With the word “evil” in it’s title, you KNOW I’d be drawn to Chelsea Cain’s novel, Evil at Heart. (Insert evil laugh here.)
And it’s pretty good. I mean, I’m not a fuddy-duddy book critic who’s going to sit and pontificate over whether or not the writing style is magnificent. It’s a freaking serial-killer novel, not Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. The writing style is, however, unerringly readable, even for the stoniest bloke who has trouble counting to those higher numbers, like say 25. There aren’t a lot of giant words that will have you reaching for your dictionary, but it’s not exactly see-spot-run material. There’s not a lot of technical jargon coming out of the mouths of the detectives, and it’s not a boring procedural that would fare better as a T.V. show a la Bones or CSI.
The plot, which I’ll review in very few words so I don’t ruin it: A detective on the hunt for a serial killer falls under the spell of a psychologist moonlighting as, duh, the serial killer. She’s beautiful, and the press eats it up as a the classic femme fatale story. Except, oh wait, after they nabbed her as she was in the midst of torturing the detective, turns out she may or may not have an accomplice who’s come out of the wood work years later. Oh sh!t, cue the mind tricks and sexual tension between everyone’s sad-sappy lead detective and his ex-obsession-turned-obsessor-cum-new-informant. You guessed it, the very same femme fatale who ruined his life.
I happen to have a signed copy laying around in the library back home in good ol’ California, but all of you can probably find it for cheap on Amazon—or free in your local library.
It’s a readable novel that will give you just enough of a mindf!ck to make you question a passersby on the street who does things like offer you candy and tries to force you into their shady looking van, but not enough to give you any real nightmares. Which is such a relief. The real world has enough of that, right?
Evil at Heart. Chelsea Cain. Awarded 3 stars by moi for it’s simple style. Not five for it’s overplayed plot. A worthy read for when you’re in the bath.
