Jennifer Worrell's Edge of Sundown—my Review

 Edge of Sundown, is the rare book that takes all of your expectations and turns them on their hypothetical ear. What is supposed to be a simple who-done-it, does what genre does best—it makes you think beyond the pages. Jennifer Worrell does all of this through an engaging plot and compelling characters.

Val Haverford, seems another down-on-his-creative-luck writer, world-weary and a little entitled. But it’s not vanity that drives Val as much as the past. Haunted by an abusive childhood, a tragic death, and a lifetime of burnt bridges, Val is seeking redemption. 

Betrayed by his health and a faltering imagination, Val has carved out a book radically different from the sun-seared-west-and-celestial-vistas that made his reputation as an innovative master of genre. Hewn from current events—seemingly random killings that may not be random at all—Val’s newest work is more of a tortured manifesto that leaves him as uneasy as elated. Still, his publisher and friend, Graham is all-too glad for another Haverford novel, the first in a decade. 

On his return to the friendly-fire of publishing and sales, Val meets Sandra. An entertainment news reporter and producer facing down her own past and present demons. Val is drawn to her warm-as-toast personality and stunning looks but as she shares her dreams, he can almost see a path beyond the past that haunts him and beyond the book he’s hinged so much of his life on. 

Then, on the cusp of publication, Val’s life begins to outpace his fiction. His entire outline including the ending is dumped on the internet by an agency intern. Days later, Val is violently assaulted in his home. As disinterested as the police are in a minor isolated assault, they manage to tie it up as a random burglary.  

But Val knows better. If his assailant’s words were not clear enough, the message in a missing computer and the only paper draft of his revisions is unmistakable: drop the book.

Torn between defiance and despair, Val resigns himself to walking away from the story, his redemption, and his comeback. Only a murder, too close to home compels him—first in print and then in action as an unwitting/unwilling sleuth–to follow up on his hunch. Through heartbreak and repeated betrayal Val continues to worry at the thread running through all the horror blanketing him.

But as violence spirals back around, can Val knit together the pieces of the mystery or will he become another random statistic?

While EoS is no sermon, it is unflinching and honest. Worrell delivers bill-come-due commentary. Her Chicago, at once movie-and-TV-show familiar is menacing and otherworldly. Her protagonist, Val is true blue all the more so because of his feet of clay. Hard as it is to believe, this is a first book and a great introduction to a gifted author. I can’t wait to read what comes next.

Buy Edge of Sundown here.

Crime Report: FalconClaw Fraternal Book Review

 

Michael Cook’s FalconClaw Fraternal takes us back to Philadelphia, the 39th Precinct, and to our old friend, Detective Frank Calazzo. Unfortunately, it is no longer Frank’s Philadelphia. Killers have taken the town.

Talon and Genesis, abandoned kids, working from abandoned buildings have taken ownership of the shadows and the streets. By striking down the protectors, the killers seize the keys to the city.

This is Cook’s fourth book in his 39th Precinct series. And like the three previous books, it is completely different in tone. The first book, Old Man Winter is a cozy with an edge. The second book, Sleep Room is an old-school procedural while the third, Säters, was a white-knuckle thriller. 

But Fraternal is a thing of its own that I’m almost scared to name for fear of spoiling the turns. Cook crosses genres and to call the book by any one of those genres discounts the punch of the others. Suffice to say, Fraternal is NOT a cozy. Nor is it a book for the faint of heart. The violence here is graphic and visceral. It is also far more immediate.

Like Frank and Jon “Bones” Sullivan, ( Frank’s new partner) the cops, Talon and Genesis the killers, are all bound by the past. All wounded by family horror, loss, and pain. While the previous books gave us bits and pieces of familiar comfort in steamed-heat and joint-aching cold on snowy mornings, winter-desolation of dread permeates Fraternity, even in mid-May where we begin. The specter of death dogs Frank’s heels as he hunts the killers hunting him and other police through the dark-night Philly streets. 

Every killing, every dead cop takes a toll on Frank, already stretched to his limits. Even as his friends Doug Cantrell and Captain Beatrice Jackson attempt to save him, Frank dives deeper into his investigation. Truly, he has nothing else. Exiled from his family home, alienated from new cops stumping for political advancement and old cops who see Frank as a bad luck, all he has is the hunt for the killers before they kill anymore of his family-in-blue.

That is both Fraternal’s greatest strength and heart-aching weakness—isolation. No one is safe and Cook deftly reminds us of this with every twist and turn. We miss Penny (Frank’s wife and one-time police partner) as much as Frank does. His pain is our pain as well.

But between sleeping in cars and dodging intrusive thoughts, flashbacks, and fears, Frank hunts the hunters. The job, the only handle on life and his mental health, keeps Frank moving even as it takes years off his life. Therein lies Cook’s other balancing act: character development and writing development.

Cook delivers the readers’ expectations. Frank Collazo is steadfast and dedicated; just as we remember him. But Frank’s world has shifted. Cook’s writing reflects the shift, the pain, and the trauma. We feel it right along Frank.

But where previous books were target-locked on the hunters, Frank and Penny, here we never lose touch with the predators. As a result we also get the most fully fleshed out villains in Cook’s repertoire.  

A note on tone. This a composite of  my reviews of The Sleep Room and Säters:

While the tone is different, the focus, and the killer are completely different, what Cook has retained is his sensibility for the reader. There is violence, (more so than in OMW) but this is no gore-fest. While there is coarse language, indeed, grown-up discussions, there is no explicit sexual scenes or any sexual violence. 

Mostly, this still holds true. The violence here is more emotional than in previous books. But do 

note, this is not a cozy.  

Here, Cook steps out on the tightrope of his story and trusts his balance as a storyteller. It’s a risk that pays off in a taut visceral story. 

What has not changed is the pace. Four-hundred pages fly by. Philadelphia natives will delight at recognizing factual events and factual people that fill out this work of fiction. Ultimately, FalconClaw Fraternal is a thrilling read for a dark and stormy night. Check it out here.

The image above belongs to Michael Cook. Its use here for educational/instructional purposes as covered by the Fair Use Doctrine.