Week Two: Orphan X

Finished a book on Day One of this year, (even though Google thinks I'm in America I guess) so had loads of time to start/complete another one and I fiddled about with Springsteen and Atwood but then picked this up which a good friend had suggested (though I never take suggestions) and started it 3 days ago.

And it is everything I hate about thrillers and thriller writers yet I liked it and it gripped me more than enough to race through it by the weekend.

So it does the usual thing of having a mystery loner who is super-humanly trained by special forces for wet-work and can recognise the make model and the shop that a gun was sold in by the way a person is walking when it's holstered. The usual OMG he's so cool bullshit that peppers these books.

But I couldn't put it down. It was cliched,  obvious and yet compelling. The fingerprints of a brand obsessed author with a less than funny acerbic 'wit' that comes spewing sarcastically out of people who even barely speak English dot the landscape with machine gun carelessness.

But I still invested and read it all.

In 3 days.

So I'll stop bitching...

In a minute. WTF is with mystery and thriller writers who are so fucking obsessed with showing off their intimate knowledge of 'high end' (expensive and ridiculous) brands? Guns, beds, cars and alcohol? It irritates me.

Now I'll stop.

Way better than I Am Pilgrim - a book in the same fantasy vein.

Recommended in spite of my rant.