I really need to stop believing the blurbs on books. I have to follow my gut when it comes to what occupies my time. I believed the blurbs for the chick that wrote Heartsick (Chelsea somebody) and poopooed the bad review from Entertainment Weekly about Stephen L Carter’s door wedges er books, sacrificing hours I won’t get back.
Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.
The Blade Itself is the debut novel of Marcus Sakey. The first ten chapters, I was engrossed, ready to eschew my normal routine of mind numbing television so I could jump into the gritty side of Chicago and murderous intent.
Then, Sakey decided to get formulaic.
He’s compared to Elmore Leonard, Dennis Lehane, and George Pelicanos.
Danny Carter is a reformed criminal who has his past come knocking at his door in the guise of Evan. Seven years ago, the two pulled a robbery at a pawn shop which went horribly wrong and Evan took the fall. Now Evan has returned and is looking for payback. Danny’s back is against the wall and he decides to go one last time to repay his friend.
The makings of a decent thriller? NOT.
It was a breezy read, but predictable.
When I decide to invest time in a book, I want a book that will keep me occupied. Sleeping Beauty goes for escapist fiction, The Teen loses herself in the angst of teen romcom, and The Boy prefers talking animals who solve crimes.
This was not a book to shout out about.
Let’s just say I was all too pleased to return this to the library.