theirresponsiblereader's Reviews (607)

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Citizen K-9 About? 

Due to budget cuts, Capt. Pete Stanton of Homicide has to be careful how he uses his too-small staff. He does however, have a decent discretionary fund that he can’t use for his staff, but can use on consultants. Seeing the work that The K Team has done in the past gives him the idea to hire them to close a cold case or two. 

The first case the team picks centers on a High School Reunion that Corey attended and Laurie crashed. Marcus has no connection to the case but doesn’t care, he’s in. Two attendees, who really didn’t seem to know each other during High School, left early together and were never seen again. For seven years now, there’s been occasional speculation (following the initial, inconclusive investigation) about what happened to the pair, ranging from running off to start new lives under new identities to lying in a cold grave. Corey and Laurie have been curious about it, as they were there, but have never had reason to do anything about it until now. 

Due to a combination of luck, skill, and a willingness for a witness to say something they withheld before, it doesn’t take long for the cold case to heat up. Once one of the victim’s connection to drug dealers and organized crime comes to light, it gets really hot, and legitimate threats are leveled at Corey and his girlfriend. 

Second Verse, Same as the First… 

I never do this, but I glanced at what I said about The K Team #2, Animal Instinct before I wrote this, and two of the sections are basically what I’d planned on writing for this post. Now I realize that most readers of this blog aren’t going to remember what I posted on March 31, 2021—but still, I feel awkward about it. 

It’s not going to stop me, because I still think it should be covered (and I’m not creative/energetic enough to come up with something new). I just thought I should say that I’m aware that I’m in danger of going back to the well too many times. 

Trying to find the silver lining here, if I’m being consistent in my comments about the series, I guess that means that the author is being consistent in writing the series. And since I like the books, that promises good things for the future. 

Simon Garfunkel 

We need more Simon Garfunkel in these books. 

I’m not looking for Corey to become Bernie Little, I really don’t want that. But, if you’re going to name your Detective Agency after the retired K-9 member of your team, the dog had better be around more. I get that sometimes you need to leave the dog at home (and at least for one point, Corey’s narration explains why Simon isn’t around). It’s not enough to have him around occasionally, Simon needs to be by Corey’s side almost all of the time. 

This goes for the author, too—If you’re going to refer to the dog in the name of your series, use him. Especially if he’s going to be on the cover of each novel. 

Dani 

Dani, Corey’s significant other, gets more time in this novel than she has in the previous ones—but not too much. Her increased presence fits plot-wise—and, even if she was just around for the sake of Corey’s character development, that’d be enough justification. 

The challenges for Dani and their relationship are significant and needed to happen—it leads to some needed conversations between the two. This aspect of the novel is the best part about it—even more than the Team’s case. 

A good deal about this series is what’s changing for Corey in his retirement from the Police Department—his attitudes towards legal processes, his ability to/interest in a committed relationship, his ability to put up with a particular defense attorney, and so on. His relationship with Dani is the biggest change to his way of living/thinking. 

It’s a steady and believable change with him—this old dog (if you’ll forgive the expression—is learning some new, and needed, tricks. 

The K Team 

Over the course of the three novels of this series, their jobs in the three or four Andy Carpenter books that have used The K Team, and whatever things they’ve done in the meantime, a real camaraderie has developed between Laurie, Corey, and Marcus. It’s great to see—it’s not the same feel that exists between the characters in the Andy Carpenter books. 

One way this shows up is that Rosenfelt takes a long-running joke from the Carpenter books (I’m going to guess it’s been around for at least 23 books) and tweaks it—adding a new layer to it. I laughed out loud at this (something I haven’t done for at least 20 books). 

This book, more than the others, is not a thinly-disguised Andy Carpenter book, and I’m glad to see it. 

So, what did I think about Citizen K-9? 

I really enjoyed this. David Rosenfelt has been a long-time (since before I started this blog) consistent source of entertaining reads and I’m glad to see that even with an increased output from him over the last couple of years, that hasn’t changed. I actually think this might be helping the books improve somehow. 

Citizen K-9 features a clever mystery, some great character moments, some good slow-but-steady character development, a nice (if under-used) dog, who isn’t just around for window dressing, and a strong narrative voice. That’s pretty much everything I need to recommend a book, which I do. The sweet ending is a cherry on top. 

This’d be a decent jumping-on point to either The K Team series or a sideways way of getting on-board with the Andy Carpenter series. If you like the spin-off, you’ll like the original. Check them out. 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Duckett & Dyer: Dicks For Hire About? 

I have been dreading this day for a little bit now, because I have to answer this question, and I’m not sure I can. At one point, Stephanie Dyer describes their experiences as: 

 
I’m tempted to leave it there and move on, but you’re going to want a little more than that.
 
So, Michael Duckett shares an apartment with his best friend since childhood, Stephanie Dyer. Shares is being generous—he pays the rent, utilities, and food bills. Stephanie tries not to cause trouble for him. Sometimes.
 
Michael hates his/their apartment, his job, and his life in general. What he doesn’t hate is flirting with a particular woman at the laundromat. There’s really not much more to say about his life—until a woman accosts him on the way home from the laundromat, demanding that he takes her case. He’s confused, and she presents an advertisement for his detective agency.
 
He has no idea what she’s talking about or where the advertisement came from. Stephanie doesn’t, either. Soon they’re hired to look into a woman’s disappearance by that woman. Somehow, she knew she was about to disappear and wants them to find out what’s about to happen to her/has happened to her by the time they get on the case.
 
Clear as mud? Yeah, I know.
 
Meanwhile, a grizzled detective is trying to take down a drug dealer—until he disappears in a way he can’t explain. It’s not long before he crosses paths with Duckett and Dyer and things get stranger for him (by this time, they’re already pretty strange for the detectives, but it gets worse for them, too).
 
The Multiverse of Madness
(with apologies to a certain franchise)
 

 
Without giving too much away, the duo finds themselves bouncing from parallel universe to parallel universe—some have a slightly asynchronous timeline, others have bigger differences—some have differences that are so small, like people’s hair color.
 
The explanation for both their travel and the research that led to it being possible (and how they’ll stop, I should add) is slightly more coherent than a certain someone’s “wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey” speech. Coherent, but goofy and entertainingly explained. The jumping from universe to universe is a great joke delivery mechanism, Nair was able to let his imagination run wild here—and it was worth it.
 
The Humor 

 
Speaking of joke delivery mechanisms—Nair has quite a few of them at work here. Some of the humor is quiet and observational, some is the classic situational kind of thing that comes from the Odd Couple-esque pairing of Michael and Stephanie, and then there’s the ridiculous SF/Multiverse stuff—I don’t even know how to describe that.

This story felt like the love child of Dirk Gentley’s Holistic Detective Agency and Comedy Central’s Corporate, but sweeter. The humor is sophisticated and juvenile, subtle and broad, cynical and sentimental. Not only was the story unpredictable, but so was the humor—Nair almost never went where you thought he would go with the jokes.

So, what did I think about Duckett & Dyer: Dicks For Hire? 

 
This was just absurd (in the best way). It’s not novel to combine any of the genres involved in the novel, but the way Nair does it makes it feel fresh and original—why didn’t anyone think of this before?
 
Both Stephanie and Michael are hard to like sometimes—okay, Michael is difficult to like as a person more than sometimes—mostly you take him because Stephanie likes him. Actually, just about every character is realistically human and flawed—very flawed. That’s not something you often get in such a comic novel, it’s nice when you do.
 
Duckett & Dyer: Dicks For Hire is a great start to this trilogy—it’s an SF romp with just a touch of Detective Fiction. Once things get moving, it’s one of the faster-paced books I’ve read this year, and the jokes keep the story moving well. You’re not going to find a lot of books like this one—you’d better pounce on it (and the sequel) when you can.
 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Payback Is Forever About? 
Miller’s a thief, a fairly successful one. This comes in handy because he’s not as successful when it comes to gambling. He needs to pay a debt, so he takes a job with a couple of strangers. They betray him, the job goes wrong, and Miller (and the cash) escape without his partners. They don’t know his name or home base, so he figures he’s safe for a little bit. 

He’s soon contacted by a figure from his past, Rick Redfield: 

 
With the promise of a large payday on the horizon, Miller’s in—and soon finds himself involved with some Nazis who escaped from Germany in the waning days of the war, Nazi hunters, and a few more dead bodies than Miller was prepared to deal with.
 
Supporting Cast
Miller and most of the characters that he deals with are of a fairly typical sort—you’ll recognize the types easily. They’re interestingly-drawn and well-used, but they’re types.

Then there’s Jill Reilly—she’s Miller’s love interest and is a secretary in the Medical Examiner’s office. Given the proper circumstances, she’d probably make a pretty good Examiner herself—but between the education, she’d need, and the rampant chauvinism in the office, that’s probably not going to happen. Reilly feels like she’s got one foot in the Girl Friday type, but with a rebellious streak that keeps the other foot out of the type.

The other character that stands out as not fitting into a typical mold is Scott, Redfield’s friend who acts as a liaison to the outside world when Redfield needs to stay out of the light. He’s a timid, uncertain man—who needs to use a ventriloquist’s dummy, Colonel Longshanks, to communicate those things that are too much for Scott to handle. Miller has no patience for either of them—but can force himself to work with Scott. The Colonel on the other hand…

There was a moment where I wondered if Scott/Colonel Longshanks would over-take Monkey Man as my favorite strange Kolakowski character. He didn’t, but that he was in the running says something about the character development in this short novel.

The Hidden Agenda
If what I’ve described seems pretty straight-forward, it is. If anyone’s read Kolakowski before, that’s not how he rolls. Right?

There is something else afoot here. I don’t know that it added much (if anything), but it didn’t hurt anything either. Maybe if I was in a different mood when I read this I’d have a more positive take on the “something else,” but right now, I can take it or leave it.

The material with Miller, the Nazis, Nazi Hunters is enough to focus on and keep you entertained. If you happen to get the rest of it, that’s gravy.

So, what did I think about Payback Is Forever?
This feels like the kind of pulpy thrillers from the 1960s and 70s I’ve read—just in a post-WWII setting with a dash of Nathanael West thrown in. It’s a surprisingly effective combination, and I’d have read another 200 pages of it without blinking. Although I do think this lean, mean, streamlined approach is far more effective.

Miller’s absolutely the kind of character you want in this setting—his morality is stuck in the gray—it’s a pretty dark gray, but he’s not a full-on villain. And he’s thinking about reforming, at least a little.

There were two scenes—or parts of scenes—that make this more than a quick, fun read. There’s a visual in the last big gunfight that’s so ridiculous, so comical, in the middle of a big action scene that makes you want a film version immediately (but it may be better in your imagination).

Before that there’s another scene that I can’t describe—you start it assuming X might happen, and yet when X does happen you still sit up and pay attention because you can’t believe that Kolakowski actually did that. And then over the next 3 or 4 paragraphs, the shocking scene becomes something so unexpected that you have to read it a couple of times to make sure you read it right. Cackling while you read it every time makes the comprehension a little difficult.

A solid, stylish thriller with Kolakowski’s style and sense of character is exactly what I needed to read last week, and Payback is Forever delivered. Do yourself a favor and pick it up.
 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader as a part of a Quick Takes Catch-up post, emphasizing pithiness, not thoroughness.
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This is a silly, fun, and sweet story in the world of The Dawn Patrol (one of my top 5 All-Time books), all our favorites get a quick appearance and we're introduced to a couple of new characters.

Despite being in the same world as the crime novels that introduced Winslow to me, there's no crime to be found here.

Which is fine—it's not needed in this short story. It's just a fun story about one of Boone's friends. I laughed audibly more than once, and just enjoyed the story as a whole—I just wish it was longer so I could spend more time in this world. The story didn't require it.

Ed Harris gives exactly what you'd expect from him in an audiobook narration—near perfection. I thought his stuff was great. 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader as a part of a Quick Takes Catch-up post, emphasizing pithiness, not thoroughness.
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The circus that Will used to be in is in trouble—one of their performers has been killed and another has been arrested. Will's mentor, to be specific. So she and Lillian Pentecost head down south to see what they can do.

It's a culture clash (both the South and the circus) for the duo—Will learns the hard way that maybe she's been gone too long—as well as a fish out of water kind of thing for Pentecost. Although not as much as Will and the reader might expect.

I enjoyed this one a lot more than the predecessor—it's still a bit too much about Will and her current love interest than it is about Pentecost and the case they're supposed to be working on. The mystery was clever, the character arcs were solid and Will's narrative voice is strong enough to keep the reader/listener locked in. 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader as a part of a Quick Takes Catch-up post, emphasizing pithiness, not thoroughness.
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So this is about what happens when animals and humans have a hard time co-existing—which basically means when animals being animals inconvenience (or worse) humans. Was that hiker killed by an animal, or did they die of other causes and become food for an animal? What happens when we put a building where an animal expected to be able to be?

I don't think it was as amusing as Roach tried to make it. It was interesting, but it went on too long and therefore became less-interesting the longer it went on. I don't remember anything more specific than that—which says something about the book. It just didn't hold my attention for long.

This is my first Mary Roach book—and maybe would've been my last if I hadn't run into a couple of other bloggers who are Roach fans that were as tepid as I was about the book. Still, I'm going to get a bit more distance between this book and my next. 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader as a part of a Quick Takes Catch-up post, emphasizing pithiness, not thoroughness.
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I was a little worried how the premise would carry over to a sequel, and I clearly shouldn't have—largely because Cosimano didn't just repeat the way the first book went. It was very much an "okay, so now with that finished, what comes next?"—assuming that Finlay and Vero don't just wholly abandon their new revenue stream.

We get some important new information about Vero—making a lot of what she did in the first book make sense. Finlay makes some smart romantic moves—and there's some decent movement on the divorce front.

All in all, a solid sequel that shows that this can be a series with legs, not just a quirky one-off. 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader as a part of a Quick Takes Catch-up post, emphasizing pithiness, not thoroughness.
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So, um...yeah. This was okay.

For the second book in a row, we get to peel back the mysterious backstory of one of Tori's new best friends while they're battling a new magical threat. This time it's demons—and rival guilds. One of which is pretty ethically challenged.

It was a bit too similar to the previous book for me. But it delivered the same kind of quippy UF action that characterizes the series. It's entertaining enough to keep going with the series—and to recommend them—I just want to see a little more out of them. 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader as a part of a Quick Takes Catch-up post, emphasizing pithiness, not thoroughness.
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This just seemed like a lot of fun when it was published last year, so when I saw it on the library site, I had to jump on it. And it was fun.

But it was a bit too short—I know that's by design, but it felt too abrupt. You got fighting robots on the cover, I want more than two major fights. Sure, the fights we get are pretty cool, but I wanted more.

If this was 20 percent longer, I'd have been happy. As it was? I was satisfied. 

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s DoubleBlind About? 

I’m going to appropriate the description from Hellman’s website so I don’t slip up and say something she wouldn’t like me to reveal about the plot. 

 
The Vaccination Storyline
I’m going to end up saying this at least a couple of times, but I thought it was a risky move to make the cornerstone of this novel a death that occurs right after the character receives a COVID-vaccination booster. It’s risky enough to try to get readers to invest in a COVID-era novel, but to center your plot on it—particularly vaccines right now? Hats off to her.

What’s more, there were a couple of times where I wondered if Hellman was on the verge of coming out pretty strongly anti-vaccination and other times I thought she was in danger of preaching the other direction—in the end, neither was true. There’s enough for everyone to like the way Georgia opines (and enough for everyone to dislike it, too). For Hellman’s sake, I hope her readers remember the views that are expressed by a fictional character do not necessarily match that of the author.

I thought the story wrapped up nicely, but I wish we’d gotten a little more time with it (and less of the Doppelgänger story).

The Doppelgänger Storyline
I’m of two minds about this storyline—I got really invested in Georgia’s doppelgänger. I’m not sure Hellman did the best job of depicting her story, but I really couldn’t get into everything surrounding her story—the reactions of those she left behind, Georgia’s involvement, the law enforcement angle…none of it seemed right.

If it stayed as a B-Plot to the Vaccine story, rather than taking over the book, I might have been better. If there’d been more nuance to the depiction of her husband—I’m not saying make him less of a clear-cut villain, just be more subtle about it’s shown.

Infodumps
Given the subject matter of the two storylines, a lot of research had to be done to make the details believable—and a good deal of the product of that research needed to be delivered to the readers, too. The trick comes in how that product is delivered. Hellman gets it right with one storyline, and less-right with the other.

When it comes to the vaccination storyline, Georgia has to dig in and find out more about the transportation of the vaccines and how things are supposed to go if there’s a problem with a patient post-vaccination. As Georgia does that research early on in the investigation, she has to think about what she learned and process it—this gives Hellman an opportunity to get that information in front of the readers in an organic way—even if it is an infodump.

On the other hand, Georgia and another character or two (being purposefully vague) need to be given information about Fundamentalist LDS culture and practices. Which results in some awkward infodumps—one that’s so far beyond awkward and ill-timed that I couldn’t suspend disbelief enough to handle the scene.

I’ve often heard authors in interviews talk about the temptation to use all their research in a novel, because it’s just so interesting. The infodumps about the Fundamentalist LDS felt like Hellman just had to share everything she learned.* Giving us the information in a smoother fashion, and only what was needed (at least explicitly, she could’ve alluded to more) would’ve worked better for the flow of the story—and might have provoked the reader to go read more on their own.

* “Felt like” is the key term there, she clearly could’ve gone more in-depth, but in the moment it seemed like she left it all on the page.

So, what did I think about DoubleBlind?
There’s some really strong storytelling at work here, with characters that Hellman’s clearly spent a lot of time crafting over the previous five novels.
 
I had some issues with some of the mechanics of writing—I thought that some of the dialogue needed another editing pass or two, some of it is best described as “clunky.” Not all of it—but enough that it stood out as a problem. The pacing could’ve been tighter in spots, there are the above comments about the infodumps (for both good and ill) and I don’t think Hellman prioritized the stronger storyline as she ought to have. Those detracted from and diluted the storytelling and characters—but not to the extent I wasn’t entertained by the novel or intrigued by the stories.
 
I’ll say it again, the way she incorporated COVID-19, the restrictions, and vaccinations was a gutsy move. I’m not wholly convinced it was the best way to approach it, but it was a pretty successful effort, and a nicely calculated risk.
 
Would I recommend this? Yeah, I would—maybe with a few reservations, but I don’t think they’re important enough to make me wave off a potential reader. Am I going to read Georgia Davis #7? I think it’s likely, I’m curious to see how Georgia moves from this point.
 
Georgia Davis is an intriguing character with a lot to commend her to your attention. Hellman’s a solid storyteller. That’s a combination I’m glad to recommend.