In the interest of full disclosure I have to start with a note: I'm so sick of vampires that I'm considering going full Van Helsing on the next person who even recommends a freakin' vamp story to me. Old style Van Helsing too; not pretty, Hugh Jackson in a floppy hat Van Helsing. I'm talking head chopping, mouth stuffed with garlic, burned up at sunrise. I need another vampire book in my life like I need to test drive a late model AMC Gremlin. At this point, anything I read that is going to have vampires in it better have something brand-spanking new about it: vampire bunnies that shoot lasers out of their eyes, a mamma vampire who throws her babies like ninja stars, a vampire colony on Mars that's terrified of an alien invasion from Earth mutants. (Hm. I kinda like that last one....)
This book has vampires, and while there are some tweaks, they don't transform into monkeys or wear power armor, so it's going to annoy me right off the bat. It didn't START with vampires, though, so when the hints of their existence began coming in, my reaction was to roll my eyes, and by the time they actually became a major feature I was close to calling it a day. To me, vampires make everything worse because they are so cliche that I just don't want to bother. If you're not done with vampires, then you'll probably have a better reaction than I did.
Other than vampires, where this book stands out is in Ms. Richardson's strong, and even elegant prose. Upon occasion she goes a bit overboard and dips into strangely clausal sentences, but for the most part her prose and vocabulary have a distinct and entertaining flair. Apparently, some readers have felt she uses too many "SAT words" but I found that vocabulary apt and referential to certain noir detective stories. A comparison to Hammett or Chandler is high praise--but not unwarranted.
The world building is solid and interesting, if a little abrupt. What I mean by that is that there are several "mentor scenes" in which the dynamics of the world are explained more or less in exposition outright. The protagonist doesn't "discover" the world, but is guided through it, meaning the reader gets it as a sort of instruction manual. The idea of a world behind the world we live in isn't particularly new, but Ms. Richardson does have a flavourful take on it, and her version of the spirit world accompanies her prose in an effective, descriptive way. Getting that information expressly in lectures and monologues rather than having the lead experience it herself is more often than not a missed opportunity.
The physical structure of the book is sometimes a bit odd. Chapter breaks occur in the middle of the action, while more natural breaks are sometimes ignored. So, some chapters are quite short while others quite long, making the book as a whole sometimes feel terse and at other times meandering. This isn't really a problem with the plotting, however, but with the book's physical layout, which makes for a sometimes strange reading experience. I can't say if that was entirely intentional on the author's part, but I have noticed several big names doing something quite similar, and having a lot of success with it. The books themselves don't differ significantly from earlier books in terms of plot and pacing, but the chapter breaks just appear in strange places... so it seems to be something of a writer/editor/publisher thing.
There are three storylines going on in this book; the heroic journey/discovery of the Grey by the protagonist, a vampire/missing persons case, and a search for a lost artifact. For the most part, they interact smoothly, though on occasion the transition is a bit jarring. Waking up next to her lover (part of the heroic journey storyline) after having had a particularly devastating interaction with a vampire (the vampire/missing persons storyline) was a little awkward. The comments/reviews I've seen from other readers have expressed some concern with elements of consent in that sequence, but it really just read as a jump cut in the plot to me. However, most books can't manage two storylines with any particular depth. Given that there are three storylines going on here, and all three are pretty involved, I think we can overlook a single stutter.
The action sequences read particularly well, especially the opening sequence in which the protagonist, Harper, is assaulted, dies for two minutes and is brought back to life, now with the ability to see into The Grey. (That's not a spoiler--this is chapter 1) Ms. Richardson captured several elements of that sequence that are apt for a female leading character (in particular, getting her hair caught in the elevator) that might not occur to a male writer. Tapping into that creates an interesting level of anxiety that I think many male readers might find surprising and female readers particularly pointed. For some reason, "death by ponytail" is more horrifying to the fairer sex, where being killed by one's coif just isn't an issue for we tripods. It likely has to do with our relationships with our respective hair care professionals, and the looming specter of male pattern baldness....
I did find it a little strange how often people did things for free. A nightclub bouncer just calls her up and gives her information for no compensation; a widow digs through files for old receipts (who keeps that kind of thing?) make copies of them (widows have Xerox machines in their homes, I guess) and gives her cups of coffee because she's lonely, apparently; paranormal experts/scholars are just waiting around for the chance to help her out with her whole existential crisis--and they feed her home made pie. That ability does move the plot along, but it would have seemed more likely had she glad handed a few folks.
Personally, I found the love interest more obligatory than anything else. Most of the secondary characters had distinct, interesting personalities, even the minor ones. I got more of a feel for the character and personality of Harper's pet ferret, Chaos, than I did for Will. Tall, white haired and a knowledge of antiques doesn't really set my panties on fire, but I guess that may be why I prefer boxers. Your mileage may vary.
I like that Harper is not a kick-ass-and-take-names-later, hard-boiled super-hero cum detective. Two guys bust into her office, and she calls the cops. Nice. A little action sequence is good from time to time, but similarly it's interesting to get the opposite.
With those things in mind, this is an early novel for Ms. Richardson, so there are a few problematic sequences and story dynamics. For instance, I had some trouble with what I call "the metasuspension of disbelief." That's the moment when the characters of an urban fantasy see through the "real world" into the supernatural aspect of the world they inhabit. In that moment, the reader must be able to accept that supernatural aspect right along with the characters, but also must be able to believe that the characters can believe it. In this case, Harper's struggle isn't so much with the reality of the situation, but whether she's going to accept being on her hero's journey (as Joseph Campbell would say.) She has little problem with the idea that there's a whole world existing as an alternate dimension parallel to our own, even though that's the kind of information that would put most folks in a padded room right next to the Joker. Instead, she just doesn't want to deal with it. Rather than "I can't believe it" we get "I don't wanna." That isn't a great reaction to getting a glimpse behind the curtain at the fundamental nature of the universe. That section read as either very rushed or a pat, obligatory interaction meant to tick the "Refusal of the Call" box for the Monomyth. (Campbell again... sorry for the academia.)
Meeting a real life vampire is similarly a fizzle. And it's a fizzle for everybody. Her instant friends are cool with letting a classic monster archetype into their house--a house with a newborn baby in it, mind you, which seems like the kind of thing social services would get involved in: "Do you have any dogs, exotic pets, or blood-sucking murderous undead monsters in the house? Oh, yes, those kinds of things are sometimes child welfare and safety hazards. Yes, yes, I know, I love dogs too...."
Instead, they're fine with it, even though they don't know enough about that kind of thing not to offer him some pie. They just assume that if the ghost that lives in the house (a sort of silent guard/messenger/pet) is cool with the vamp then it's all good. "Here's some tea, you can stay in our basement." Really? Later, we get an explanation (their house is on a sort of magical nexus and protected by wards) but--again--they weren't real clear on how vampires eat, and he's a twitchy, shaky, unpredictable newly undead, so where's the new parent angst? No second thoughts at all about the vampire in a house with your child? I've seen mommies and daddies be more concerned about the style of bottles they're going to use.
Overall, I can recommend this book if you're looking for something relatively light, AND not sick to death of vampires. I'll happily give it a star for the writing and another for the complexity of the plot. I can't really go more than that for a vampire book in the 21st century, but I'll readily admit that's something of a foible, so ignore it at your discretion.