Book Review: Whiskey Sour by J.A. Konrath
There are times, in reading, when you just have to mix it up. I mean, I want to read "serious" fiction (Castle in the Forest, The Road, and, to some extent, Wicked) but it's just so hard on the eyes. So I must express the joy of reading a book in one sitting. J.A. Konrath's Whiskey Sour is that book. It's just the jagged stab of nastiness I needed after the migraine inducing dissection of metaphoric political blah-blah-blah in Wicked.
Jack (short for Jacqueline) Daniels is exactly the kind of snappy bitch you'd love to hang with, and the killer, The Gingerbread Man, is a real nasty f**ker–and I mean that in a naughty literal way. Jack's partner, Benedict is a compulsive overeater (who isn't? food IS love and we all know it) and no straight man to her sarcasm. That's right! Two–count 'em–two smart asses in one book. Imagine the possibilities. The writing is spare, minimal and all about the tone.
The titular cocktail is Jack's mode of self-soothing. I'm assuming from Konrath's next books in the series, that Lieutenant Daniels is a fickle lush, or just experimental–hasn't settled on her signature drink.
The book was fun and f**ked up. I chose to read it after perusing an insane rant on Konrath's website. The reader called his book, "filthy." I was sold right there. Who wouldn't be?
Next Book: The Road by Cormac McCarthy