I’ve had this in my TBR pile for about a year now and I feel an idiot for leaving it so damned long. I don’t believe in favourites, but The Immortal Body is one of the best books I’ve had the pleasure to read this past year. Aside from the fact it ended, I can’t think of anything wrong with it. From the botched faith healing opening, in which Holloway sets the tone with grimy characters, all caught up in a supernatural eeriness that incorporates their various flaws into the story. From the first page, the whirlwind of weirdness blows stronger with each page and I found myself in love with book from the get go.
Mitchell, the lead detective investigating a series of murders following a bloody faith healing is a fat alcoholic burnout with a wry quip or two up his dirty sleeves. Despite his foibles, you root for Mitchell, the reader knows as much as he does and each twist and turn is taken with Mitchell careering in the front seat. You want to hold on to him, you want him to live and make himself a better person once this is all over.
Psychic medium Sarah Lynn Beauchamp is much a hero as Mitchell as her own narrative takes off in similarly bloody circumstances. Following a séance in which she literally raises the dead, the more you discover about her the more you want to care for her. She encompasses both flawed heroine and buxom damsel so perfectly you can’t help but love her smart mouth and zest for life despite all that’s been thrown at her.
Menard is a admirable old war hero that doesn’t take any guff from anyone; cantankerous, spry and with more than an ounce of charm, if Ian McKellen doesn’t play him in the film version of this then there’s no justice in this world.
Thaddeus Johnson, our demon raising faith healer, is again, equally flawed and fascinating. Bestowed with a gift that he’s mostly squandered, using the talent as a meal ticket to keep him high. Tragic and funny, I hungered for more back story with him as much as the other characters.
Each of the characters soon link up as the dark murders continue to plague the authorities, more bodies pile and the mystery surrounding them grows deeper, yet more satisfying with each bloodletting. To say any more would ruin surprises for the reader, but fans of serial killers, zombies, monsters or even the Cthulhu mythos of H.P. Lovecraft will be more than pleased at the horror on show. Holloway has built a gruesome world here; a world you want to believe in, but wouldn’t want to live in. His writing is smart and fast, without being a show-off. The terror he induces made me shiver, so much so I even considered the thought of giving up writing so I could hug my children more. It’s that good. What Holloway conjures, unsettles the reader yet remains a remarkably easy read. Tableaus of gore are created; Holloway does a marvellous trick of showing the characters gut churning reactions, without going into too much detail. As Holloway describes it, the murder scenes can’t be contained within the characters imagination.
Psycho’s on the run, un-killable undead, deranged crack whores, a sexy psychic, a slobbish cop you can’t help but love, buckets of blood and bones, and visions so terrifying the characters can only sleep in the daylight. This is a strong start for a debut novel, and apparently there’s more to come from this series. I can’t wait. More, more, more!