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I read the first two chapters of this book before it was published, and was sure I'd hate it for two reasons - it's written in first person, and Bosch's anti-authority figure would suffer without the LAPD supervisors to give him battles to fight. Then, I read the entire book. Connelly came through for me again. Bosch still has windmills to flail against and the story was so exciting that I forgot it was narrated by the man himself. An excellent read - not as much to my liking as CONCRETE BLONDE or ANGELS FLIGHT, but far superior to BLOOD WORK and CATCHING THE DIME.

My greatest complaint about Connelly is that he has ruined my enjoyment of other authors - they just don't measure up. I can no longer find excitement in the writings of Patterson or Burke or any of those authors I used to read before I got hooked on Bosch.

And, here comes Bosch again - fighting bureaucracy in search of the truth, rekindling old flames and renewing old relationships, and just flat tearing up anything that stands in the way of justice. If ever a character jumped out of the pages and lived, it has to be Harry Bosch.

Thanks, Mr. Connelly, for renewing my faith in you. I can't for the life of me figure out how you can keep up the pace, but I'm mighty glad you do. I can hardly wait for the next installment!

Bosch is no more with LAPD (as some of us will remember from the postlude of City of Bones) and this book veers around a first person "civilian" narrative which is perhaps the deepest peep into his psyche to date. I confess to having read only the last 3 of Connelly's novels, but for the first time we get to see Harry the person instead of Harry the detective. This lends a certain credibility and authenticity to the character as a flesh and blood mortal who ages and is subject to the same natural laws of living as everyone else.

Despite this somewhat "soft" brush, Connelly's adroit strokes do not detract Lost Light from his trademark breakneck pace, with the murder's implications expanding the investigation far and wide, possibly implicating police corruption, FBI conspiracy, and international terrorism. Which makes for an unpredictable, irreverent, suspenseful ripper of a read.

Expect nothing less from Connelly, clearly a contemporary master of his genre (along with Herb Cohen in my book). Lost Light is easily an excellent follow-up to an exceptionally fine series. And if you thought City of Bones concluded with a shock, wait for the final twist in this one!

Harry Bosch goes from the beginning of this book to the end with what seems like maybe four hours of sleep, no cigarettes, several cups of coffee, and a churro (maybe). This guy has the constitution of a bulldog.

He never quits, never says "die," and knows when to give in to the powers that be. You'll speed through the book like he does through the murder case, jumping from one episode to the next. This is a great book for insomniacs or those who "only stand and wait," a thing I do a lot.

Only one thing to note, how at the final climax, Harry gets lost in South Central and runs into a mob of rioters, who bodily unload the "shooter," a cop, from the backseat of Harry's car (where the man's been handcuffed). Chastain, the personage in question, deserves what he gets, of course. He started the riot by shooting a popular black lawyer.

But why can't Harry find his way around South Central? All of the main streets are perpendicular. This book's riot is close to where the 1992 "flashpoint" was, Florence and Normandie. This riot is just a little further south, being near Florence and Manchester (86th).

Anyway, living in South Central, as I do, I enjoyed his little jaunt there, but reading about how they did Chastain reminded me a little of what happened recently in Iraq. Diximus.