I forget where I was read about this book, but a thousand times I wish I did, because I'm never taking that advice again. Maybe if I had done some research, I would have found that this book was not up my alley.
Look, I like mysteries, I enjoy cop dramas and the theme that cops and criminals are similar but for a legality and rules. None of that's here.
The writing's worse than pulpy bestseller drama, and there is barely any suspense to drive the story. It drags. I only finished it because I felt obligated, and honestly I kept reading because I couldn't let go of the hope that something more interesting would happen. It had to.
Nope. Alright, then, fine, I give up. Novels like this make me question satisfaction. Will I ever make it through my neverending list of books I want to read? A book is an investment, which makes it so thoroughly depressing when a book isn't at least fun.
The story's simple, not that you're interested if I've tainted you correctly. Three children whose first names are spelled the same backwards as forwards (i.e. "Asa") have been murdered. Fifteen years later, with the case still unsolved, another kid has been killed whose name is a palindrome, and the cops that worked the unsolved case are brought together with mixed emotions and old tensions. And...
Nothing happens! The mysteries fizzle out, the characters quickly become unbelievable and tiring, and the subplots are boring. Have I said enough? I feel bad badgering this book any further. I should, but I won't.
And the cover isn't all that great either, in retrospect.