January Reading to Date

I always begin the year by rereading something I know I like and something that strikes the kind of emotional note I wouldn't mind the rest of the year following, and Black River, by S. M. Hulse, kicked off 2018. This is a quiet novel about a former corrections officer, the fine motor movements of his hands effectively destroyed by torture during a prison riot, returning to his hometown after his wife's death for an awkward reunion with his stepson (their relationship fell apart, not surprisingly, when the kid pulled a gun on him) and a moral dilemma about whether or not to testify at the parole hearing of the man who ruined his life. Wes, our protagonist, used to be an exceptional fiddle player, and music was a huge part of how he experienced the world; by taking away his ability to play, he feels like the man who hurt him also took away his best form of connecting with the world and the people around him. His anger and pain are understandable, but a huge part of the novel is about Wes struggling with holding onto that--and holding onto the judgments he's made about all the people even tangentially involved in it--or letting go. It's really beautifully written and melancholy without being despairing.

Then, for something completely different, I read Leader Lion, by Zoe Chant, because I love shifter romances and backstage shenanigans. Rafa is a lion shifter and bodyguard hired by his ex-wife (good friends but nothing more, they were married for about a day after a weird night in Vegas), who is working on a struggling-to-get-off-the-ground musical about Mars (would watch) that keeps suffering from mysterious accidents and mishaps. Rafa is there to protect Paris, ostensibly, but he immediately finds himself drawn to the charming, incredibly competent stage manager, Grace, whom he recognizes at once as his mate. This is frothy and fun without being at all insubstantial. All the insider theatrical details are exactly my jam, the emotions run high and believable, and also there is a hot man who turns into a lion. This also kicked off a romance surge for me, so I downloaded ten Harlequins onto my Kindle from the e-library and then turned off my wifi so I can hoard them. I am not a good person.

But I haven't gotten to them yet, because instead, I read Ruth Rendell's The Best Man to Die, because her Wexford novels are comfort reading for me: structurally, they're sort of like Golden Age mysteries but with a lot of realistic tarnish around the edges. They're loaded up with fully developed, well-textured characters and lots of believable complications, so they give you the fun of puzzles while also giving you the fun of a novel. This one also has a frankly adorable bit of hurt/comfort in it involving Wexford being stuck in an elevator.