Breaking Point by Dana Haynes

A breathtaking thriller about a plane crash involving a team of plane crash investigators, a hired assassin, illegal weapons and plenty of intrigue.


Three plane crash investigators, known as crashers, are en route to a conference when their plane goes down in the woods of Montana. Their skills quickly reveal this was no accident, but they weren’t the target: one of their fellow passengers was headed to the same conference to reveal information about illegal weapons deals, and his jilted business partners have responded by using banned technologies to take down a plane half-full of civilians. A staggering cast of agents from the FBI, CIA, ATF and warring factions of the crashers’ own National Transportation Safety Board (plus a hired assassin!) rush to respond, but some of them are out to sabotage the investigation. The adrenaline-filled story zips from drug busts on the Mexican border to the back streets of Spain, through Washington, D.C., and the Montana backwoods–where, as the action ratchets up, a small town is literally (yes, literally) caught between a forest fire and a flood, both of which threaten to destroy key evidence, as the bullets start flying.

You needn’t have read Crashers, Dana Haynes’s first novel, to be wrapped up in the breathless momentum of this action-packed thriller. It has more than enough violence, overlapping loyalties and double- and triple-crossings to create its own web of intrigue. The characters are interesting and likeable, and the dialogue is cute, but they take a back seat to the story’s headlong, full-speed pace and edge-of-your-seat thrills.


This review originally ran in the November 18, 2011 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!


Kushiel’s Dart by Jacqueline Carey

Yet another hit for Amy, my sci-fi friend. She’s 4-for-4 now, by my memory: first she gave me a (rare!) copy of Thank Heaven Fasting (the non-sci-fi outlier); then lent me The Hemingway Hoax; then recommended Soulless and now Kushiel’s Dart.

This is truly an epic masterpiece of world-building. I will go so far as to mention J.R.R. Tolkien.

I am a little bit challenged to categorize this story further; sci-fi I suppose it is. It is also speculative fiction? These genres are a little out of my league! There is some romance; there is plenty of sex. There is political and courtly intrigue. Think Tolkien for the world-building, and then add Philippa Gregory for the courtly intrigue and playful sex, even Sharon Kay Penman’s attention to detail; but it’s never slow! Oh no, I read these 901 pages (901!) in a two-day weekend. Many long hours and some lost sleep, but well worth it.

I don’t expect to be able to do much with plot summation, but I’ll try and give you a taste. The people of Terre d’Ange worship the demigod Elua and his Companions; the words he gave them to live by are, “love as thou wilt.” Love – or more to the point, sex – is considered a form of worship, and an entire class of men and women are raised from birth to be Servants of Naamah, the goddess-prostitute. They’re trained, then, in courtly manners as well as sexual tricks, which they perform for fees until the House that trained them has been paid off, and then they are free to continue in business for themselves or to pursue whatever path they choose.

Phèdre would have belonged to one of the Houses of the Servants of Naamah, but she was born flawed, or marked, by the dart of Kushiel, the one of Elua’s companions who loves pain. For her, pain and pleasure are forever linked. She is raised by an individual, not a House, and trained for a specialized kind of service, one that combines pain and degradation with sex. Her patron/caregiver/adopted parent is Anafiel Delaunay, and he has more in mind than the profits of her work; he trains her not only as a very high-class courtesan, but as an information-gathering multilingual scholar-spy. It is unclear to the young Phèdre what Anafiel’s political goals are, but she is very talented at playing her own role in his game, and she is deeply committed. Anafiel is a beloved father figure.

All of this transpires in the first third or less of the book, but I’ll stop here. Phèdre gets involved in matters of state much larger than she could ever have expected, and it will take all her formidable skills to protect herself and those she loves – and maybe, to save her nation.

I found Kushiel’s Dart to be incredibly engrossing. I couldn’t put this book down; I just couldn’t bear to leave Phèdre in a predicament. I came to love and root for her companions; I was invested in this story. I recommend it to anyone who likes to get lost in another world – and the world of Terre d’Ange and her neighboring nations is most definitely “other,” although there are recognizable traces of our own.

Amy tells me that this is the first in a trilogy, and there are three trilogies; but she assures us that each trilogy stands alone. This first installment stands alone outstandingly well too, although I won’t say you won’t be tempted to keep reading further! She also assures us that the books, if anything, improve as the series develop. All good news there.

Has anyone else discovered these outstanding epic novels? Anyone tempted to? I recommend!

The Man Who Smiled by Henning Mankell (audio)

My experience with Scandinavian thrillers is very limited, and no, I have not read any Stieg Larsson. Henning Mankell is reputed to be a standard of the genre that Larsson dominates these days. I was curious and hoped to find a new thriller/mystery author so I picked up this audiobook.

Mankell’s serial character, Kurt Wallander, is a detective in the Ystad police force in Sweden. When the book opens, he’s on leave, trying to recover from the experience of having killed a man – justifiably, in self defense, but still. He has just decided to retire permanently when an old friend, Sten Torstensson, appears, begging Wallander to look into his (Sten’s) father’s death. Gustav Torstensson’s death was ruled accidental – a car crash – but Sten believes he was murdered. Wallander refuses to rejoin the police force – until Sten is killed just weeks later. This convinces our detective, and he comes back to work to investigate the two deaths, and the crimes that spiral on from there.

I am not terribly impressed. The case is rather convoluted, but not convincingly so; I am not enraptured by the twisting threads of guilt and intrigue; I am not held on the edge of my seat. The investigation of the crime is drawn out; many pages pass in which relatively little happens. I was impatient at some point to get the thing over with, especially since the reader knows who the bad guy is from the beginning, thus killing the suspense. (Sometimes this is done well, but not here.) Wallander is somewhat developed as a character, but I felt that we were told more than made to feel his trauma, his personal demons, the difficult family relationships he struggles with. (I’m willing to allow that it might help to read the whole series, or to read in order. But then again, I feel that any individual novel should stand alone, too.) There was a certain amount of… well, it sounded like whining to me.

One detail I struggled with: I know that guns are far, far less prevalent in Scandinavia than they are here in my native USA (and my native Texas in particular). But I still have trouble believing that a Swedish police officer, when approached by a man brandishing a pistol – not aimed at him, and with assurances that he means well – would faint. This and other details felt unrealistic to me and took away from my ability to get lost in the story. That, or the Swedish police are wussies?

In one of the final scenes we supposedly learn all the details and backstory and tie up the loose ends, but the explanation of all those loose ends wasn’t convincing to me; it felt unfinished. And forgive me for being jaded – maybe I’ve been exposed to too much hyper-violent stateside crime drama – but Wallander’s deep shock at the depravity of the crimes in this story felt a little bit extreme to me. Again – this is a police officer? Is this really the worst he’s ever seen by an exponential factor?

Sorry for being harsh, Mr. Mankell; I understand you have a devoted following. But either I missed something, or I need to steer clear of Kurt Wallander in future.

book beginnings on Friday: Burned by Thomas Enger

Thanks to Katy at A Few More Pages for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

I was sent a copy of Thomas Enger’s Burned by the publisher for review. They tell me it’s “a new series from Scandinavian writer Thomas Enger about an investigative journalist who is dealing with his own personal wounds after returning to work for the first time since he lost his son in a tragic fire,” and that was enough to intrigue me. I go for the damaged detectives! (Harry Bosch, Dave Robicheaux…)

It begins, Prologue, September 2007:

He thinks it’s dark all around him, but he can’t be sure. He can’t seem to open his eyes. Is the ground cold? Or wet?

I’d say that’s a strong first few lines. I’m curious to know why he can’t open his eyes. Perhaps this is the original burn? I’ll read on. 🙂

What are you reading this weekend?

Soulless by Gail Carriger

My friend Amy told me about the Parasol Protectorate series, and I was intrigued. It took me a while to find a copy of this, the first in the series, but it was worth finding!

The cover asserts that this is “a novel of vampires, werewolves and parasols,” and so the uniqueness begins. The series is set in Victorian London, and combines the genres of paranormal romance and steampunk along with, I suppose, alternate history. And there is a mystery as well. Most interesting.

Alexia Tarabotti is a confirmed spinster of the advanced age of twenty-six. There are several setbacks to her marriageability: her father is both dead and (was) Italian; he gave her a swarthy complexion; her nose is rather large; she is tall; and her personality is far too assertive and prickly to make her a decent wife. Furthermore, she is a preternatural – meaning, she has no soul. In Alexia’s society, werewolves and vampires are well-integrated into society (if not entirely accepted in all circles). To become a vampire or a werewolf, one must have an excess of soul; Alexia’s total lack thereof means that she can, with a touch, neutralize supernatural qualities. At the opening of the book, a vampire attacks her and in defending her, she accidentally kills him. The werewolf authority sent to investigate the death is a peer, one Lord Maccon, with whom she has tangled in the past. As new vampires begin appearing where they shouldn’t, and known vampires (and werewolves) fail to appear where they should, Alexia comes under suspicion. The clever and not-to-be-daunted Alexia, with her preternatural abilities to help her along, works on solving the mystery, further motivated on repeated attempts to abduct her. Lord Maccon works on the mystery because it’s his job. The two have some personality clashes but are also drawn to each other (cue the classic romance-novel device).

There is no arguing against the absolute silliness of this book, but it is oh! so much fun! I really enjoyed the romance that develops between Lord Maccon and Alexia. They struggle with understanding one another’s culture in their courtship: his involves pack dynamics that she’s unfamiliar with, and hers involves chaperones and proper proceedings that Alexia herself is not terribly comfortable with, being such a spinster. Carriger writes some very funny scenes; I giggled aloud. The mystery is engaging. The steampunk background was totally new to me and didn’t necessarily add anything to the appeal, other than being a layer of interest, something shiny to look at between steamy scenes.

I am surprised at myself, because I haven’t liked any paranormal romances yet; but despite the vampires (Lord Akeldama is great fun!) and the werewolves (Lord Maccon is really a sexy beast) this was an engaging, entertaining, clever story with a very likeable main character. I think I’ll seek out more of the Parasol Protectorate series! I wonder if we’ll ever learn more about the incident involving the hedgehog?? Thanks Amy for a very strong recommendation!

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

Oooh, spooky! Just that cover alone, are you kidding?? I have been hearing about this book mostly just on the blogosphere for a while now (how come I never heard about it in real life, I wonder?) and was so excited to finally find time for it! Yum! My first lightbulb moment was in reading (on the cover, in the blurb, somewhere) that Shirley Jackson also wrote The Lottery, that hair-raising short story we read in school. Aha! Scary stuff, indeed.

This was a delightful little book, and I read its 146 pages in a day – not in a sitting, mind you, but over breakfast, lunch, dinner, and before bed. I didn’t want to let it rest any longer than I had to! I loved the way that Jackson meted out details; I just knew there was something waiting for me around the corner that was going to blow the whole story wide open, if I just turned one more page…

Our narrator, Mary Katherine or Merrikat, opens the book with her last trek into town for groceries and library books. It seems she used to make this trip twice a week; but after that last time, no more. In that prior time – the whole book is told in flashback – Merrikat lived in the big family house with her sister, Constance, and their Uncle Julian, an invalid. The townspeople hate them. It gradually becomes clear why, and only as the story continues to unfold do we learn why the past tense, and what’s different about the present.

Merrikat is a delightful narrator. She sees things her own way, which is the perk of living with two well-loved relatives and a cat (Jonas) and no one else. She has her own system of controlling her world, by burying charmed items, assigning special powers to special words (melody! gloucester!), and concentration. She tries to make Cousin Charles (an unwanted visitor) go away through her own brand of witchcraft, by removing and replacing items in the room he’s staying in. She is also a delightful narrator because her reliability must be questioned.

I don’t want to give any more plot details away. You must read this book! There is a whimsical tone, and a whole new set of rules. I really enjoyed learning how Merrikat viewed the world, what items had significance to her. There was definite suspense. Believe the hype, friends. Shirley Jackson will draw you into her world and tickle the back of your neck and you’ll love it!

Teaser Tuesdays: The Innocent by Taylor Stevens

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

I have a totally awesome thriller to share with you today. Taylor Stevens’s second novel, The Innocent, revisits Vanessa Michael Munroe from her first, The Informationist. I didn’t read the first one, but I am a fan now. I recognized Munroe as a sort of a female Jack Reacher; she’s also been compared to Jason Bourne and Lisbeth Sanders, so there you go. [These are the protagonists of series by Lee Child, Robert Ludlum, and Stieg Larsson, respectively.]

My teaser comes from page 178 of my galley copy:

There, crowded into every seat and the floor space between, were the same one hundred and fifty from the dining area. Together they spent an hour of dedication to The Prophet, songs and selected readings, and as Munroe assumed was the same for many in this room, she countered the boredom of it all by allowing her mind to wander free, wondering if they were so naïve as to fail to recognize the obvious – that even the most unsuspecting visitor would realize that this evening show had been put on especially for her.

This book is great adrenaline-filled fun. Stay tuned for my review, to be published in Shelf Awareness a little closer to the Dec. 27 publication date.

This quotation comes from an uncorrected advance proof and is subject to change.

Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich

I enjoyed this book, but I finished it still unsure of what actually happened in the story.

This was my first experience with the acclaimed Louise Erdrich, and she writes beautifully. I easily got lost in each chapter’s character and events; she creates a world, a culture, seemingly without effort and so completely. It was a lovely experience. This book is a series of vignettes, or character studies. Each chapter is told in first person by a different character, or even several different characters within a chapter, which to some extent added to my confusion; but they had pretty distinct voices. All the characters are related by blood, marriage, and/or life events, so there is a cohesion to the book as a whole; it’s not a collection or anything. But I’ll be honest. I sometimes lost track of how the characters were connected & who was who, exactly. Sometimes I flipped around trying to resolve things but mostly (especially as I moved further into the book) I just let myself float around a little bit confused. It worked for me this way. If you do a better job than I did of keeping things straight, I’m sure you’ll find a very enjoyable sum of all parts; but even if you take it in as I did, I think you’ll find a string of remarkable evocative stories.

The characters come from several families of Native Americans (American Indians? I’m not sure what’s correct) in North Dakota. The families overlap and merge, through marriage, the production of children both in and out of (and across) marriages; and in local politics and interactions. Their culture – as Native Americans on “the rez” as well as in each distinct, and indistinct, family unit – is one of the framing elements of the book, and I found the cultural examination very interesting. Their relationship with the “outside world” of white Americans was an important feature, too. Mostly, though, the stories feature relationships between our characters: mothers & children, spouses, lovers, aunts & uncles and neighbors. Love is a theme, and sex, and the question of parentage comes up rather frequently. There is lots of heavy drinking and battling with alcohol.

There is sadness in most of the stories, and death, but there is hope and such a great deal of humor, too. Erdrich succeeds in placing me in a place and a culture and making me feel what her characters are feeling. Her writing is beautiful, musical. And so often funny! I pulled a few passages for you that describe one of our matriarchs:

She agreed, taking alert nips of her perfectly covered slice. She had sprinkled a teaspoon of sugar over it, carefully distributing the grains. That was how she was. Even with eights boys her house was neat as a pin. The candy bowl on the table sat precisely on its doily. All her furniture was brushed and straightened. Her coffee table held a neat stack of Fate and True Adventure magazines. On her walls she’d hung matching framed portraits of poodles, kittens, and an elaborate embroidered portrait of Chief Joseph. Her windowsills were decorated with pincushions in the shapes of plump little hats and shoes.

“I make these.” She cupped a tiny blue sequined pump in her hand. “You have a girlfriend? I’ll give it to you. Here.”

…several pages later, still talking about the same woman:

Lulu was bustling about the kitchen in a calm, automatic frenzy. She seemed to fill pots with food by pointing at them and take things from the oven that she’d never put in. The table jumped to set itself. The pop foamed into glasses, and the milk sighed to the lip. The youngest boy, crushed in a high chair, watched eagerly while things placed themselves around him. Everyone sat down. Then the boys began to stuff themselves with a savage and astonishing efficient. Before Bev had cleaned his plate once, they’d had thirds, and by the time he looked up from dessert, they had melted through the walls. The youngest had levitated from his high chair and was sleeping out of sight.

See, isn’t that funny and evocative?

I found Love Medicine a unique and enjoyable read, if unorthodox in its structure. I recommend it.

For those who have read this book: did I space out somewhere, or did anyone else have trouble holding the family trees together? Does it matter?

movie: The Rum Diary (2011)

I went with my friend Justin to see The Rum Diary, starring Johnny Depp and based on the novel of the same name by Hunter S. Thompson. My experience with Thompson is woefully limited; I’ve seen Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and that’s all. I feel like I should have read him by now, and maybe someday I will.

Based on that one other Thompson experience, I’ll say that the movie was absolutely recognizable as coming from the same mind; the mood is a rambling, drunken, drugged, yet often profound rush through life with relatively little concern for peripheral consequences. Paul Kemp arrives in San Juan, Puerto Rico to start work at a newspaper there. He’s trying to be a novelist but failing so far; he hasn’t found his voice. Kemp finds it easy to drink & drug with his new friends there. His new boss is not interested in the human-interest, social-justice, exposé-style stories he tries to write. And a new acquaintance wants to hire him to write promotional materials for real estates ventures that will result in the defiling of yet another island of virgin Caribbean paradise. Kemp is not interested in this work; but he’s very interested in the man’s girlfriend.

Kemp and friends get themselves into scrapes; they get arrested, party at Carnival (a Caribbean version), battle the establishment. It’s a story of redemption as well as of drug-addled hilarity. This is a very funny movie. (Look out for the scene involving the operation of a car missing its front seat.) It also offers some serious moments, and seriously cynical ones. My movie date Justin knows Thompson much better than I do, and he feels that this autobiographical work of fiction was a sort of mission statement for the writer. Kemp eventually finds his voice, and I think we can probably agree that Thompson did, too. I thought it was a very good movie; very funny and also very serious and thought-provoking and sad. Also, Johnny Depp was absolutely the perfect choice for the role of Paul Kemp. His wildly expressive, comical face was just right for the character and the movie, and all it had to say.

Hunter S. Thompson: this photo is on the cover of the book

The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood (audio)

Margaret Atwood is a master of world-building. This was a great experience: disturbing, thought-provoking, funny, frightening, and completely real.

In The Year of the Flood, we check in with Toby and with Ren, both weathering out the aftermath of the “waterless flood” that seems to have almost entirely wiped out humankind. We’re also treated to a series of flashbacks to their lives before the flood. In that dystopic world, the CorpSeCorps rule a sinister corporate/business/police state, and the Gardeners preach the gospel of the flood to come and their own brand of “green,” vegetarian, wacky Christianity. Toby was an Eve in the Gardeners, and Ren, a former Gardener, was a sex worker in a high-end club. I don’t want to say much more about plot; the constant discovering of new surprises was very special and I want to preserve that for you.

One of the unique aspects of this audiobook was the songs that accompanied the sermons preached by Adam One, the Gardeners’ leader. For one thing, various narrators are employed, which is always interesting; Adam One has his own narrator, so we hear his sermons in his own voice. I found them creepy, but the hymns were creepier still. Music on an audiobook is a great use of the format, and one I’m mostly unfamiliar with. In this case, they helped set a tone that I found overwhelmingly… disturbing. I’m a little alarmed by organized religion to begin with, and pretty sympathetic to vegetarian-hippie-feel-good systems of thought; but this combination of the two was definitely a little bit cultish and perverse. There is an eerie other-worldly feeling to the pre-flood dystopia. And then of course, our flashbacks to that world are interspliced with tidbits of the lonely experiences of Toby and Ren in the frightening new world, where liobams (lion-lambs) and rackunks (raccoon-skunks) run wild.

And speaking of creepiness, can I mention this? One character is a refugee from Texas, which was made unliveable by a hurricane, which of course wins prizes for believability but the flip side of that coin is it’s a little close to home, Ms. Atwood! She does paint an alarming picture of the-world-as-we-know-it, but different.

There are several qualities that make this book special and remarkable. Toby, Ren, Zeb, and Amanda are all such real and fully-developed characters; they live and breathe. The pre-flood world of the CorpSeCorps and the Gardeners is both fantastic and wild and foreign and also startlingly close to home; this may very well be what we’re headed towards, you’ll think as you read/listen. It, too, is well-developed, fully-realized, frighteningly realistic and possible. The pacing of the story builds the tension perfectly; new tidbits are discovered at just the right moments; the tension grows. At the start of the story, we meet both Toby and Ren, each in her respective hiding place and suspecting she’s the last living human on earth; as the flashbacks unfurl, we learn how each ended up where she is. The jumpy chronology adds to the disjointed feeling the book inspires. It’s really just masterfully done. And the audio was extremely well done, too.

I don’t feel I’ve done this book justice. I don’t want to say too much; but maybe too I’m just not up to the task. I recommend Atwood and, as Valerie pointed out, you should read Oryx and Crake before this one as it is a sequel of sorts; although I think it is very satisfying on its own, too. (I did read the former but have mostly forgotten it…) I also want to direct you to Kerry’s review, also of the audiobook, as she did a great job. (Maybe I’m just having trouble following her!)

This is a creepy-crawly, perfectly executed story about the dystopian future we might be headed towards, and the audio is A+.