The story is about an alien species whose mothership becomes stranded over South Africa due to the crumlbing of their leadership ranks. Perhaps it was illness, dissension, or abandonment, the people of Africa just don’t know, but what they do know is it’s there. After months of trying to get into the ship, they finally succeed by drilling a hole into its side where they find the refugee aliens sick and dying from starvation and malnourishment. Because they are “worker-bees” they don’t seem to have the ability to think for themselves or be able to work the equipment.

A government agency is formed to handle the species and quarantine them into concentration-camp like slums not unlike the Korean work camps of the US. Despair follows and tensions mount over two decades as clashes between the aliens and humans drive the government to create new camps farther away from civilization for the aliens.

The real story takes place when the eviction move occurs and one simple, underestimated man becomes the salvation for the aliens through a hapless discovery.  He finds himself torn between the world he once knew and the one he was destined for. Sounds campy, right? It’s anything but. Tense moments, high emotions, and the basic human instinct to survive in an ugly ruthless manner make it almost look like the aliens possess more humanity than we do.

There’s more than just a physical transformation of Wicus, the pasty, office-dwelling, insignificant man bullied by his father-in-law who is the director of his department. He realizes that doing things right doesn’t necessarily mean that doing the right thing.

In the end, one asks just who had delivered who from evil in an action-packed flurry of alien technology, corrupt governments, cruel slums and abandonment.

The setting is World War II and mostly in Germany-occupied France. With lush backgrounds and detailed costumes it’s a beautiful cinematographic treat. Even better is the great acting, punchy comic relief, quirky cameos (Mike Meyers), and righteous motivations all mixed into the brutality and lack of humanity a war brings out in most civilizations.

There are some moments that are so deliciously suspenseful, I found myself holding my breath in the theater. Especially the scene in the basement bar where a clandestine rendezvous is complicated by the thick presence of German soldiers and officers—not exactly the prime spot for plotting the Third Reich’s downfall.

Just when you think things are going to go one way, Tarantino jerks the rug out from under you. You just don’t know how it’s going to end until it does.

The parallel plot lines that twist into a nice, explosive fuse on a dynamite story have us thinking we want the director’s cut when it’s released on DVD.  Forget what you learned in the history books here, folks. Tarantino rewrites it for us, the way it should have been.

Lisa Gardner's new book, The Neighbor, is an interesting, fast-paced suspense thriller that had even me scratching my head until the end when it neatly all came together. The slow unfolding of the story, the quiet reveal of the characters, the witty pace between points of view--which I love--and the "woah!" moments at the end were brilliantly pieced together by a master story-teller who never flinches from the grit. It was unpredictable and compelling, a refreshing change in the summer reading I've had as of late.

We're given insight, almost like a diary, from the point of view of the victim. The voice of this character was strong and had me wanting to read more. The person of interest in her disappearance is her husband, someone who is doing everything but cooperating with authorities to help find her. His motivation is only because he wants to protect his daughter. From what, we don't know, but only makes me want more to find out. Ree, the four-year-old daughter in question is cute, adorable, and precocious--an important piece to the puzzle as the story begins to unfurl with delicious suspense. But even more compelling is the husband. Who he is, not who people think he is, is the most important piece of the puzzle--and nothing is what it seems to be in the book.

I'm surprised with the lack of backstory that's necessary for a reader picking up this book without ever having read a Lisa Gardner book to understand who the husband is. You MUST read Say Goodbye before you read this book to have a greater appreciation of the characters and their internal monologues.

It also brings to question time line. At the end of Say Goodbye, the husband in The Neighbor is only 12 or 14 years-old. It seems to have been written in present time, but in The Neighbor, the reader must fast-forward 15-17 years for his current age. I don't know about you, but many things may change in that amount of time (technology, the real-life settings, etc), but it is written in "present-day". This makes it distracting a hard for me to suspend my disbelief.

Aside from that it bears the unsavory people, the realistic relationship dramas, the burden of family and defining happiness as it dissects human nature and post traumatic stress disorders that we see in every day goings on. The plot twists are unpredictable and the strong characters have you empathizing with even the most horrible of offenders.

Skin Trade is the newest Laurrel K Hamilton novel in the Anita Blake series. Vampire serial killer Vittorio returns, laying a trap for Anita by luring her to Vegas--his newest crime scene. All the big names are called to wrangle in the unruly mass murderer whose body count now includes local cops. Edward and Olaf as well as Bernardo help Anita who is on her own from her St. Louis camp, much to the disappointment of Jean Claude, and a refreshing change from his oppressive tediousness.

The story starts out remeniscent of Obsidian Butterfly, especially with the interactions with Edward, who we are starting to see in a more human light. While it's a little different, it's a welcome change. Hints of Edward's hunter side bleed through in moments of curiosity, but his "love", if you can call a cold blooded killer capable of such, for Anita becomes a strong anchor she desperately needs. And Edward seems welcome to give it. Perhaps being a married man with children, even though it's a facade to his family, has changed him for the better.

Olaf also becomes an interesting spice in the bloody burrito that is Skin Trade. It seems Anita is capable of taming even the most feral of beasts, Olaf, a human serial killer whose victim profile is too much like Anita to be comfortable for anyone involved. Olaf makes a concerted effort to bridge a gap between his serial killer pin-up, Anita the Executioner, to win her over. At moments it provides much needed comedic relief, in others, it delivers a serious and well doneick-punch to the gut.

Most interesting in Skin Trade is the evolution of practioners in urban SWAT teams, and Anita's thoughts pinging on the idea of retirement or changing careers. It becomes an undulating conflict that ebbs and flows, but something I can see becoming a bigger issue down the road. Especially since she has said aloud, as well as in her thoughts, she's tired of being held prisoner by the ardeur. Thank you, because we're tired of it too. I was very happy to see more story and character development in this book--something that has been lacking over the last 6 books in the series.

The story flowed well with intense interactions and the gritty unapologetic and realistic crime scenes, but what I found clunky and constricting was LKH's, or perhaps Anita's, constant over-acting to prove herself to a bunch of men. Working in a male dominated field myself, I know how dismissed females can be, however, we have evolved significantly in this world--and with the series. If Anita's reputation precedes herself as much as it is portrayed (for the good and the bad), I don't feel 100 pages need to be dedicated to her constantly showing she can run with the boys.

The ending, I felt, was very poignant, only it was overshadowed with too much of the ardeur returning, and it became anticlimactic. It felt rushed when there was so much more that could have been done to end it with the usual Edward and Anita bang from the earlier books. But I felt like LKH wanted to skip over it all (battles with the Jinn, more magic use from Rocco and Anita, etc., the raid on the rogue witch's house) to get to the sick fantasies of a vampire and of course, more sex scenes.

I felt cheated and it dragged down the importance of what the SWAT relationships meant, the strengthening of the tiger clans that were involved, , Anita's "level up", the meaning behind Max and Bibiana's survival and what it meant for another Master's human servant to do save them (since Vampire politics are so huge in this series) and, the biggest bang of them all with the alleged death of what all vampires feared--The Mother of Darkness. I think that in itself would have been a nice book in the series that would allow LKH to clean house with all of Anita's baggage. And, give Edward a chance to feel as dangerous as he doubts himself to be anymore--especially since it came up as a turning point in the book.

Needless to say I was disappointed in the ending, many questions were left unanswered and it ended without tying up loose ends (something also quintessential, strangely, for this series).

And I still don't know why the book was called Skin Trade. Unless it had to do with the holy water scars of the afflicted vampires, or maybe how Vittorio could hide his identity as the Father of Day.

Skin Trade started out with so much promise, but failed miserably.

 There's really no holding back from here on out. Neeson's character as a father on a mission to rescue his daughter from black-market sex slave trading leaves no thug un-beaten, no consipiracy unturned, andno building intact. A gritty thriller that allows the audience a peak at a dark underworld where virginity gets the highest price and human collaterol is left in its unapologetic wake, Taken is a neat package of adrenaline and drama.

Four out of Five Stars!

The Rachel Morgan saga continues! I was looking forward to this book because, despite my recent disappointment with the direction of the series plot, the idea of the Hollows world, its originality, relatable characters, and fantastic imagery alight my imagination and enthrall me with intricate twists Kim Harrison weaves. We learn much more about what happened to Kisten and the role Rachel played in his death, however anticlimactic and unimportant the perpetrator is. I was hoping that, with Harrison’s prowess at throwing bombshells this would open up another underlying forewarning of a bigger plot yet to come, but it was not to be. Instead, the reasons behind seems solely for the punishment of Ivy, Rachel’s live-in vamp and fellow runner, so that she can further become a tortured soul.

Speaking of souls, I do believe there was a bit of foreshadowing on just how Rachel may be able to save the vampire race’s souls after death so that they don’t become living instinctual animals, a mere shadow of their selves. It makes sense that, because of Rachel’s high-profile demon-dealing has gotten her shunned, thusly excommunicating her from her witchy world and family, however the reason Harrison has done this (transparently) worry me. Cutting Rachel off from everyone who makes her who she is (including Marshal), it would appear the only person she has left to lean on is Ivy. Which, many of her audience wishes to see a same-sex relationship with her, and that to me is very perturbing. That shouldn’t take precedence, but feels like it’s going to be more of a storyline than it should be. The theme of this story was being alone, and now she is truly utterly alone.

Another curve ball that seemed like after-thought fabricated back story for Rachel was the appearance of ghost named Pierce. And, because of his complete unattainability, he is extremely “Rachel-ly”. I know. I was disappointed too. When we emotionally invested so much into Marshal, and for him to completely walk away from her due to being shunned was a bit of a head-scratcher. The way Harrison had portrayed him, Marshal seemed to have more depth than that – and understanding. But, Harrison seemed to think he was now an inconvenience, so snip! Just like she did to Nick, only Nick was an interesting plot twist.

While I still love the idea of new Inderlander breeds, the beauty of the Hollows and its people, the plots seem to become quite predictable, as are the actions of the characters despite the plot twists thrown in. I also enjoy how Harrison isn’t afraid to bring death into the mix. She’ll kill of characters when things get thick – just like in real life – no one is magically saved and there is no reset button. In bad situations there is collateral damage. I’m glad she’s not afraid to do that, it’s just the ulterior motives behind the scenes I worry about. I’m curious to see where it’s going to go from here. I just hope Harrison doesn’t sacrifice her wide-eyed naïve protagonist who can kick some serious butt for the sake of satisfying her audience begging for something better suited for a Laurel K Hamilton book.