure to do it again but for this book you have my sympathy.

Drink, have fun with grass, do whatever you want with your life but don't make people read this book.


Oh, and if you really are a German teacher of English, I'm presenting you with a list of seven (because I can!) books better suited for your intended purpose which won't make your pupils hate you (even more, at least):

- Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens
- Beartown by Fredrick Backman
- Beneath a Scarlet Sky by Mark T. Sullivan
- All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
- The Universe versus Alex Woods by Gavin Extence
- The Nightingale or The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah

This was yet another pleasant surprise from LibraryThing's Early Reviewers program.
This is a classic example for not judging a book by its cover because - let's be honest - the cover looks like a failed experiment.
The book itself, though, is fairly enjoyable. In fact, the story telling, the writing and the overall style (which is somewhat rough at the edges) reminds me of an early Brandon Sanderson.
The story was interesting and fairly well told. 

Just when I was thinking nothing really good would ever come out of giveaways, I got “The Bourbon Street Ripper” (BSR). Put off at first by the lurid title, I quickly got drawn into the book.

As usual, I'll skip summarising the story as others will have done this before. In short, it's basically a well-done mystery novel and, in contrast to the author's “Clearly not your normal mystery book.” it is a normal mystery book with a few twists and some “extra features”. It's not normal in that most “normal” mystery books are treading well worn-out paths which, to a fair extent, BSR succeeds to avoid.

The main characters are mostly believable and well-developed and both the 20-years-before story as well as the current storyline and interestingly (and rather subjectively) presented through some of the characters.
The contrast between two of the protagonists, namely Rodger and Michael, works well for the book as do the similarities between two other characters (albeit the presentation of those could have been a bit more subtle).

For me at least, this was a real page turner in spite of having to apply some suspension of disbelief at certain points in the story (a certain scene with the priory comes to mind). The book still “works” for me, though, since when I'm reading a piece of fiction I'm willing to “just let go” a fair part of my usual skepticism.

Unfortunately, there are a few downsides to this otherwise nice work. Starting with what annoyed me the most, there were some scenes that were presented in an overly gory way - there was no need to describe in rather blunt terms how a side-character gets murdered and how the crime scene looks afterwards. I consider these gore scenes actually one of the weakest points of the book.

Some people might take offence at the Voodoo theme as well; I'm not one of them, though. It may make sense, considering the primary location in the book is New Orleans, though, I'm not sure. Speaking of which: From what I've read, I somehow got the notion the author might want to convey his ideas and feelings about or for New Orleans. Maybe even get the reader to become interested in the city itself. If that's part of the goal, it failed for me.

The cliffhanger at the end didn't really come as a surprise either - there were (too) many allusions as to what would happen for my taste and, thus, the “cliffhanger” didn't work for me - I expected exactly what happened and I'm pretty sure I can predict what the second book is going to start with.

I do like, though, that I'm not yet sure who's behind it all - I do have my suspects but not having made up my mind at the end of the first book is certainly a good sign.

This is my final gripe with BSR, though: A mystery thriller shouldn't come in two books. Never ever.

Don't get me wrong, I've read lots of, e. g. epic fantasy; I've stuck with Wheel of Time. I'm not happy with a mystery thriller trying to pull off the same, though. Those should come as one (huge, if necessary) volume. Yes, the publisher might not like that, people with an attention span of about 10 seconds might not either. It might even sell worse at first but, really, a good mystery will find its audience even if it has a thousand pages.

I'm curious to read how this all is going to end and, thus, will buy the second book for sure but, Leo, if you pull such a stunt again, you can become the next winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature and I still won't read another book of yours.

Even though it might not seem like it after all this criticism, all in all, I really liked this book. I recommend it wholeheartedly to anyone who likes to read a good mystery. Four out of five stars from me.

— UPDATE —
This review got me into touch with Leo directly and I was able to discuss things with him. Leo, as it turned out, is a really friendly, approachable person and very transparent with respect to his ideas, plans and reasons for his choices. While it doesn't change my feelings about BSR, this is something out of the ordinary and yet another reason to keep an eye on his further works.
Authors who write good books and are simply nice people, open to criticism, deserve my support at least and I hope you, dear reader, feel the same. :-)

This was yet another surprisingly good book from early reviewers. As usual, I won't bother with a summary especially since the description is already pretty good.
The story is basically narrated on two different levels in time which are slowly being merged into the current day. Especially in the beginning, this is done masterfully and effortlessly. It's getting slightly harder to understand towards the end of the book when the time frames are getting nearer to each other but it's still very well done.
There are a few minor issues that make me subtract one star:  - There are several occurrences of the nowadays common mistake of using “[I] could care less” when it actually should be “[I] could not care less”, e. g. “He acted as if he could care less, but the fact was he did.” (Chapter 5) - A few times, when it should be “then” the author's mistakenly using the comparative “than” instead. - Fairly regularly, there are instances of a missing comma.
These minor issues, though, hardly ever really have an impact on the enjoyment of the book as a whole. It's brilliantly written, I can relate to almost all characters which are believable, well fleshed out and fitting extremely well into the narration.
In contrast to another reviewer, I believe the book has exactly the right size - it never became long-winded for me and everything told was on some level important to the story. I never grew bored or disinterested.
If and when there's a second edition with the minor issues I pointed out fixed, this could become an almost flawless gem.

Occult nonsense and boring at that

Let's instead start at the very beginning: The cover. It looks cheap and badly done. Tons of artifacts, especially around the arms. The text looks like it belongs to some romance novel, not a wanna-be occult horror "novella".

And, oh, yes, it certainly is a "novella" which is good because much more than the about 24.000 words this thing offers would have been insufferable.

Since some endorsements are placed prominently at the beginning, let's see what others have to say. A certain Gary A. Braunbeck states it's "the best work she's ever done" - well, thanks, Gary, for the warning. He adds another notable statement "Don't start reading with any preconceived notions about horror *or* storytelling because they'll be shredded into confetti [...]".

He's completely right: I've always thought storytelling was about making the reader feel, breathe and live within the story. Gary wouldn't agree, I guess, if he thinks what Morton does is storytelling.

According to some Ray Garton, Morton "has created something so strikingly unique that it stands alone in the genre." - Yes, I don't think I've ever read something so uniquely bad in the genre - congratulations!

Anyway, why is this book so bad after all? It's full of pompous, self-important crap - most illuminating are the first two sentences:

"My name is Lisa Morton. I'm one of the world's leading authorities on Halloween."

Just prove it, Morton, don't shove it into your readers' faces like that. After all, you did some research after all. You have a whopping 21 footnote references - ok, 11 of them are references to this very book, other books written by yourself, other occult short-stories or just links.

Anyway, the story is quickly summarised (don't worry, no spoilers) - the hero, the author's alter ego, meets someone who found an age-old manuscript, that someone sets something evil free and the hero tries to fix that.

Unfortunately, our hero, who never believed in magic and thinks she's a die-hard sceptic quickly starts believing any nonsense that gets thrown at her. She experiences (and does) something drastic but quickly shrugs it off to plan yet another atrocity. Very believable...

So, to banish something evil, she prepares to summon something even more evil without even really knowing if that'll help or "damn the world" but, hey, who cares about logic!

And when the hero's finally doing what she feels she has to do, the book dies with a whimper.

Coming back to the beginning and shredding something into confetti: If you bought this book, you know what to do. Or wait till Halloween and put it in your Jack-o-Lantern. Or delete it from your ebook reader and pretend it never happened - that's certainly more suspenseful, exciting and logical than this entire "novella".

Unfortunately, this is another book I finished for two reasons only: a) I always finish a book. b) I felt a moral obligation to do so.

The problem with “The Third Day” is that it tries to do/show a lot of things in parallel and doesn't succeed in any. Take two people dissatisfied with their lives; a depressed agnostic widow and a faithful scholar. Their lives basically change over night due to a spectacular discovery; building the story up from this, describing the protagonists before their, let's say, departure, is where the author succeeds - it's believable and interesting.

* WARNING *** Spoilers ahead *** WARNING **From that point on, though, things spiral down: The widow and the scholar basically exchange their roles and beliefs; while the former turns into a fervent believer, the latter becomes a fanatic closet-opponent. Even if we simply accept this process (which at least in the scholar's case is not really believable at all), the means this is achieved by are ridiculously annoying - enter a time traveller. A well-known antagonist, disguised as a time-travelling scientist, tempts both our “heroes” and succeeds in one case and partly in the other.While I do understand the author's motivation and the idea, the implementation is tiresome and doesn't really fit with the characters as sketched out up to the respective point in the story. No important spoilers from this point on **Most of the remainder of the book is basically a rather naive re-narration of the New Testament (NT) - with a strong artistic licence in some parts. This is what annoyed me the most - I've read the Bible, thank you very much, and I really don't need to re-read the NT in the words of some novelist and with a strong focus on the more “spectacular” parts, skipping the more seemingly “boring” but important parts - and, in the process, spending a lot of time telling the reader where Jesus and his disciples are going.If you want to write some kind of religious novel, please have the decency to choose religiously important parts and expand on those.If you just want to write an interesting historical novel, please don't mostly re-narrate but boldly take more liberties and write what *you think is important.

If you, dear reader, want to read a very interesting albeit controversial religious novel, give “The Shack” by William P. Young a try. Much more ambitious than this one - but Young actually pulls it off while Graham bit off way too much.

I really hoped to like this book because the author gave me the ebook for free. This was nice, Robert, and thanks for that again.

Unfortunately, I really didn't like this book for quite a few reasons. First of all, it starts extremely slowly - the entire first third mainly consists of annoying quarrelling between stereotyped characters:

- The snobby English lord and lady,
- the pious preacher,
- the American adventurer and his suffering wife.

One would expect to get to know them pretty well on more than 100 pages but, alas, they never rise above the cliché and don't develop at all (which they won't for the entire remainder of the book).

At their destination, they're joined by an elderly clairvoyant (more esoteric nonsense to follow), the obligatory ghostly figure and the hotel detective.

Not only are those characters stereotyped but they immediately jump to all kinds of conclusions: The lord and his lady are quick to judge and as quick in coming to yet another wild idea about life, people and everything. The pious preacher hates them all (and, in a sideline of story which the author seemingly completely forgot about at some point, is involved is shady deals for the greater good) and won't let them forget about it.

The adventurer and his wife basically swing between hating each other and trying to mend their marriage. Not that the reader would care because both are completely unlikable.

Meanwhile, the pompous, self-righteous, superstitious hotel detective will meander between suspects for the “Murder at the Ocean Forest”, enlist the help of the clairvoyant and, after way too many pages, will eventually solve the mystery which an experienced reader will have done at about half-way through the book.

Why, I hear you ask? Because anyone who has read “classical” mysteries will have read it all before by way better writers. This completely overrated book has obviously been strongly inspired by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie and other famous authors. (Christie is even mentioned in the book...)

Agatha Christie, by the way, could have done this in half the length and with twice the suspense.

One of the major features is so worn out by now, it even has its own Wikipedia entry:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Locked_room_mystery

I want to avoid spoilers here so I'll skip the references to other prominent works of different authors whose plot devices were reused here.

Of course, every character here is more or less connected to everyone else and there are plenty of oh-so-tragic events and/or experiences they shared or can at least relate to.

Really, stock up on Doyle and Christie, (re-)read those and don't waste your time with this book.