I just finished Arturo Perez-Reverte's "
The Club Dumas", which was the inspiration for the Johnny Depp film "The Ninth Gate".
which, if you can look past Roman Polanski directing it, it a pretty great distillation of the better parts of the book (all the devil stuff) and basically ignoring all the "Club Dumas" stuff about the life and times of Alexander Dumas (of The Three Musketeers fame). Much like his
The Flanders Panel it skips between laborious history of some thing (chess and rennaissance art in the case of TFP) and a crime that often kinda fizzles out with a "you killed people for THAT?" kinda reveal at the end. Very much a "journey, not the destination" type author I think, or something is lost in translation. Still, the books are wonderful travelogues of the 80s-90s europe and tend to be full of sex and casual debauchery that makes you long for the days of pounding whisky and chain smoking to get by
Moving on to Jack Carr's "
In the Blood". Carr is a bit of a mixed bag. He certainly has the pedigree for lone wolf thrillers, but his obsession with marketing and name dropping the brands of shoes, belts, guns, holsters, knives, cars, coffee, wine, hell, probably hair gel, underwear, and toothpaste eventually does make the books read more like a mens catalogue than a novel. It's built him a pretty fanatical fan base and sponsorship though, so no arguing with success.