The other day I finished reading Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz. It's an engrossing tale of psychic gifts and sociopathic serial killers and I was sucked right in. The only real problem I had with it was that the narrator, 20 year old Odd Thomas, sounded more like he was in his late 30s or 40s. He doesn't talk like a young man and okay, it's because he's so intelligent and lives such a weird life. I understand that. It was just a little off to me.
Odd sees dead people (think: Sixth Sense) all over town. They don't speak to him, though. If they need to get a message across, they have to find some non-verbal way to do it. Odd also sees supernatural evil type critters he calls bodachs which he defines as psychic vampires. A swarm of bodachs surrounds a very odd (heh heh) looking man who appears at the diner and Odd has this dreadful feeling something bad is going to happen.
There are a couple of "far stretches" in the book involving break-ins, moving bodies, hiding bodies, and some other stuff but they weren't at a ridiculous level, enough to cause me to throw the book down in disgust. And the end ... what a heck of a twist!
I have found another author whose books I enjoy reading!
A little note to Jessica about the subject matter of some of my posts: I write this blog for me, not for readers. Changing the words of an old song called "It's My Party": It's my blog and I'll write what I want to. No one is forced to read it. It's like TV, just change the channel. As for Linda, I am very saddened ... how can I trust someone ever again who lies with such a straight face and doesn't seem to care about how what she does affects her family? She really needs to get her act together and I don't know if that will ever ever happen. I ache for Little T.
I say ... and you think ...