Jobe, his possibly angelic, possibly demonic reflection, Wendy and her ghostly twin brother are all back, hot on the trail of the people who kidnapped Wendy’s father, who are hopefully the same people behind a virus that creates serial killers. Both are odd characters. Jobe is a full on anti-hero, the servant of god-style serial killer who punishes the evil doers around him. Wendy is a thirteen year old girl, smart beyond her years and yet vulnerable to the horrors she’s caught up in. And yet they are the heroes, the only ones with the ability (both supernatural and non) to hunt down and stop some pretty insidious bad guys.

One of the stand out elements in this book is its antihero lead, as readers will find themselves conflicted about and uncomfortable with Jobe’s methods, but it’s absolutely clear that he is in fact the hero of the story. Also Wendy is a precocious young girl, who knows and understands far more than she should. But rather than being unbelievable her grown up mentality is explained by the role she’s played as parent in her messed up family for so long, and tempered by some emotional strife in reaction to the first book, The Lesser of Two Evils, and events in this book, which serve to remind readers that despite her capabilities she is still a teenaged girl.

The only flaw Trail of Madness suffers from is lack of tightness. Not yet flabby, it remains that some shaving could have been done to firm up this 400 page tale.

One of the most interesting serial killer tales I’ve read in a while with the most vivid characters, I recommend this one to readers who like the serial killer concept, but want to see something new done with it.

I was given this book to review.

Silver is a tome, one hell of a book, in scope, complexity and power. Twinning a secret religious cult made up of the descendants of the misunderstood Judas and a handful of highly organized acts of terrorism that begins with 13 people burning themselves alive at the same moment in time across the world, Silver pits a team of secretive investigators against a worldwide religious-political threat.

Move over Dan Brown, Saville threads in more flavor, texture and dimension into a story than most authors dream of. Moving from the U.S. to Israel, Rome and Germany and including a vast cast that will make other international thrillers appear pale in comparison, Silver is a hefty read.

The pace is even, but not always speedy and the layered details might not be intriguing to all readers. The emphasis here is strongly on large scope character and world building. Silver would appeal to readers who enjoy more of a mainstream slant to genre fiction, such as those who find Stephen King and Michael Crichton’s detail and character-oriented styles to their taste. Even readers who might find this storytelling method slow will have to admit that Saville backs it up with a lot of plot interest and intrigue and a twist on the Christian theological mythos that’s edgy and new.

Manny Rupert, an addict, a cop kicked off the force, an the ex-husband of a murderer, is back for round two. This time he’s been hired to go undercover in San Quentin and determine whether a sick old man in for vehicular manslaughter is really who he claims to be—the infamous Nazi Doctor of Death, Joseph Mengele.

That’s where Pain Killers starts, but where it goes is on an insane, gritty, noir venture through the darkest parts of society. Pain Killers is a humorous black romp if by humorous you mean “Oh my God they went there” and by romp you mean going by limo from prison snail back love shack to Christian porn sets to meth houses and mansions and back again. This novel is, to steal a line, truly, truly outrageous.

Stahl’s humor is not for everyone, possibly not for anyone that possesses an iota of sensitivity about religion, psychology, the human condition, addiction, sex, or just about any subject. But there’s a sort of victorious feel to seeing character so truly messed up still intelligent and stubborn and taking on the face of human evil. There’s more talking than action, so the pace is not forceful or fast. At times the conversations while interesting and amusing come off as off topic, when the point is to solve a mystery. And the WTF factor is, at times, very high. But it’s a wild ride, different from everything else out there which certainly has an audience in today’s marketplace.

From the back cover of Amberville one might expect a cross between Sesame Street and The Sopranos. Eric Bear, years after leaving behind a life of drugs and a job as a runner for a mafia king, opens his apartment door to find his former boss, the mafia head Nicholas Dove visiting with a request—take Dove’s name off the infamous Death List (literally a list of those slated to disappear from the world) or he will have his gorillas tear apart Eric’s beloved wife, Emma Rabbit.

This kicks off the reforming of Eric’s small gang, Tom-Tom Crow, Sam Gazelle and Snake Marek, who have all moved on from their criminal pasts in their own ways, and a desperate hunt for the society’s biggest secret, the Death List and its writer.

But after finishing Amberville readers will find it to be a very peculiar book. Somewhere between a mafia mystery and a higher-brow literary work addressing the nature of good and evil in the world, Amberville balances a deep mystery and action with deep, soulful contemplations (by mad men, or mad bears as the case may be). In fact the literary, contemplative sections which can, at times come off as lagging bits in the pacing of the plot, genuinely serve to distract and set up the reader, a sign of some truly clever writing.

Yes, the characters really are stuffed animals, living in a world where many things are very clearly defined for them (such as the good areas of town literally being painted different colors from the bad ones). And that analogy doesn’t go very far, in that the type of animal a character is doesn’t necessarily define who they are. And there aren’t really any musing on the nature of man versus beast. But each animal is a full, fleshy—or stuffed—whole with a parallel personality type in our world.

Amberville is the kind of book you wouldn’t think about reading, or you’d expect to not like, only to discover it has a lot more to offer than can be explained on the book jacket. It absolutely keeps you guessing, up to the last sentence, and asks questions but never presumes to offer answers, making it a very good read indeed.