Books

The Grand Canyon arc in the first half is the real draw here — Atlee working out of a small bureau in the southwest with little more than her assistant and her wits makes for a compelling setup. The relationship between them is one of the book's genuine strengths, even if it strains believability in spots. Then again, maybe Atlee is an unreliable narrator — something worth sitting with. The Park Ranger relationship gets fair page time but doesn't seem to go anywhere meaningful, and I'm honestly not sure what role it's supposed to play going forward. The "Mercy" thread — the one the title's hanging on — stumbles to a halt without a real payoff. I get that it's being seeded for the long game across the series, but landing on it for the first time felt like a letdown rather than a hook. Stronger first half than second.

Solid read. There's a reliable rule of thumb with mysteries: when all the evidence seems to point one direction to every other character, but a different direction to the protagonist, you can be pretty confident that some key details are still missing. The book plays that card well. Travis Devine is likable enough as a protagonist — a little rough around the edges in a way that works. The roommates felt underdeveloped, which is a missed opportunity given how much page time they get. The ending has a multi-layered twist that I think would play really well on screen — the whole book has a cinematic feel to it, almost like it was written with an adaptation in mind. As far as I know this is a standalone, but the world and the character have enough room to grow into something more. Wouldn't complain if Baldacci revisited them.

A fitting conclusion. A cow isn't always a cow, and things aren't always what they seem — that about sums up the spirit of this one. As I got closer to the end I had that same sinking feeling from the first book: there is no way he's wrapping this up with the pages I have left. But he did it. A satisfying payoff for all the major characters, even if some of them get a bittersweet version of it. The short chapter format is a double-edged sword as always — the danger is that "just one more chapter" becomes a very expensive promise, and suddenly the book is done and it's 1am. There's a major catalyzing event from Nash Falls that carries over into this one, and Baldacci handles it well. The Stockholm syndrome-like dynamic from the first book doesn't seem so bad in the end. Without that thread, I don't think this one would have hit as hard. Another action-packed Walter Nash ride.

I didn't realize this was book one of a series going in — and by about halfway through, I was looking at the page count thinking there was absolutely no way he was going to wrap this up. And he didn't. Full cliffhanger. I need closure. That said, it earned every one of those five stars. Nonstop action, every single page. Nash himself goes through a genuine transformation over the course of the book, and while the way other characters react to it strains believability a little, that's kind of a Baldacci thing and you learn to roll with it. The character work on Nash is the real standout — you actually care about this guy and the mess he's found himself in. The sequel thankfully dropped earlier this year, so at least I don't have to wait. Hoping Nash can scratch out something resembling a happy ending.

My wife picked this up as part of a blind date with a book at a used store, and once she saw what it was, she passed it off to me. It started as a pretty solid read; it kept me turning pages, hoping the main character would eventually wake up to what was happening around him. Unfortunately, it didn't finish as one. The problem is, there's almost no one to root for. Every character is flawed to the point of eye-rolling, Paulette being the one exception. The ending is where it really lost me. One scene near the finish had me singing the Cell Block Tango from Chicago in my head, because he absolutely had it coming. But instead of a payoff, the whole thing just sort of stops. A client who essentially set the entire story in motion disappears without any resolution, which stuck with me more than it probably should have. Nobody really grows, nobody really learns anything. I closed it with a quiet "Hmph."

Obi-Wan Kenobi has always been my favorite Star Wars character, so when I spotted this at 2nd and Charles for next to nothing, it was a no-brainer. Only my second Star Wars novel, not counting comics. It reads young, closer to early Harry Potter than adult sci-fi, but that didn't slow me down. It's fun watching Obi-Wan before he became the Jedi master we know: shaky on confidence, not yet fully surrendered to the Force, but still unmistakably him. The highlight is an unexpected prequel-era cameo that fills in a gap the films never addressed. Easy read, and exactly what I wanted it to be.

Frantic from the first chapter and it barely lets up. The premise (humanity's disruption of the natural world triggering a coordinated, global animal uprising) sounds pulpy, but Patterson and Ledwidge anchor it in science that's plausible enough to keep you from rolling your eyes. The short chapters are a feature, not a flaw; they keep the momentum cranked. The ending goes somewhere you probably won't predict, and that alone earns the half-star bump. Reactions from governments and civilians feel reasonably grounded too. That said, a few details pulled me out: Marines don't say "Sarge" — that's an Army thing — and K Rations were phased out decades before this story takes place. For a writer of Patterson's experience and with a full editing team, those are avoidable. Minor gripes on an otherwise hard-to-put-down read.

The historical scaffolding is the best part: Khoury weaves in chapters set in the Crusades era that do real work grounding the present-day thriller in something that feels lived-in. The characters are likeable enough, and the story moves. The villain's radicalization is genuinely the most compelling arc in the book; his motivations track, even if how far he ultimately goes strains credibility. The romance, though, is aggressively tropey. The brilliant, beautiful, uniquely single atheist archaeologist and the brooding, quiet Christian FBI agent could not be more telegraphed if they tried. And the ending just stops rather than lands, which is ultimately why this stays at three stars instead of four.

Made the rookie mistake of jumping straight from book 1 to book 20-something because the latest was on sale. Surprisingly easy to catch up — Berry actually pulls from earlier installments and includes excerpts so new readers aren't left stranded. There's a twist that's more telegraphed than surprising in hindsight, but the ride getting there is solid. A genuinely good entry point if you want action-packed thriller in an established world without committing to a two-decade backlog.

Robert Langdon continues to save the world, one crisis at a time.

Didn't realize going in that this is a series. Now I have to track down the next two. Body-snatching spirits, murdered royals, a Hunger Games-style competition to take down the king from the inside. The premise is familiar but it moves fast enough that you don't care, and a few late twists actually land. Solid start.

Found this one searching for books similar to the Robert Langdon series. Stars Cotton Malone, a former spy turned bookstore owner who has relocated from the US to Europe, and who gets conveniently drawn back into his old lifestyle because, of course, he alone can resolve the situation. Familiar formula, but it works. A solid series starter for fans of historical conspiracy thrillers.

A wayward priest thinks he's getting a promotion. Turns out he's been appointed head of a ragtag group of misfit super-powered mystical deviants, pulled together in a Suicide Squad-style team to thanklessly save the world. My first Abercrombie, and it's opened up a whole new world of literature. If you like dark fantasy with sharp wit and morally complicated characters, start here.

Worth every page. It spans multiple decades and never telegraphs where it's going; character fates especially go places you won't predict and mostly stick the landing. The concept is unlike anything I've read, and the dragon earns its place in a way I can't explain without spoiling it. A lot of fiction settles into predictability by the halfway point; this one doesn't. Also didn't realize until after that Joe Hill is Stephen King's son. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Picked this up straight after Devils; couldn't resist more Abercrombie. Starts with a disjointed cast that spends most of the first half separated and doing their own thing, which gets confusing as it bounces between POVs. Stick with it: once the characters finally converge the story starts to build real momentum. Being the first in a trilogy, the ending doesn't deliver a satisfying payoff on its own, but it's clearly setting up something much bigger.

The modern-day counterparts to Arthurian legends are genuinely well done; whoever you think these characters map to, the choices mostly land. The concept is inventive enough that you'll want more of it, which is also the main frustration: Merlin and the other Arthurs are interesting enough to carry their own stories, and the book doesn't give them nearly enough page time. Clearly building toward something bigger. Worth starting.