This is a love-it-or-hate-it book. I did some of both.

Drea Rousseau (her real name is Andrea Butts but she thinks this is classier) is the mistress of Rafael Salinas, a drug kingpin. She insists a mistress is not a whore. (She’s in it for the bling and the bucks. You decide.) For two years she has done little all day except hang around Salinas’s New York apartment looking decorative, acting stupid, and being available whenever Salinas is in the mood.

Salinas is meeting with the Assassin; he’s used his professional services in the past. (The Assassin is known only by his occupation for the first half of the novel.) Salinas wants to reward the Assassin for a job well done. What does he want? One hundred thousand dollars? “I want her.” Only once.

Drea cannot believe that Salinas will agree to give her to the Assassin, but he does. Drea is terrified, but the Assassin is careful and a fantastic lover and Drea is very needy. The “only once” takes four hours. (Yes, four hours!) At the end, Drea begs the Assassin to take her with him. He tells her that once was enough.

Drea is shattered. To disguise her despair, she lies to Salinas. He believes that she is in love with him and the Assassin didn’t touch her. Drea is not ready to forgive Salinas. She arranges the electronic transfer of two million dollars into her own account and takes off. Salinas contacts the Assassin and hires him to track her down and kill her.

On the run, Drea learns her plans weren’t as clever as she’d believed: it’s not all that easy to waltz into a bank and walk out with two million dollars. She’s forced to alter her plans somewhat, and the Assassin is on her trail and getting closer and closer.

Before I go any farther in this review, I need to make this perfectly clear: I don’t expect fictional characters to be as pure as the driven snow. Hey, I’m been a devoted fan of Lee Child’s Jack Reacher and Barry Eisler’s John Rain novels for years. (Check out my reviews at The Mystery Reader if you don’t believe me.) They’re emotionally stunted and morally compromised, but they still have me rooting for them page after page. If they were to die, I’d grieve. So why don’t I give the same leeway to Drea Rousseau and whats-his-name, the Assassin? I’ve been working on that question for several days, and I think I’ve figured it out.

Jack Reacher and John Rain have been emotionally isolated for most of their lives. They make human connections very reluctantly. Jack Reacher’s mother called him “Reacher” while addressing his brother by his first name. What kind of Mom doesn’t even call her kid by his given name (which she probably gave him)? As everyone who’s taken Psych 101 knows, it’s always Mom’s fault. John Rain is multi-racial and was never accepted by either culture. That may not be an excuse, but it’s an explanation. These are characters who have convinced me they act from some kind of antisocial core that is beyond their control. They can’t do better because they’re doing the best they can.

Back to Death Angel. Drea Rousseau had some tough breaks, but there’s a lot of that going around. She hasn’t tried to be any better than she absolutely has to be and she’s an accomplished master (or should I say “mistress”) at rationalizing her behavior . The Assassin was born in Germany – his father served in the military – and some people deserve killing. Well, forgive me for not being persuaded. Shouldn’t there be something more than great sex to make these two the hero and heroine? Like some guilt? Some remorse? (Interestingly, the only character who suffers those is the drug dealing scumbag Salinas.) There is one moving scene where the Assassin is in a hospital chapel that shows he cares more for Drea than he’s wanted to acknowledge even to himself.

It’s when the Assassin catches up to Drea that the story takes a sudden turn. The only hint I’ll give you is what’s been announced by the publisher: this is Linda Howard’s first paranormal fiction since Dream Man. The title Death Angel may have been chosen as a reflection of the earlier book’s title.

Linda Howard has come a long way as an author since she began writing formulaic category romances. Her plots are original and varied; her character development is deeper. Death Angel is edgier than many of her books but is not a complete departure; the earlier Kiss Me While I Sleep was in much the same vein. Death Angel is far from her best book (I’d bestow that honor on Open Season), but it’s unusual and mostly well-written. Its main weakness is the generally unsympathetic hero and heroine. Nevertheless, if you’re one of her many fans, you’re going to want to read it. One thing’s for certain: you won’t be forgetting it.

--Lesley Dunlap