by Wendy Hawkin | Oct 3, 2019 | Book Review
I once read Hemingway’s Islands in the Stream aloud in a tent, by flashlight, to a friend. There is something about Scott’s long poetically complex sentences, lyrical phrasing, and island scenes that cast me back there as I read this book. There’s a mess of sailing jargon, but a reader can get the gist even if you don’t know your “winged out mizzen” from your “foresail” or your “genoa” (81). There is also a good deal of alcohol consumed by our intrepid captain, Jared Kane and his Haida sidekick, Danny Maclean.
Perhaps, years of rocking through white-crested waves as a sailor and navigating literature as a librarian, combined to produce this effect. Scott’s writing is, at times, intoxicating. He’s been compared to Joseph Conrad, and I’ll go one further. I flashed on William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, not just in the language, but in the brutal events that befall the captain and crew of Arrow.
The plot is simple. Kane and Maclean are lounging around the North Island in New Zealand with their ugly dog — tanning, drinking, fishing, and tending to chores — when Laura Kennedy asks to charter Arrow. The reluctant hero declines. But then his sailboat is rifled by ex-marine, Lord Barclay Summers. When Jared meets Laura again, she admits that Summers is searching for journals that point to treasure — five million pounds in gold. It seems, the Boussole left France in 1787 containing three treasure chests, Laperouse’s share of the family estate. The Count may have escaped the French Revolution, but his ship floundered somewhere near Fiji and was never seen again. And so the quest begins.
Joseph, a one-hundred-year-old Haida elder, lends a touch of mysticism to the story when he joins the party of adventurers. His dreams of sixteen-foot sharks and poisonous sea snakes buffet the Arrow to her eventual destination. Pursued by Summers in Captain Robin Waverly’s Golden Dragon, the Arrow sails for Fiji. The crew’s feast in traditional Fijian villages and the dive scenes are vivid. Using a hookah — air tubes connected to a raft — rather than tanks, Kane and Kennedy explore the more shallow reefs: “… tiny triggerfish and wrasse near the surface, the ubiquitous parrotfish farther down, and on the bottom, coral trout and groupers, edging out from beneath the reefs for a quick look before vanishing again with a flick of the tail” (202). But what seems like paradise quickly turns lethal.
A subplot is the mad love story played out by two tragically-flawed characters. Their love reef is beautiful, and nothing like the lagoon they wind up in, which is something from another planet. An evil planet. Waverly, Summers, and their band of mercenaries are sadistic villains, whose lust for treasure and violence drives the back half of the book.
Though a sequel to Arrow’s Flight (2018), this was my first dive into Joel Scott’s nautical thrillers. I will definitely go back and read the adventures of Jared Kane and Danny Maclean. I once thought I might like to learn to sail, but now I’m not so sure.
As reviewed in The Ottawa Review of Books, September 2019
by Wendy Hawkin | Jun 23, 2019 | Book Review, Canadian writers, urban fantasy
I haven’t posted much lately because I’ve been binge-reading Kelley Armstrong’s Cainsville series. I’m impressed. I decided to try it, as I love her Rockton series and I had the chance to meet her at Creative Ink in March. This series is exciting and devilish and very clever. It’s also the closest series I’ve read to my own Hollystone Mysteries. Elements are similar. We’re definitely in the realm of sexy urban fantasy with a twist of murder. It’s also mythic and arises from Celtic folklore. Faeries. Where I write of the Irish Sidhe (shee), Kelley writes of the Welsh Tylwyth Teg, the Cŵn Annwn, and something called the Sluagh. Same powerful and mysterious Celtic beings. Two different islands.
Right off the top, let me say that the one thing lacking is a Pronunciation Guide. It’s frustrating having to guess at the proper way to say a Gaelic word, even in your mind. Welsh is as tricksy as the fae. The author mentions that Cŵn Annwn is sounded as Coon Anoon, but as for the others, I know my inner voice is mispronouncing. In Book 5, when the Sluagh appear, I thought it could have been pronounced slow or slew with a silent gh, but no. The word is apparently spoken as sloo-ah. (I had to google it.) I’ve been pronouncing Tylwyth Teg as till-oo-ith teg. I know that w creates an oo sound. But that might be wrong too. Thus, the need for a guide.
Two of these fae factions have their own kings. For the Cŵn Annwn, it’s Arawn, King of the Underworld. He presides over spectral hounds and directs The Wild Hunt. Gwynn ap Nudd is King of the Tylwyth Teg AKA King of Faerie. These are creatures associated with the Welsh Mabinogion tales and early Arthurian legends.
The spooky town is brilliant. Cainsville. Located just outside Chicago, Illinois, it’s in seemingly sleepy small town America. Most people know the biblical story of Cain and Abel, who were the first two sons of Adam and Eve. Cain, the farmer, and Abel, the shepherd, both made sacrifices. God favored Abel’s and rejected Cain’s. Jealous and bitter, Cain killed his brother and was then cast out. Apparently, he made it as far as Cainsville. If you’ve read Beowulf, you’ll know that Cain is the father of all monsters, including Grendel, the beast our Anglo-Saxon superhero comes to slay. Since the Beowulf poet was Christian, those monsters involved anything pagan, including faeries. In Irish myth, the fey have been called “fallen angels”—they who fell from God’s grace along with Satan. Knowing this, opens up the series and the town to all kinds of shenanigans.
In Book 1 (Omens) we are introduced to Olivia Taylor-Jones (born as Eden Larsen.) She’s a heroic misfit like all of Kelley Armstrong’s leads. A strong woman with mystical skills because, of course, she has fey blood. Almost all the characters are fey in some way. Liv sees and interprets omens. As Liv, it’s hard to sympathize with her. She’s grown up pampered and proud in a wealthy Chicago family, studied Ivy League Victorian literature, specializing in Sherlock Holmes, and has a mansion and a mother to return to when she’s done slumming it in Cainsville. The twist is, Olivia began life as Eden Larsen. When her serial-killer parents were convicted for ritually murdering four couples, little Eden was adopted by the Taylor-Jones. In Omens, Liv’s secret is exposed and she becomes fixated on learning the truth. Are my parents really serial killers or were they framed? This thread weaves through all five books.
To uncover the truth, Liv connects with the handsome attorney who defended her parents. If he wasn’t so emotionally stunted, she’d be sleeping with him in Book 1. Like his namesake, Gabriel Walsh, is indeed Olivia’s angel. And, one can only hope, her someday lover. Walsh (which is Irish for those fellas from Wales) is an intellectual white-collar bad boy and self-made man, whose mother was an abusive drug addict.
Just to stir the pot, in Omens, Kelley throws in two other potential mates for Olivia. Young Ricky Gallagher, heir to the Satan’s Saints motorcycle gang, and James Morgan. James is a man of Olivia’s class, a politician who has her life as a senate wife all mapped out. Fortunately, she’s far too edgy for that life and knows it. She’s more interested in the blond, leathered biker.
Omens is tame. In Visions, Olivia takes a ride on Ricky’s motorcycle and … Well, it’s “grass, gas, or ass.” The sex scenes are inventive. When I met Kelley Armstrong, I thought, “Wow. She wrote those sex scenes!” Then I look at myself and wonder how many people think the same thing about me. Sex is an expectation of the Urban Fantasy genre and Kelley writes it well. Very well.
I liked the story in Book 2 (Visions) but I’ll be honest. I skimmed the descriptions of Olivia’s visions. Not because the writing was bad. It’s not. Kelley Armstrong is a fantastic writer. But the visions are so horrific and vivid—reminiscent of Stephen King—I didn’t want them in my head, especially at bedtime.
In Book 3 (Deceptions) the story deepens as the old Welsh rivalry between raven-haired Gwynn ap Nudd and the golden boy Arawn is revealed. They both love Mathilda. But who will she choose? This question forms one of the major series questions. Arawn is Ricky Gallagher, thundering the highways on his motorcycle rather than through the fields on his horse. Still he’s on the hunt. Naturally, Gabriel is Gwynn—dark, mysterious, grave. Both are willing to do anything for Mathilda, our Olivia. The author clearly explains that these characters are not reincarnations. They do not follow a fated pattern, and they have free will.
SPOILER: In the myth, Mathilda chooses Gwynn and the couple betray Arawn. But not so here. In Visions, Olivia chooses Ricky Gallagher and by Deceptions, she is officially his girlfriend, having been to the clubhouse and been somewhat accepted by Ricky’s father. Still, she has moments where she dreams of being with Gabriel. Ah, the old love triangle arises.
A second major story question revolves around Olivia’s birth parents: Todd and Pamela Larsen. Did they really ritually kill four couples, and if so, why? In Omens, Gabriel and Olivia solve one of the crimes. So that leaves six murders still unaccounted for. In Deceptions, we discover more about Todd and Pamela, possible motives, triggers, and liaisons, and a new story emerges about Eden Larsen AKA Olivia Taylor-Jones.
This series is addictive because of all the unanswered questions. Kelley Armstrong is clever with the cliffhangers and even more clever at weaving action and emotion.
The fourth book is Betrayals. This one really stopped me in my tracks. More horrific visions involving the savage murder of young fae girls. I couldn’t handle it. I wanted to read every word but I just couldn’t do it. I’m very visual and I found it too graphic. I ended up skimming most of this book because I just wanted to know who Olivia chose … Ricky or Gabriel? Because by then I’d decided who I wanted her to choose. It’s a hard choice for the reader. Ricky and Gabriel are two very different men from two very different worlds, but both are handsome knights who’d give their life for their beloved.
I read every word of Book 5 (Rituals). Kelley does an amazing job of tying everything up in this, the final book. The addition of the third fey strain—the horrid unforgiveable Sluagh, who steal souls and turn them into blood-crazed birds—really ups the stakes.
Was I satisfied with the ending? Yes. Was everything explained? Yes. This is an epic series: part horror, part romance, and all thriller. I hope it gets optioned for the screen.
by Wendy Hawkin | Jun 9, 2019 | Book Review
Cross-genre novels present the best of diverse worlds. In Mahoney’s Camaro, Michael J. Clark offers a tongue-in-cheek paranormal mystery guaranteed to make you smile.
To begin with, the story is set in 1985 Winnipeg. Laced with street-talk, the odd bit of casual sex, and the necessary obscenities, it comes with an Eighties soundtrack that will have you humming along with the car radio. Time travel back to the days of video store rentals, Beta and VHS cassettes, Consumer’s Distributing outlets, answering machines, and Sony Walkmans.
Clark also offers readers a window into the genesis of crack-cocaine which is just blowing in from the United States and is hitting the Winnipeg streets. It’s killing people who are unprepared for the shift in quality and turning recreational users into addicts. At the same time, business people who’ve been using pagers are being romanced by the notion of a cellular phone. How amazing would it be if you could make a sale on the go, rather than wait till you’re back at the office to make that callback?
But Clark’s real niche lies in his intricate knowledge of the automotive industry. He began his career by winning national awards for writing and photography in automotive journalism. Mahoney’s Camaro is a book that car guys and gals will adore. Well-peppered with allusions to makes, models, and years, any vintage enthusiast will be able to cruise along beside Mahoney with visions of cars in their head.
The book is plot-driven. There’s no complex character development—just a pack of car hounds who’ll keep you smiling.
Steve Mahoney is a nice guy—the kind of guy who’ll help you out and be glad to do it—a mechanic and tow-truck driver who pulls night shifts in “Unit 36 . . . the oldest member of the Hook Me Up Towing company fleet . . . a ’73 Chevrolet C30 chassis cab.” He lives on fast food and little sleep and finds his girlfriend while picking up a lock-out.
When he’s called out to the Red River to retrieve a submerged Camaro, Mahoney discovers a body inside—a woman handcuffed to the wheel. The police assume it’s a suicide so our hero takes the car off to be cleaned. Later, he discovers the story might not be so simple. You see, Mahoney needs spare parts to rebuild his damaged ’67 Camaro and this haul is perfect. He outbids another buyer at a salvage auction, pays $1200 for the cleaned-up purple Camaro, and gets his vehicle back on the street. The only problem is, his new Hot Rod comes with its own ghost. Heather Price.
Paranormal writers all present ghosts in their own unique way. Heather knows she’s deceased, though she’s sketchy on the why and how of it. She can make the Camaro do things. Communicate through the radio. Inspire terrifying visions. Appear in several guises including a shimmering spectre with kaleidoscope eyes and floating hair and, conversely, the corpse Mahoney pulled out of the Red River. Our hero’s not the only person who can see her, and her appearances incite mixed reactions. The woman just wants to go home. If Mahoney can solve the riddle behind her untimely demise and see justice served, perhaps he’ll get his car back. Then his girlfriend won’t be so jealous.
Mahoney’s Camaro is a quick, fun read, perfect for summer travel. You might find yourself vehicle-gazing on the highway, or hitting a vintage car rally. Fans who enjoy reading Dietrich Kalteis, A.J. Devlin, and Ron Corbett will want to join the joyride.
As published in the Ottawa Review of Books, June 2019
by Wendy Hawkin | Apr 7, 2019 | Book Review, Canadian writers, murder mystery
Photo from radish fiction.com
I had the pleasure of meeting Kelley Armstrong last weekend at Creative Ink. She is one of the most talented and generous writers I’ve met yet. I learned so much in her three-hour master class that I’m still considering. The discussion there actually prompted a complete revision of the next book I’m writing. In a good way. I also went to a panel she joined on “Elevator Pitches” — sell your book in the time it takes to travel between floors. I wrote one for the book I’m currently working on and pitched it to her when we met for our “blue pencil” appointment. She took out one word and liked the rest. When she read the first scene of my draft, she gave me nothing but positive comments and solid suggestions for how to improve. This is what a writer needs.
I started reading her “Cainsville” series two weeks ago and am surprised by similarities between it and my Hollystone mysteries series. Both are urban fantasy. Both are murder mystery. Both are written for adults—she writes some seriously edgy scenes! Both feature faeries and Celtic myth. I started with Book Two, so now I must go back and read Book One. They’re written as stand-alone novels, so I had no problem following along. I’m just hooked now and want to know more. I want to see how the characters progress from beginning to end.
My review of Kelley’s latest Rockton book appeared last week in the Ottawa Review of Books. You can click the link or read it here.
Who is The Watcher in the Woods?
Book Four in Kelley Armstrong’s Casey Duncan crime series follows fresh on the heels of Book Three; in fact, it’s so fresh the bodies are still decomposing in the woods. Without divulging too many spoilers, one of the men who pursued the serial killer in the last story is shot in the back. A bullet is lodged near Kenny’s spine and there are no surgeons in Rockton—just a butcher who was once a psychiatrist.
Intent on saving Kenny’s life, Detective Casey Duncan and Sheriff Eric Dalton fly secretly to Vancouver to appeal to the best neurosurgeon they know: Casey’s older sister. They must sneak her into town for security reasons. Of course, in a town the size of Rockton, it’s hard to sneak anybody anywhere. The introduction of April as a major character opens up Casey’s family history and peels more layers from her backstory. But the sisters’ relationship is tenuous as April is about as gifted and gregarious as “House.”
Rockton is a town built on secrets. Imagine living in a place in the middle of the Yukon wilderness. A place that is not on a map or visible by plane or satellite or hooked up to the Internet. A place hidden from the world. Imagine that everyone who lives there, all two hundred of you, have been brought here for a reason. Refuge. You’re either a victim of crime or a criminal yourself. The butcher may have murdered his entire family. The madam who runs the bordello may have ripped off the elderly for their life savings. Your neighbour may have been a hit man for the mob. It’s an idyllic prison, of sorts. Even our fearless detective is hiding out for a reason: she is a killer. Not a “line of duty” kind of killer—a “woman who went looking for a man with a gun in her pocket” kind of killer.
Into that mix, throw a man who claims to be a U.S. Federal Marshal in search of a fugitive. Let him track down the hidden town, watch from the woods, then come in bold-faced and search among the townspeople for his target. Idealism turns to chaos. Everyone is certain the marshal is there to drag him or her back to face justice. The marshal claims the person he is seeking appears normal but is criminally insane—a description that fits several of Rockton’s residents. But he won’t reveal who he’s hunting. Now, what would happen if the marshal was found murdered? If indeed he is a marshal. How difficult would it be to determine who shot him?
With a police force of three, a volunteer militia, and an unreliable council who deals out its own brand of justice, anything can happen. In the previous book, the leader of the council was removed. I won’t tell you how that happened. But, the new leader is adversarial and just as sketchy as his predecessor.
The romantic sub-plot takes a back seat in this book. Now that Casey and Eric have settled into their relationship, Casey focuses on protecting her newly-adopted town from itself. She suspects everyone of murdering the U.S. Marshal, except her boyfriend. Even her estranged sister, who appeared in Rockton at the same time as the man, is suspect.
And then there are the hostiles—residents who’ve left Rockton to take up residence in the wilderness. Intriguing and terrifying, these shadow-creatures are something between reavers and zombies. With just a hint of humanity, they appear when least expected. In this book, Armstrong throws in a delicious twist that makes us wonder how they evolved—or rather devolved. Fodder for another sequel? Please.
Armstrong’s clean, tight, present-tense narration propels this crime thriller through rock-strewn paths to the big reveal. With a town like Rockton, and so much more to learn about Casey Duncan and her partner, Eric Dalton, this series could go on indefinitely.
from the Ottawa Review of Books, March 2019
by Wendy Hawkin | Mar 22, 2019 | Book Review, murder mystery
I’ve been a Shetland fan for the last few years and have watched all three seasons on Netflix (multiple times) but I’d never read any of Ann Cleeves’ novels.
I chose Thin Air (which is book five in the Shetland series and not on Canadian Netflix) mainly because it was available at my library, and it was in paperback. I like paperbacks best. They are lighter to read in bed.
The woman’s writing blew me away. Reading Ann Cleeves is like being wrapped in a silky merino wool blanket. I can see why there is a cue of holds for her novels. I couldn’t wait to snuggle down in my bed every night and immerse my mind in her comforting prose by the light of my pink salt lamp. I don’t know exactly what it is about her style that affects me so much. Perhaps, it’s the detail.
I’m going to assume that, like me, Ann Cleeves is quite visual. She paints pictures so true-to-life, I feel like I can see what she is seeing in her mind, and what our hero, Jimmy Perez, is seeing in his. As a detective, Perez is a keen observer. He’s not romantic and flowery, (though he’s certainly charming and loveable) but he’s genuinely interested and his mind is always spinning around the murder case. In this passage, he goes to London to speak with the victim’s mother:
She led him into a wide hallway. The walls had been painted a deep green and there were pictures everywhere. The art was unfamiliar. Some looked like prints of cave paintings, scratched images of animals and birds. Primitive, but also amazingly lifelike. There were photos of strange dwellings growing out of hillsides, a collage made from scraps of woven cloth and two large abstract oils. He would have liked to spend more time with them, but she’d already moved on and had settled on the windowsill in a room that seemed half-sitting room and half-study. There was a desk and the walls were hidden by bookshelves. In one corner an armchair was covered with a batik throw and next to it stood a coffee table made from animal hide. There was a glass on the table and Perez thought that she’d been sitting here when he’d phoned the night before. Now she was framed by the window, so she looked like a piece of art herself. The background was a small courtyard garden, where the sun had been trapped by a brick wall. In the corner stood a tree covered in pink blooms in a pot.
Naturally there is a murder. Two, in fact. And a tie that binds the victims. There is also sea, shifting fog, ferries, and stone cottages. And most importantly, a legendary ghost. Peery Lizzie. A ten-year-old girl who got lost in the fog and drowned in the flooding tide in the 1920s. Was it murder or an accident? Was Peery Lizzie lured to her death? And how is she connected to our recent victims? However she succumbed, it is the ghost of Peery Lizzie who helps our detectives unravel the murder.
Because no one ever really disappears into thin air. Do they?
by Wendy Hawkin | Mar 5, 2019 | Book Review
This is no Throw Momma from the Train. These are high school kids in their senior year, messing with each other in ways only Eileen Cook can imagine. More psychological thriller than black comedy, it’s perhaps spawned by the 1951 Hitchcockian thriller Strangers on a Train—two strangers who agree to exchange murders so neither can be connected to the victim.
We could call this book “Strangers on a Plane.” Nicki, the charming British psychopath meets Kim Maher in the Vancouver airport when their London flight is delayed several hours. Kim is beginning a sixteen-day “Student Scholars for Change” program, along with several strangers and a boy named Connor who’s just dumped her. Kim is devastated, but she’s come along on the trip, regardless. From the outset, Connor is the boy you love to hate, as we watch him carry on with Miriam, his new love interest.
Written in first person and viewed entirely through Kim’s eyes, it’s feasible she might get drunk with a manipulative stranger and share her personal problems. She hasn’t connected with anyone else in the group. She’s lonely and vulnerable. She might even write a list of reasons, with Nicki’s prompting, called WHY I HATE CONNOR O’REILLY and cap it with AND WHY HE DESERVES TO DIE. And when, through a vodka haze, Kim hears Nicki’s tragic tale—parents divorced, an abusive alcoholic mother who won’t let her live with her father in Vancouver—she might even agree that Nicki’s mother deserves to die too.
The girls bond over their woeful stories, but it’s clear that the older, more worldly, Nicki is in control from the outset. She’s already goaded Kim into stealing a bottle of vodka from the duty-free shop. After the night of drinking and sharing on the plane, Kim awakens alone and hung over, wondering what happened. Nicki’s gone, but she’s got the list that details why Connor should die, along with her own list. Kim has drunkenly agreed that the concept of murdering for each other is pure genius though she’s stated she is no killer. Everyone contemplates killing a nasty ex, don’t they? Maybe even a mean, drunken mother? It was all just talk, wasn’t it?
After landing in Heathrow, the students find their rather dodgy lodgings in South Kensington. Part travelogue, with a scattering of historical references, Cook’s detailed, sensory descriptions of London and her tongue-in-cheek humour backdrop the text. Kim’s room is “like an attic you’d find in a Charlotte Bronte novel, one where you kept a crazy relative.” Little does Kim know that by the end of the novel, she’ll be questioning her own sanity.
Soon after arrival, the students pair off and Kim finds herself with Alex, a boy so nice, so innocent, I immediately suspect him of something heinous. Is he working with Nicki, a subtle plant? Kim finds the innocent, supportive, highly allergic Alex irresistible, and he’s appeared just at the right time. Distracted by Alex and the possibility of true love, Kim forgets about Nicki and their drunken hyperbolic rant on the plane until she glimpses her at the Tower of London. Though Kim charges after her, the ever-elusive Nicki slips into the crowd and disappears.
Then Connor makes a fatal error. At the chaotic South Kensington tube station, he confronts Kim about Alex. “If you’re dating him just to make me jealous, there’s no point.” The conversation ends in a flurry of obscenities and seconds later, someone jumps in front of the train. Kim sees the blue Nike sneaker. Connor. But did he jump or was he pushed? Why would he jump? Is it possible that Nicki murdered Connor? Pushed him in front of the train at the last second and disappeared into the chaos? Kim wrestles with the guilt of all the horrible things she’s said about him, and then the games begin.
“You owe me a murder,” states Nicki. What will it take for Kim to pay up?
Eileen Cook is a trickster. Nothing is what it seems. Unravelling the truth from the appearance of truth is one of her specialities. Cook won the John Spray Mystery Award for The Hanging Girl in 2018. Her psychological thrillers may feature teenage characters, but their actions are mature and calculated.
Injected with subtle wit, coloured by shades of Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train, You Owe Me a Murder, will keep you awake and guessing right until the end.
Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, March 2019
As reviewed in the Ottawa Review of Books, March 2019
