94 books like City Primeval

This book leans a bit more toward the literary fiction category than do most books I read these days, but it’s among my top five because of two elements it develops, and poignantly so: 1) the constant threat of death for not only the narrator but also others he knows, and 2) a love story.

And the love story, much as it got to me emotionally, never once struck me as sappy. Instead, it was very realistic. Very human. Very no-b.s. As a result, altogether, this novel offers terrific storytelling.

Much as I enjoyed the film based on this novella by Stephen King (which I now understand is a standalone book—I read it as part of a story collection long ago), I enjoyed the novella more.

Why? Because of its extraordinarily likeable narrative voice, which has caused people worldwide to find themselves rooting for its narrator. How can you not want to know what’ll happen next to someone so candid and down-to-earth—who has experienced homicide and love so intensely? Especially when he wants intimacy yet also feels threatened by it.

In fact, just after I finished reading the Shawshank novella, I vowed to write a novel about someone in NYC who exuded those same attributes: candor, humility, and understated yet solid wisdom about murder and affairs of the heart. And after several years of writing with this goal, I finally tapped into the voice of Matt Connell, the narrator of… show more.

In this case, I saw the film before I read the book, and if I’m going to call myself an honest man, I’d have to say I enjoyed the film more than the book.

Still, the book struck me as a great read because it embraced and portrayed the extraordinary amount of tension an undercover agent deals with 24/7. I mean, when you’re trying to make an arrest undercover, you’re two people at the same time, but you’d better not mess up and let anyone know you are or it’s game over—and very probably, bang-bang, pal, you’re history.

Add to that being undercover for the FBI and you’re guaranteed a high-stakes conundrum. Which is to say, after reading this book, how could I not have had my book’s character working undercover for what he and his partner Jonas refer to as “the Bureau”?

I’ve been a fan of Sandford’s detective Lucas Davenport for a long time. He’s wicked smart, with a dark side that loves to come out and play occasionally. The way he orchestrates his use of the news media, and the department is uncommon. But the bureaucratic nonsense is starting to wear thin. And it’s getting in the way of Davenport’s passion for catching killers. When a friend of his daughter runs into trouble, he reluctantly jumps into the case, even though it takes him out of Minnesota and into the wilderness of Wisconsin and Michigan.

Davenport is the ultimate badass. He does whatever it takes to bring a case to closure and for justice to be served.

I love the way Parker weaves a bit of legend into this story about a modern-day version of Robin Hood running wild through Los Angeles. Allison Murietta may be following in the footsteps of her ancestors, stealing from whoever strikes her fancy, and giving the spoils to charity. The action is fast-paced.

This is the first Charlie Hood mystery and Parker does a wonderful job, bringing the rookie detective along. The interactions between Hood and Murietta are perfect. There’s plenty of action to draw the reader in, and more twists than I expected.

I’ve always enjoyed mysteries, especially police procedural stories. Harry Bosch is the kind of detective that you want to root for. During his lengthy career, Bosch followed the motto that ‘everybody counts or nobody counts.’ That approach speaks volumes to me, especially when writing my own stories.

Investigating a cold case homicide requires turning over all the evidence, digging into the interviews, and developing new theories and suspects. This is dramatically different from a ‘fresh’ case, where there can be pressure from multiple directions to find the guilty party and bring them to justice quickly.

I like Connelly’s style and have read every one of his books that I can get my hands on. Bosch ruffles feathers, but gets it done!

When it comes to private detectives, Elvis Cole is my favorite. He’s got the combination of wit, intelligence, and experience that others strive for but often fall short. Pair him with Joe Pike and you’ve got an unbeatable combination.  

I really enjoy how Pike is more inclined to let his actions do the talking, while Cole is the voice telling the tale. This latest book includes the return of Lucy, Cole’s longtime lady friend, who helps smooth out his rough edges.

Crais paints a great landscape, where Elvis and Joe run through the Los Angeles area. This is a great example of how what looks like a simple case can easily be far more complicated. 

Ever since I read this haunting book, I haven’t been able to shake the memory. Its Ozark Mountain setting is incredibly well-rendered, mostly via trailer-dwelling characters scrabbling to survive. In this community, vulnerable girls have gone missing, and young Lucy Dane is trying to work out why.

There are entrancing, regular tales of hunting, gathering, and cooking (one character has a popular recipe for squirrel dumplings). This made the story feel so authentic and tangible, lending even more fear and credence to the disturbing crimes that take place.

A powerful, riveting, and unputdownable tale of three women from different eras (Civil War to present) that frames the issue of race relations within the context of family relationships, making the subject immensely relatable and deeply touching. Bartels spins this masterful tale with a deft touch and a caring heart to create a stunning debut. Because the characters were so vivid and the emotions so real, this book opened my eyes in new ways to an issue that remains a hot button in today’s society.

Nature takes on different meanings in the landscape of the post-industrial city. On a city block in the middle of a shrinking city, the return of green space can signify abandonment, disinvestment, and decay instead of healing, flourishing, or balance. Cialdella brings much needed nuance and historical context to the place of nature in postindustrial Detroit, providing a wider range of stories about the ways in which gardens and green, from the wide expanse of Belle Isle to urban potato patches and backyard sunflowers, have helped connect communities to the city and each other. Nature in the city doesn’t replace people; it helps them flourish.