Pickles & Scarpetta | Top 6 Favorite Kay Scarpetta Cases

Ever just look at your bookshelves, spot a series, and find yourself talking to yourself about your love for it?  For five or so minutes, you’re left using your memories to trace and calculate your way through the events that took place in each entry.  You’re throwing your thoughts back to each book’s conclusion and resolution.  You recall your favorite scenes, characters, and plots.  And most of all, you remember the sour ones.  And while you may be all caught up, and awaiting the author’s next release, you get the feeling that you can squeeze a re-read into your TBR just for the hell of it.  Well, that happened recently, as I stared up at my collection (which is very much current, thank you) of Patricia Cornwell’s Kay Scarpetta series.

As some of you may or may not know, Patricia Cornwell is known for establishing the forensic thriller literary form with her 1990 debut, Post-mortem. As of now the series is twenty-two books deep, and it’s been a pickle of a ride between (I only started reading the series one hot July night in 2009). But what do I mean by “pickle”? Well, the bad, sketchy, and usually disconnected entries don't overtake the general good and enjoyment you gain.  I say that because there's a lot to say from reading through Scarpetta‘s many crime-stopping endeavors. However, while I have your attention, let’s talk about the pickles; I love to be honest about my feelings all around.

The "pickles"; books 12-17

While the series started in the first-person, via Scarpetta’s medical examiner lens, Cornwell switched to the third throughout books 12-17.  Already creating pushy, series arcing plots that would eventually back her into a corner; she took her readers out of the head of her famed hero and gave us a line of books probably best forgotten.  Well, to be clear, some were a little more memorable than others for their twisted villains alone. Nonetheless, from 2003’s Blow Fly to the final straw of 2009’s The Scarpetta Factor (the absolute worst in the series, and one I never finished), I almost gave up on the game. As I said in posts past, Scarpetta was like the aunt I wish I had.  So for me to have conversations with her from a wide, narrative berth was no fun. 

I didn’t necessarily want to prowl around in the killer’s head space (though sometimes interesting, they were mostly desperate necrotic musings). And, quite frankly, I didn’t want to do the same with the many strong, secondary characters in the series. Speaking of which, that would include Scarpetta’s F.B.I. husband [Benton], her techno-geek niece [Lucy], and her best friend and fellow detective [Marino]. Their roles have flipped and changed over the course of the series, but I was cool with hearing their many transgressions from a length.  And Lucy, being the most obnoxious of the listed trio, only seconded the villains per her chance at a narrative go.

Thankfully, in 2010, Cornwell changed back to first person and back into her series star’s head. And when I tell you that switch came right on time–I mean right on time. However, that doesn’t mean the series fully recovered from those few unrestrained books written in the third. Some of the post-third POV books were hit or miss, as it concerns containing a solidly maintained and operating plot (last year‘s Flesh and Blood wasn't that great at all). Even so, having Scarpetta back in the narrative seat makes a difference.  I love this series because Kay Scarpetta is intelligent, thoughtful, and works for the dead. Something we all have a fascination for, but can only seem to explore from a healthy distance.

Now in stating all that gush and fuss, I want to countdown to my six favorite Scarpetta cases!

Lost Quotes

Listen to this mess. My computer has been going slowwww these past two or three months. Like, too slow for me to care about booting her up some days. So I decided to investigate the issue and noticed my C Drive’s MB was screaming in the red. Last time I checked, it was blue. Confused, I did the first thing I knew to do: Disk Cleanup. When that was ineffective, I decided to delete some useless files. And here comes a few of those not-so-useless treasures I rediscovered. I thought it would be best to share them here, so the Internet could continue to hold them. Hopefully you’ll find these little quotes inspiring.

By the way, it was my Norton Backup that was killing my C Drive.  I've since fixed the issue and everything is running smoothly.  Now if I can get a new DSL camera, I'll really be good to go.

Savanna Welles Tells Secrets

Oh, WEE. Let’s talk about Savanna Welles’s (aka Valerie Wilson Wesley) latest paranormal romance not-so thriller, The Moon Tells Secrets.

The premise is extra simple–though suggests something yards more exhilarating than the actual events. A woman named Raine has been on the run with her eleven-year-old half African- half Native-American son, Davey. The two are fleeing Davey’s marred legacy, one that not even Davey’s Navajo grandmother could protect them from with her traditions and wisdom. However, before death takes her, she leaves the two plenty to run with. And run they do, because the thing that murdered Davey’s father remains relentless in its pursuit for Davey's blood.

But why you may wonder?

Well, Davey acquired his father’s gift, which is the ability to shift into any animal or person. According to Native American legend, these individuals are known as skinwalkers. And the creature that hunts him is one as well.  To preserve itself, it must kill Davey. Now considering his age, this, essentially, nullifies Davey’s potential to kill it in the future.  Seeing that her son is vulnerable to this creature, it's up to Raine to protect him until she can find a solution.  Thus, Raine provides us with the first-person narrative of her struggle to do so. 

Nevertheless, there is a deuteragonist present by the name of Cade. Cade’s third-person narrative interchanges with Raine’s first-person (odd but not something I found disruptive to the overall narrative). Cade is a man struggling with the loss of his wife, a year after she was found murdered in her home office.  According to the cops, her murder was, theoretically, done with an animal-like ferocity. Nursing the bottle since, Cade slowly finds comfort in the company of Raine and Davey instead. A relationship begins to bloom, despite much of Raine's secretive and closed off behavior.  But as the details of Cade's wife’s death come to light, Raine suddenly begins to pull away from him.  Cade can only wonder if Raine’s sudden apprehension is connected to the mystery of his wife’s murder.  Determined to hold on to Raine and Davey, he begins his search to find out.  

And there, ladies and gentlemen, is where the paranormal romance steps in and out goes any sporting thrills.  Which, at the end of it all, I found beautifully satisfying anyway.  But let's still talk about the book.

Naked Romance

Let’s get to the first thing I appreciated about this particular Welles book. I thought The Moon Tells Secrets was better than Welles’ last Gothic romance thriller, When the Night Whispers; let’s just put that out there. Part of my pleasure with Moon arrives from how Welles–to me–did a better job showing instead of telling. Very little of the storytelling and character fleshing was glossed over with narrative cramped with off-stage scene recaps and exposition.  Not allowing the reader to live the events with the characters breeds disconnect.  So Moon had its moments, but it wasn't as "outsider looking in" as Whispers. 

This made it superior to Whispers, because it allowed the romance between Raine and Cade to unfold before your eyes. Their first “date” was on paper. Their trips to Starbucks (apparently they had waitresses there) was on paper. Going to the fair as a doubting couple? Well, that was on paper as well. Chilling at the house with popcorn and a movie? On paper as well.

You get where I’m going? To be clear, this may be a testament to The Moon Tells Secrets being a paranormal romance, whereas When the Night Whispers was about the deconstruction of a woman because of a toxic romance. So some developments may have been required. Regardless, the difference between the two was too notable. Additionally, this budding romance also filled the pace of the book. It wasn’t until partway through when I realized I had to take the book as a romance and not a paranormal thriller. Once that became clear, I let the romantic incense burn. Though still a little disappointed in the lack of fast-paced chills I came to anticipate.

Bros Over Chills

Navojo skinwalker

This, in turn, points me toward another little letdown I had with The Moon Tells Secrets. Outside of the touches of paranormal, there’s also a mystery. Raine, Cade, and Davey have to find out exactly who is the skinwalker plotting against them. The dribble towards this revelation was mostly weak. They spent more time thinking and feeling and allowing odd moments for the skinwalker to approach them. And its approach seemed mostly ineffectual because–if it was so dangerous and awful–why did Raine and Davey still linger in its radar? Raine encountered the skinwalker a number of times, and yet she'll leave Davey in their new home while she company Cade. Which is odd, now that her cover is blown. The trio even went to a carnival and allowed Davey to prance off on his own–after Raine encountered the skinwalker once more.

So the stakes just didn’t seem to apply. There were talks about the skinwalker waiting until the moon was full, but why show its cards beforehand after it has chased its meal across America? Why ruin the element of surprise? So no. There was little deducing and reasoning Raine and Cade’s way toward who the skinwalker was. They mostly just… well… fell into it all.

I think this is what killed the use of the skinwalker villain. I’m almost tempted to say I wished it got in on the story as the tritagonist of sorts. We hear Raine’s side. We see Cade’s side. What about the quiet, ineffective and less than ruthlessly brutal, skinwalker villain? Who, by the way, turns out to be someone closer to Raine and Davey than they think? And is acknowledged with little emotion–which I found increases how the mystery aspect didn't exactly add up.

If you want to know more about the Native American legend of the skinwalker, click HERE.

Smooth Skinny

However, I reiterate: Paranormal Romance. If you read The Moon Tells Secrets expecting anything else, remind yourself of what it really is. Good paranormal romance? I’d say yes. Though it felt dull and unexciting in the beginning, it became a smooth read when I settled with its romance.

Now what I won't be able to get into is the book's allegory of a mother's love and protection. That'll be up to you to interpret.

The Dollar Tree Mini Haul

A casual stroll through one of my local Dollar Trees led me to these two $1 books I want to share. I’ve been giving myself slaps on the wrist on and off about buying books while I have a stack at home. Only because… well… there’s no good enough excuse why when I don’t really feature book buying bans. Nonetheless, the crux of the story is I walked into the Dollar Tree with no intentions of buying books, and came out with coconut water and two desperately needed titles.  (Along with a few crossword puzzle books for the Grandma.)

So what are they and who wrote them? Let’s see…

Narcopolis is written by an India author named Jeet Thayil (never heard of him, but I’ll tell you why I decided to pick this one up). As for its synopsis, I’ll copy and paste it via Goodreads because it's late and I'm winding down.

Shuklaji Street, in Old Bombay. In Rashid's opium room the air is thick and potent. A beautiful young woman leans to hold a long-stemmed pipe over a flame, her hair falling across her dark eyes. Around her, men sprawl and mutter in the gloom, each one drifting with his own tide. Here, people say that you introduce only your worst enemy to opium.

Outside, stray dogs lope in packs. Street vendors hustle. Hookers call for custom through the bars of their cages as their pimps slouch in doorways in the half-light. There is an underworld whisper of a new terror: the Pathar Maar, the stone killer, whose victims are the nameless, invisible poor. There are too many of them to count in this broken city.

Narcopolis is a rich, chaotic, hallucinatory dream of a novel that captures the Bombay of the 1970s in all its compelling squalor. With a cast of pimps, pushers, poets, gangsters and eunuchs, it is a journey into a sprawling underworld written in electric and utterly original prose.

I picked Narcopolis up because I have a severe shortage of India writers in my library. After reading India Calling back in February, and having yet purchased my copy of Suketu Mehta’s Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found, I figured Narcopolis would be a bridge between the two. Or something to that extent.

The second book, The Love Talker, was written by Elizabeth Peters. I hesitated for just a moment with this one, because I knew Peters was big on writing multiple series; I didn't know where this one fit.  So I stood there and read through her books listed in the opening pages.  I had to be certain this book wasn’t apart of her Amelia Peabody, Vicky Bliss, or Jacqueline Kirby series.  I have to read my series in order, and would hate to buy a book somewhere in the middle of a series I haven't even started (to be clear, I haven't read any Vicky Bliss books).  Luckily, The Love Talker is a complete stand-alone.  Which made the buying process even better.

Here's its synopsis according to Goodreads:

Laurie has finally returned to Idlewood, the beloved family home deep in the Maryland woods where she found comfort and peace as a lonely young girl. But things are very different now. There is no peace in Idlewood. The haunting sound of a distant piping breaks the stillness of a snowy winter's evening. Seemingly random events have begun to take on a sinister shape. And dotty old Great Aunt Lizzie is convinced that there are fairies about -- and she has photographs to prove it. For Laurie, one fact is becoming disturbingly clear: there is definitely something out there in the woods -- something fiendishly, cunningly, malevolently human -- and the lives of her aging loved ones, as well as Laurie's own, are suddenly at serious risk.

Needless to say, I'm pretty thrilled.  I just have to sit my ass down and actually READ.  Other than that, 'preciate it Dollar Tree for having books for $1.

Have you found any interesting surprises Dollar Tree/General or Family Dollar stores?  Share them if you will. 

Bookshelf Tour

What? Brown Behind Brown

"Things have been pretty exciting lately in Crozet, Virginia–a little too exciting if you ask resident feline investigator Mrs. Murphy.  Just as the town starts to buzz over its Civil War reenactment, a popular local man disappears.  No one's seen Tommy Van Allen's single-engine plane, either–except for Mrs. Murphy, who spotted it during a foggy evening's mousing.  Even Mrs. Murphy's favorite human, postmistress Mary Minor "Harry" Haristeen, can sense that something is amiss.  But things really take an ugly turn when the town reenacts the battle of Oak Ridge–and a participant ends up with three very real bullets in his back.  While the clever tiger cat and her friends sift through clues that just don't fit together, more than a few locals fear that the scandal will force well-hidden town secrets into the harsh light of day.  And when Mrs. Murphy's relentless tracking places loved ones in danger, it takes more than a canny kitty and her team of animal sleuths to set things right again..."

~ Cat on the Scent

Need I say anything more, considering I just talked about the previous Mrs. Murphy book with so much delight? No? Good, because the same joy still applies concerning my love of this cozy mystery series. As you can see, I immediately followed Murder on the Prowl (Mrs. Murphy #6) with Cat on the Scent (Mrs. Murphy #7) because I just did not get enough. So if I had a copy of book 8, I would be all over it at the moment.

Nevertheless, Cat on the Scent is standard Brown; loads of characters, talking pets, and small-town murders. I would say the pacing of Cat on the Scent slowed down from the rush of the previous book.  However, the new premise of “ruthless women and sexily cunning wiles” was equally as wonderfully delivered. Here and there, Brown’s characters continue to share pieces of their opinion over real-world topics.  One of those topics was the necessary versus unnecessary need for the Civil War. If you pay attention, you can see which line Brown is on.

An interesting aspect of Cat on the Scent comes somewhat as a spoiler; the villain(s) wins.  I suppose you'll just have to read the book to find out the stakes, lengths, and how.

Anyway, what more can I say besides I love this series?  I suppose I'm not hard to please.  I say, let's order the next five books!

~ 8. Back 2 High School - Towel Style ~

I'm one post away from the last set of pages for this comic.  It's really interesting because–as I mentioned within the first post–I wrote/drew this comic my junior year of high school.  Now flash forward to this past May, and the last and final graduating class has exited the school.  So yeah, my high school is no longer.  One of the city's hospitals is taking over the property and doing some expansion work.  A couple of weeks ago the school opened its doors one last time for the community to come aboard, take pictures, and (I believe) participate in an auction for some of the memorabilia.  I didn't make it.  I'm still not quite sure if I really wanted to see some of my old classmates roaming those once traumatic halls, with their older faces greeting me.  That's just the truth.  

Even so, it's a surreal feeling knowing my high school closed, probably because my memories of my experience there are so damn strong.  The good, bad, and indifferent; high school is hardly forgettable for just about anyone.  And personally, it probably didn't help that I didn't get over high school until I turned 21.  

I remember getting yelled at in 9th grade because I didn't want to play basketball–yet I loved lifting weights.  (I passed P.E. with a 65 and was happy because that meant I didn't have to retake it.)  I remember learning how to drive in 10th grade, and the excitement of passing the drivers' test.  My junior year I was in a play, and developed my first long-standing crush.  And no one can forget the edge of freedom that your senior year brings out of you.  I got really cocky during that year.  Part of that was because I was on the newspaper staff and my comics were featured in each newspaper.  When I look back, I was pretty damn brave and ambitious.  So yes, very good memories.  Some troubling, but all good.

Taking this comic and reflecting on its conception leads me to think how high school does determine where you'll go in life.  Well, to a degree.  I suppose what I really meant was it fosters the beginnings of your aspirations mingling with your character.