Blake Crouch, Pines

I read several books by Blake Crouch a number of years ago. (I've just realized with some shock that it's been 12 years since I read Desert Places.) They were very good, but I ultimately stopped because they were also very gory, and I decided it was just too much for me. (I still think about one particular scene from Locked Doors frequently when I wake up in the middle of the night.) Time passed, and I was aware that Crouch was publishing more books, in particular the Wayward Pines series. When I learned that the trilogy had spawned a TV series, it occurred to me that the books' broad popularity might mean they weren't as gory as Crouch's earlier work. I gave Wayward Pines a shot, and I'm glad I did. It's been a long time since I was as riveted by a piece of fiction as I've been over the last few days.

Secret Service agent Ethan Burke winds up in Wayward Pines while investigating the disappearance of his colleagues. He's injured from a car accident, not thinking clearly, but there's something off about the bucolic town, which sits nestled between towering cliffs somewhere in Idaho. Readers are left scratching their heads over the strangeness along with Ethan—we've actually got more to be confused by than he does—and I, at least, did not anticipate the big reveal at the end. Really looking forward to book two—and then I guess I've got some viewing to do!