Blog Archives
Wreaking Vengeance
I read Wreaking Vengeance as a hard-edged police procedural that begins with a savage decapitation on a Chicago bike path and then widens into a methodical investigation involving wealth, dog-show circles, failed romances, and, eventually, a revenge plot. Joe Erickson and his partner Sam Renaldo work the case in the classic detective mode, interviews, forensics, false leads, gut checks, while the city around them feels specific rather than decorative. The book’s engine is not mystery for mystery’s sake so much as the slow, stubborn assembly of motive from scattered human damage.
What held me was the novel’s refusal to prettify violence while also refusing to wallow in it. The opening is grisly, but the book’s real texture comes from the contrast between brutality and ordinary life: dinners at home, dog care, office banter, long drives, the weary choreography of homicide work. I liked that balance. It gives the investigation a lived-in grain. Joe, in particular, comes across as competent without becoming stainless; he is steady, observant, sometimes wry, and recognizably tired in the way good detectives often are. The procedural detail has an old-school sturdiness to it, and I found that solidity more persuasive than flash would have been.
I also appreciated the way the novel keeps re-tilting suspicion. It moves through wealthy ex-lovers, professional grudges, family tension, and forensic fragments without feeling mechanically twisty. The dog-breeding and Affenpinscher material could have become gimmickry, but instead it gives the book an odd little signature, a slightly off-center domain of expertise that makes the case feel particular. The prose sometimes favors directness over flourish; still, that plainspokenness suits the book’s temperament. This is not a baroque thriller. It is a workmanlike, sinewed mystery that knows the difference between momentum and noise.
I’d hand Wreaking Vengeance to readers who like crime fiction, police procedural, detective mystery, serial-killer suspense, and investigative thriller novels with a strong case file backbone and a likable central detective. It should especially suit readers who enjoy the procedural patience of Michael Connelly, though Johanson’s tone is less lacquered and more blunt-force Midwestern. I came away thinking this book understands that the most unsettling crimes are not the loudest ones, but the ones pursued with calm, human persistence.
Pages: 281 | ASIN : B0FQZSVFDK
Reflections in the Dark: A Horror-Noir
Jason Garman’s Reflections in the Dark is a horror-noir that treats reality like a crime scene and every mirror like a witness that knows more than it should. The book opens on ideas of consciousness, reflection, and fractured identity, then threads those ideas through a story that moves between police procedural, cosmic nightmare, and grief-soaked character study. Reed Ashland, the burned-out academic drawn toward impossible visions, and Detective Maria Voss, the sharp Chicago homicide detective trying to make sense of ritualistic murders, give the novel its two strongest currents. Together they make the book feel grounded and unstable at the same time, which is exactly the right tension for a story this interested in perception.
The author doesn’t treat the horror as decoration. The horror is the book’s language. It shows up in the imagery, the rhythms of the sentences, and the way ordinary spaces keep turning strange. A bedroom, a precinct, a parking garage, a hospital room, all of them become charged with the sense that something is leaning in from just outside the known world. There’s a line early on, “Reality is a story badly translated from another dimension,” and it works because it feels like a mission statement for the whole novel. That’s the kind of book this is: moody, philosophical, and deeply committed to making disorientation feel intimate rather than abstract.
It’s also a character-driven book, which gives the weirdness some real emotional weight. Reed could’ve been just the classic unraveling visionary, but he’s more damaged and human than that. Maria could’ve been just the hard-edged detective, but she carries fatigue, intelligence, and tenderness in a way that keeps her from ever feeling stock. Even the supporting relationships help round out the novel’s world, especially the glimpses of family life, old love, and accumulated loss. Those parts matter because they keep the book from floating off into pure abstraction. When the story says, “We live inside ambiguity’s prison,” it isn’t only talking about metaphysics. It’s also talking about grief, guilt, and the way people keep moving through lives they don’t fully understand.
The prose is rich, stylized, and often intentionally feverish. Garman clearly loves image-making, and when he’s in rhythm, the book can feel like it’s casting a spell. This is a novel that wants you to sink into its atmosphere more than race through its plot mechanics. The procedural spine is there, and the mystery keeps tightening, but the real pull is the mood of it all: the cracked clocks, the broken mirrors, the recurring 3:33, the sense that language itself is starting to warp. I kept coming back to how confidently the novel blends the hard-boiled and the surreal. It’s not shy about being strange, and that confidence gives it personality.
Reflections in the Dark feels less like a simple whodunit and more like a descent into a worldview, one where identity, memory, and evil keep slipping out of their usual shapes. It’s a book that wants to unsettle you, but it also wants to linger with damaged people trying to make meaning out of what’s happened to them. That combination gives it its own pulse. This is a debut that knows its obsessions and leans into them fully: mirrors, thresholds, sorrow, perception, and the awful possibility that something might be looking back. For readers who like horror with noir bones and a surreal edge, this one has a lot to chew on.
Pages: 288 | ASIN : B0GSLH62NF
Come Dance With Me
Come Dance With Me opens as a late-career detective, Butch Jacs, is called out to what should be a routine suicide involving a businessman tied to the mayor; instead, one small object at the scene, an old business card reading “Come Dance With Me,” pulls him into a strange chain of deaths, vanished records, political rot, and a dread-soaked mystery that seems to be stalking him across decades. The novel begins like a police procedural and gradually lets a spectral chill seep through the seams, using Jacs’s forced retirement, frayed solitude, and distrust of the modern world as part of the plot’s pressure system.
I liked this book most when it lingered in Jacs’s head. He is not a glamorous detective; he is tired, mildly crabby, perceptive in an unshowy way, and haunted less by melodrama than by attrition. That gives the novel a worn texture I found persuasive. The author has a real affection for municipal spaces, bad fluorescent light, empty offices, old neighborhoods, and the spiritual bleakness of public institutions after midnight. Even when the prose grows a little shaggy, it often lands on an image that sticks, something rusted, wind-buffeted, or quietly funereal. I also appreciated the book’s refusal to rush its unease. It doesn’t sprint toward horror; it sidles there, which is harder to do and, here, more effective.
What I really liked was the book’s mood rather than its neatness. The mystery matters, but the stronger current is existential: Jacs is investigating not just a pattern of deaths, but his own obsolescence. The novel understands how retirement, bureaucracy, loneliness, and memory can make a person porous to dread. I did feel the pacing sometimes wanders and the repetition can accumulate, yet even that repetitiousness started to feel oddly thematic, as if Jacs were walking the same mental corridor over and over while the lights flicker. In that sense, the book’s rough edges are part of its atmosphere; it feels less polished than weathered, and weathered suits it.
I’d recommend Come Dance With Me to readers who like supernatural mystery, detective fiction, occult suspense, and small-city noir with a melancholic bend. Readers who enjoy Stephen King when he turns toward aging, memory, and ordinary American dread, or fans of John Connolly’s more haunted detective work, will likely find familiar pleasures here, though Bates is scruffier and more Midwestern in temperament. Come Dance With Me is an intriguing detective novel that knows the scariest thing in the room may be time itself.
Pages: 352 | ASIN : B097NMBL25
Devourer from Beyond
The Devourer from Beyond is a high-octane fusion of supernatural horror, police procedural, and cosmic dread that launches readers straight into the heart of a conspiracy involving ancient evils, cult fanatics, and federal agents caught in a nightmare beyond comprehension. The story begins with a routine flight unraveling into chaos when a monstrous figure unleashes carnage midair, forcing federal air marshals into a fight for survival. From there, the narrative spirals outward to include secret government divisions, a doomsday cult led by a charismatic reverend, and a dark tome recovered from a buried temple in Antarctica that may usher in the end of the world. Told through a series of deeply personal and action-packed perspectives, the book charges forward with little reprieve, culminating in a showdown that blends Lovecraftian horror with gritty realism.
What impressed me most about RK Jack’s writing is how grounded and human the characters feel despite the wildness of the plot. The air marshals, Thomas and James, carry the weight of duty and broken personal lives with them, and their weariness comes through in the smallest moments like sipping burnt coffee, trading tired jokes, and hoping for just one easy day. These little details made the action hit harder when things went sideways. I found myself genuinely caring about them, which is rare in a genre that often sacrifices character for spectacle. The writing itself is clean, direct, and cinematic. Jack has a knack for pacing. He wastes no time, and each chapter ends with that “just one more” pull that kept me flipping pages deep into the night.
Parts of the book made me feel genuinely unsettled in the best way. The cult segments, involving an eerily calm reverend and his silver-tinged disciple, Margret, were creepy and weirdly intimate. The way Jack slowly drips in the supernatural elements made my skin crawl. It’s not just gore or jump-scare horror; it’s this slow-building, stomach-tightening dread. Some of the scenes involving the tome and the summoned creatures had me whispering “nope” under my breath. It reminded me of The Thing meets True Detective with a healthy dose of The X-Files. A few times, I had to pause to sit with the imagery because Jack doesn’t shy away from making it visceral. The only minor note I had was the slight overload of names and acronyms early on, but once I got into the rhythm, the story pulled me in completely.
By the end, I was equal parts thrilled, rattled, and strangely moved. This book isn’t just a horror-thriller, it’s a story about people trying to hang on to sanity and purpose while staring into the abyss. I’d recommend The Devourer from Beyond to anyone who loves smart horror, especially readers who appreciate action mixed with emotional stakes and eerie, cosmic weirdness. If you like your monsters unknowable and your heroes flawed but fierce, you’ll devour this one like I did.
Pages: 302 | ASIN : B0DTP7C561
And Then There Were None
The Spire follows a New York City detective who is put on a high-profile case when four people are found murdered in a luxury penthouse. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The idea stems from the classic Agatha Christie mystery, “And Then There Were None.” The key difference being the setting – not an island but instead, a luxury skyscraper. The idea of a group of strangers being murdered, one by one. However, the concept evolved to more of a howcatchem as opposed to a whodunit. As well, the novel draws from the Jeffrey Epstein case, and is an integral plot element.
What were some of the emotional and moral guidelines you followed when developing your characters?
I like to apply rules to my characters. In this instance, Mike Vogel wasn’t going to use his gun. This directly contradicts the classic American detective story, in which the gun is used to solve most problems. My approach with Mike is from the opposite side.
What was the hardest part about writing a mystery story, where you constantly have to give just enough to keep the mystery alive until the big reveal?
The ending. In any novel, it’s coming up with a satisfying conclusion. This book was no exception. But, with a mystery, it requires something more. The reader themselves must have an opportunity to crack the case. And they expect the detective to solve it. The reader expects the solution to be complex. Not simple. Otherwise, they are let down. Which makes that the most challenging part of the writing process. At least it was for The Spire.
What is the next book that you’re working on, and when can your fans expect it out?
Although The Spire is the first in the Mike Vogel series of novels, the book I’m writing now is a departure from that. It’s titled The Special. The story takes place inside a cargo plane hijacked over the Atlantic. The captain is forced to play a cat and mouse game with the thieves while attempting to take back control of her aircraft. The challenge is being able to maintain momentum for the entire novel, while keeping the setting in mostly one location. It will be available in 2025.
Author Links: GoodReads | Instagram | Website
To find the killer, Mike must use all of his investigative skills and grapple with his own dark secret, while searching for the purported sex tapes of the world’s most powerful men—videos worth killing for—and holding the key to the entire investigation.
Pursued by Talon—a shadowy private intelligence company—with ties to the U.S. government, and perhaps the killer too, Mike must uncover the truth about what happened that night in The Spire.
Once Upon A Crime
Once Upon a Crime by Alan Brenham dives into the complex world of vigilante justice, illuminating the perils of taking the law into one’s own hands. The narrative centers on Madison Chase, a detective entangled not only in a harrowing hunt for a serial killer targeting sexual predators of children but also in a personal custody battle, adding layers to the already intricate plot.
The story unfolds with Madison chasing a serial killer known from the outset as Penny Grimes. This unconventional approach of revealing the killer’s identity early in the story intriguingly shifts the focus from the ‘who’ to the ‘why’ and ‘how,’ pulling readers into a deeper engagement with the narrative. Brenham skillfully balances the revelation of information, providing just enough to propel the story forward while peppering the plot with sufficient twists to maintain suspense. Brenham’s narrative prowess shines as he weaves complex characters and tightly knit plot elements without leaving any loose ends. Detective Chase is portrayed with a blend of professional acumen and personal vulnerability, making her character both compelling and relatable. The addition of her daughter to the storyline does more than just add a personal stake; it enriches the narrative, offering a poignant glimpse into the personal drives that fuel Chase’s professional endeavors.
For aficionados of crime thrillers and readers drawn to stories of justice and ethical dilemmas, Once Upon a Crime offers a gripping, well-paced read. Alan Brenham’s knack for detailed storytelling is evident as he deftly navigates the moral complexities of vigilante justice, making this book a notable addition to the genre.
Pages: 301 | ASIN : B0CJLXT8ZW
Sins Revealed: A Joe Erickson Mystery
Detective Joe Erickson, a dedicated officer with the Chicago Police Department, confronts yet another challenging case in Lynn-Steven Johanson’s latest novel. Tasked with investigating a potential crime scene involving a burned pickup truck and two charred bodies, Erickson and his team delve into a mystery fraught with intrigue and danger. As suspicions of murder arise, Erickson’s meticulous approach uncovers a tangled web of relationships and secrets. The discovery of the victims’ identities, Gina Whitmore and Perry Gardiner leads to revelations about their unconventional lives and involvement in illicit activities. With each twist and turn, Johanson skillfully constructs a narrative that keeps readers on the edge of their seats.
Johanson’s background as a playwright shines through in the narrative’s depth and complexity. The thematic richness of the novel, exploring themes of friendship, betrayal, love, and substance abuse, adds layers of intrigue to the gripping plot. The attention to detail displayed by Erickson and his fellow officers underscores their commitment to justice, making for a compelling read. Among the cast of characters, Detective Joe Erickson emerges as a standout, his blend of people skills and compassion endearing him to readers. Gina Whitmore, with her enigmatic persona, adds an element of mystery to the story, her complexities unraveling gradually as the plot unfolds. The impeccable character development, coupled with the novel’s captivating storyline, ensures that readers are fully immersed in the world Johanson has created.
Johanson’s crime novel, Sins Revealed: A Joe Erickson Mystery, is a thrilling and thought-provoking read. It skillfully weaves together suspense, drama, and human emotion. For aficionados of the genre, this book is a must-read.
Pages: 271 | ASIN : B0CV7KSNYN
The Spire
Set against the backdrop of New York City’s contrasting landscapes, Shaun Goldsmith’s The Spire delves into the dichotomy of a metropolis that is both a tourist’s paradise and a locale with a darker, hidden side. The narrative follows veteran detective Mike Vogel as he navigates through the complexities of a double homicide in The Spire, a symbol of affluence in Midtown Manhattan. Characterized by his formidable ego, Vogel faces a convoluted case teeming with an abundance of suspects, pushing his detective skills to their limits.
Goldsmith’s writing style is notably brisk and impactful, characterized by straightforward sentences that convey a certain ‘too-cool-for-school’ attitude commonly found in notable works of the cops-and-robbers narrative. The influence of revered authors such as Elmore Leonard and Raymond Chandler is palpable, with Goldsmith even paying direct homage to Chandler in his writing. The protagonist, Mike Vogel, is a quintessential detective figure whose personal life is overshadowed by his dedication to solving crimes. This portrayal taps into a recurring theme in detective literature: the transformation of a detective’s persona, often towards cynicism, due to the nature of their profession. Vogel’s character may ring familiar to avid readers of the genre, yet his journey remains engaging.
The Spire excels in its gradual narrative build-up, with the plot intensifying progressively. As readers explore the upper tiers of New York’s social strata and delve into the city’s underbelly, it becomes clear that the mystery surrounding the Spire murders may not conclude with a definitive resolution. However, this aspect does not detract from the novel’s appeal. Instead, the journey alongside Mike Vogel, an intriguing and dynamic character, becomes the focal point of Goldsmith’s storytelling.
The Spire offers an immersive experience into the life and mind of a dedicated detective while painting a vivid picture of New York City’s multifaceted character. Goldsmith skillfully delivers a narrative that is as much about the intriguing protagonist as it is about the unfolding mystery, making it a captivating read for fans of the genre.
Pages: 369 | ASIN : B0CVFY99DG
