When I read the first of the Sam Pope books I enjoyed it despite the many editing errors. It was a lively, reasonably tense and fast paced read with the main character’s flaws and psychological challenges adding a good mix of danger and angst.
The second book in the series retained those good features but repetition from the first book, by way of explanations into Sam Pope’s recent past became slightly irritating. The editing was even worse than the first book, with spelling mistakes, poor grammar and at one point a totally unexplained scene which left me wondering if a page or two had been left out completely. But I plodded on because the story was good and the characters basically believable.
Things came to a head though as I ploughed doggedly through the third book, now becoming irritated by the numerous editing errors and bored by the constant reruns of what had happened in the previous two books. Then came the final straw at around two thirds of the way through when one of the main characters, a tough and battle hardened large, black law enforcer came out with the phrase, ‘Well, slap my sausage!’ Really? In the middle of a torture room where he finds an acquaintance unconscious, having been water boarded, with most of his fingers broken, and bleeding out from a bullet hole in his knee, the best he can manage is ‘Slap my sausage!’ Then in his following statement he uses the word ‘fuck.’ It was like something from a Carry On film. I closed the book at that point and I shall not be continuing with the series.