Chris Loury is the THATest THAT guy I've ever met, and it's PERFECT. Entirely self-absorbed without being self-aware about it, a casually terrible friend, subtly convinced he's smarter than whoever's in front of him, refers to women as their hair color, would probably describe himself "morally relatively-uncomfortable," somehow both entitled AND enjoys playing the victim--of his circumstances, of other people, of God, of his own self.
And he does it all so relatably that, instead of hating him, you stare at the pages like "Oh no. I AM THIS CHRIS." And all you want out of life is to go through this journey with him.
The writing is great and sucked me in from the get go. Found myself thinking about it while doing other things. Overall, it's a fun read with something for everyone. Humor and peril, humanity and the paranormal; and where it could have easily stayed shallow and light, it's not afraid to be challenging and take you deep.
I could write an absolute SONNET about Finch. I won't. But I could.
Anyway. Consider this my formal request for a sequel.