Thank you to Netgalley and Thomas & Mercer for providing an uncorrected digital proof of this book for review purposes.
First off, it must be said that Livia Lone is the polar opposite of an easy read. This is dark, grim, unpleasant stuff that nightmares are made of. I was initially turned off by the somewhat ridiculous title - the alliterative "lone wolf" reference, I thought, seemed somewhat contrived. As a reader, I like to be shown that a badass female protagonist is a badass female protagonist, not told that she is before I even begin my reading journey. Initial feelings aside, I was interested to delve into this one as the description seemed so unlike anything else I've read this year.
This book is divided into two portions, the "then" and the "now." In the "now," we begin with a mysterious young woman taking care of business - approached in a bar by a man determined to get what he wants by any means necessary (sex, of course), the night progresses quickly and furiously until he's alone with a blonde woman who kills him in self-defense. The blonde woman, of course, is not at all blonde Livia Lone, detective by day, something of a caped crusader for sexual assault victims by night.
In the "then," we learn that Livia, along with her younger sister, her "Little Bird," as she fondly refers to her, was trafficked from rural Thailand in her youth, sold into human slavery by desperate parents. The flashbacks to that period of time are brutal and vivid, not for the faint-hearted. Livia, called Labee at the time, is a tender 13 years of age, and her sister Nasan is just 11. Over the course of their hellacious journey, both girls are repeatedly assaulted (in great detail) by their captors, despite Labee's numerous desperate attempts to protect Nasan from harm.
The end of the journey provides no sense of relief, either. Despite the shipment being busted by law enforcement, there's no light at the end of the tunnel for Labee. Her Little Bird is missing, no one's able to find her, and Labee finds herself in a situation every bit as vile and terrible as her journey. In this sense, the flashbacks serve as a sort of origin story for the fearless avenger that Livia becomes.
In the present, Livia Lone is still fruitlessly searching for her sister, bringing sexual offenders to justice, and making up for the myriad shortcomings of justice in her own way, something of a vigilante (there were times I pictured her as a more realistic female Batman, as she struggles to keep her emotions in check, connect the dots, and exorcise the demons of her past).
There's a nervous energy that infuses the entire narrative, but the problem is that it never really feels like white-knuckled fear. Like a Marvel superhero, it feels like nothing can take down the impervious Livia. I want to root for her as a protagonist, because she's likable enough and has fought for everything she has and every breath she takes, but with her jiu jitsu background and "getaway bike" she's more or less built herself, it's always obvious that Eisler's lady detective is going to be safe, however many obstacles await her.
That predictability makes it challenging to thoroughly engage, and some of the twists are just as predictable. It's difficult to buy that Livia Lone, brilliantly deducing detective, wouldn't have managed to connect more of the pieces sooner, and sometimes it's frustrating because it feels like there's nothing to her other than her suffering. But overall, flaws aside, I enjoyed this character, the story felt unique, and if there was another installment in the future, I'd be interested to see where things went.