Here was this elegant old woman chatting amiably to a brother she'd poisoned almost 40 years before.

[oddmonster]

# 73: Dance of Death by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child:

D'Agosta followed Pendergast into Penn Station, which--disgracefully--consisted of little more than an escalator entrance in the shadow of Madison Square Garden. It was a quiet evening, a Tuesday of no consequence, and at such a late hour, the area was almost deserted, save for a few

Comments

[jaye_valentine]

I am so pleased to see this review. Preston and Child are always authors I list in my top ten of favorites (much to the dismay of my snobbish "literary" friends), although I much prefer the Preston/Child collaborations over their solo works. The only exception to that is Lincoln Child's Utopia, which is just a damn fun cotton-candy read.

[oddmonster]

I've really enjoyed this series immensely. I was a bit disappointed by parts of Brimstone, which I wrote about here, but overall, this series just continues to give and give.

Have you read Child's Deep Storm, by any chance? If so, what did you think of it?

[jaye_valentine]

Yeah, I hated it, even though I read it in one sitting. I swear, those guys are like crack for me. The book had a fun concept, and as usual there was just the right amount of science detail without it reading like a technical manual, but the book crumpled under the weight of the protagonist's massive ego. There was a lot more wrong than that but it's been a while since I read it, and that's what I recall off the top of my head.

[oddmonster]

Yeah, I hated it, even though I read it in one sitting.

That was almost exactly my reaction. I kept sitting there rolling my eyes and going, "No. No. OMG no no arrrgh!" But I couldn't actually stop reading it. There needs to be a word for that kind of thing.