Private detective John Arsenal can’t tell you what terrible crime he committed to wind up in a sweltering urban hellscape, surrounded by thieves, drug addicts and murderers—only that it was very bad, and now he’s being punished. That’s because in Hell—or Brimstone, as the damned prefer to call it—your identity, your memories, even your name, are stripped away from you.
John is relatively comfortable in his damnation, working easy cases and making himself at home in the grimy squalor of the afterlife. That is, until a mysterious woman appears in his office, begging him to find her missing sister, and promising him the impossible in return—a glimpse of his old life, before Brimstone.
To track down the enigmatic Sophie, John must delve into Brimstone’s darkest recesses, where murderous children run wild in packs, and a strange and terrifying new drug promises to deliver the user to the heights of ecstasy, but at the risk of being snuffed out of existence altogether. All the while, John must grapple with the vivid nightmares that have haunted him since his arrival in Brimstone, and confront the thing he desires and dreads the most—the truth of what he did to deserve damnation.
He’s a gumshoe in Brimstone. A P.I. in Hell. He goes by the name of John Arsenal.
On a good day, no one tries to wave him and he doesn’t return the favor.
In hell, you’re already dead, so to wave someone is to erase them. “…something more terrifying than damnation.” To end their soul’s existence.
Arsenal knows she’s trouble the minute she opens her mouth. The sweet looking Mirelle Bissette. She wants him to locate her missing sister. Her identical twin, Sophie.
That’s a problem. You see, in Hell, no one knows what they did to wind up there. No one remembers their life before they died, or their real name. So how can she remember her real name, or that she even had a sister?
She claims she knew Arsenal before. Before Brimstone. And she uses that knowledge as leverage to get him to take her case. If he does, she’ll tell him how she knew him, what his real name was, and most importantly, what he did to get him sent to hell. That was too hard to resist and he takes the case. Begins the search for Sophie.
I knew I was going to love this book. A P.I. in Hell. I wondered what kind of cases he would have. What kind of clients.
With no money in hell, the author came up with some much desired, plausible, items in exchange for currency.
And what would hell be without some drugs to get you through the monotonous days. Switch is the new drug of choice. It does something that shouldn’t be possible. Could hell get any worse?
John’s search for Sophie takes him to the dangerous outskirts of Brimstone. It’s where “they” roam. The orphans or Brimstone. Mirelle says her sister mentioned them. Worried that they were left to fend for themselves.
Imagine it. Adults had time to mature. To choose to do whatever terrible thing it was that landed them in hell. What must the children be like. I shudder to think. They are frozen in time. Evil in small form. They’ll wave you just for the fun of it.
From first page to last, I was completely absorbed in this story. The writing is excellent, the story reads easily and quickly, and the characters are entertaining or disgusting, as they should be. And the world is incredibly creative and visually alive.
Bravo to the author. An excellent debut novel. Can’t wait to see where John lands next.
Very well-done debut novel from M. Ryan Seaver, with a really cool concept: Noir mystery in Hell. I was just as vested in watching the (under)world-building unfold as I was in the characters and the mystery that drives the plot. I don't think I've ever read a mix of genres like this in a single work ... but I am certainly hoping to read more if further books come out :)
I pretty much loved everything about this book, and were it not for some conceptual contradictions, or at least confusion, I would enthusiastically have given it a 5. I confess it drives me nuts when a fabulous piece of fiction leaves me with nagging questions that should've been addressed in the course of the story.
One, which is integral to the world-building, bugged me nonstop. What exactly is the nature of corporeality in this portrayal of Hell (or what the residents call Brimstone)? At one point the narrator says, "I'm fairly certain you need a body made of flesh and not just your soul's twisted imaginings to get cancer." Dead folks' immunity to disease is why Brimstonians don't fear smoking, or drinking rotgut liquor and tainted water, or having sex with truly skanky prostitutes. Makes sense, right? EXCEPT...they carry and use weapons. Um, why? Why are they intimidated by sharp objects and big rocks and homemade guns, and quail at the thought of being injured by same? How can the dead be physically invulnerable in some ways but not others? Later on a character says, "You may not have a body, but your brain knows how to die." How can one have a brain without a body? Is this, too, one of the "soul's twisted imaginings?" Problem is, these souls' imaginings are conveniently inconsistent (to serve the needs of the plot, I assume), and, as a result, the whole spirit-vs.-flesh issue had me befuddled throughout the book.
Then there's the vile drug, Switch. Is it the brief blast of euphoria or the more prolonged oblivion that makes it so enticing? And why do people not dread the effects of this drug yet go in mortal terror of being "waved"? Don't the two experiences produce essentially the same result? If the answer is, Well, users expect to wake up from a hit of Switch, that leads to another question. If oblivion is so intensely appealing to them, why do they care about waking up at all? Moreover, why are the good guys (relatively speaking) in such a self-righteous lather about Switch? Oh, it's icky-caca BAD and we must eliminate it and the dastardly villains who make and peddle it! Come on. Surely they understand their fellow Hell-dwellers' need for escape, regardless of what form it takes.
So there you have it -- a generally satisfied reader (kind of thrilled, in fact, because this superbly-written book thoroughly engaged me) whose OCD kicks in when chinks appear in an otherwise solid story. I do hope the author resolves these bothersome contradictions in the remaining John Arsenal Mysteries. 'Cause, man, I'm hooked!
This book had me right out of the gate. I like paranormal books that challenge my perceptions of what is. I had never really considered hell as a livable place, but this books encourages you to consider hell differently. I love the main character and the others that we meet along the way. The plot is well done, enough detail, but doesn't over do it. The twists and turns and shifting in my mind of who is a good guy and bad guy made me play close attention as I read, and I often found myself reflecting on the characters as I went about my day. I loved the ending and can't wait to read the next John Arsenal book!
No Bad Deed is a terrific urban fantasy noir mystery. That might seem like a mouthful, but the end result is a story that's original, compelling, and beautifully written. It's set in Hell. Think Detroit on a really bad day. John Arsenal, the private-detective sleuth, is a worthy main character and I'm looking forward to reading about his adventures throughout the series. I LOVE discovering a wonderful new author like M. Ryan Seaver!
Mysteries are not my favorite genre, but when I hear a tag line of "a detective novel set in hell," it gets my attention. I'm so glad I picked up this book! The characters are complex and well written, and the plot keeps you guessing, a real page-turner. Great for fans of private eyes, dark fantasy, or urban noir. Great even if those aren't your usual cup of tea.