Generally when I elect not to finish reading a book, out of courtesy to the author I do not leave a review. Because, perhaps the book is simply not to my taste, and maybe if I gave it a chance, it would get better.
This time, I feel compelled to both close the book here at chapter 24, aggravated that I have given it this much of my energy, and to leave a review that might help other people choose not to read it. It flabbergasts me that the Amazon rating is four stars.
This is the story of a rookie detective who is a self described dilettante, and the fact of his dabbling in this and that of course gives him the dimension needed to begin to solve the horrific crimes to which the author invites us. There is also the rookie reporter, who happens to have been a love interest of the rookie detective back in their school days. This must be because every gruesome murder needs a romance along with it. And it is the story of the killer, sort of. Perhaps had I finished the book the killer would have been revealed in less loathsome detail than in the first 24 chapters. But I doubt it.
It appears initially as if author Armando Rodera will spare us the horrific, nightmare details of the opening crime scene, details he takes care to advise us will give the detectives and news writers nightmares for the rest of their lives. I am fully aware that in the noir genre, readers can feel cheated if they cannot smell the gore. I personally would appreciate it if books got ratings for this sort of thing, like XXX if scene after scene includes painstaking wordy reconstructions of not only how the body is laid out but how it came to happen just in that way, etc. I would rather not feel the urge to puke when I am reading.
But, moving past that, the writing in this story could not have more cliches if the writer determined that every paragraph should have at least one trite old phrase. To make it worse and worse, every time our little low people on the totem pole have a conversation with their bosses, they are always urged to get to the point and treated generally with contempt followed with grudging admiration when they actually do or find something of value. But the admiration falls back to contempt for the next scene. How tiresome.
It was the oft repeated hackneyed phrase "to what do I owe this honor?" that loosened something in my skull, after the news reporter went back to work because "she thought she might be of some use in the office" with the biggest breaking story of her career happening, please.
If hackneyed, trite phraseology combined with gratuitously sensorily detailed descriptions of the aftermath of murder scenes are what you like in a book, this is for you. If you do not tire of people treating one another with scorn for no reason other than seniority, you might like this. If you prefer your characters to behave as if their emotional growth stopped suddenly at age 14, that is another reason to reach for this title. Again, usually I feel that taste in a book is a highly individual thing, but four stars for this dreck? There is not even a mystery to be solved here. We see the perpetrator and know what a demented individual he is, and presume the rookie and the news writer will eventually catch up with him, but not before the rookie gets to rescue the damsel in distress with the blood already dripping from the murderers knife as he stands over her, his saliva mixing with the blood as he gets ready to thrust himself into her. Just guessing.