Paperback Reader

More cleaning recently happened and the book bubbled its way to the top of the pile. “Ah ha!” I said out loud (only the cats could hear). “It’s a sign.” Yes, I abandoned the evil task of putting stuff away and headed to the backyard to read. It’s important to pay attention to omens and whatnot.

Cry No More tells the story of Milla Edge, a woman who turned the tragedy of having her baby stolen from her in a crowded Mexican market into a successful organization that finds lost people. Of course, Milla is still desperately seeking the trail of her lost son. She will grasp at any straw, as long as it might prove a connection to what happened all those years ago.

Thus, one night she finds herself hot on the trail of man named Diaz. The various straws have woven themselves into a chain that ties Diaz to her lost son; in fact, Diaz might be the man whose eye a desperate, fighting Milla clawed out. Yes, ick, but it makes for a distinctive villain, no?

Milla never gets to connect with Diaz that night, probably good for his health as her need for vengeance makes her bit less cool-headed than a woman with a gun should be. But fate soon brings them together, and he’s pretty much the cold-blooded assassin she’s heard about. And, this being a romance, he’s pretty much butter when it comes to feisty, vulnerable, beautiful women. Diaz is soon recruited to Milla’s cause.

I’m going to be honest: I didn’t start out with the warm fuzzies for Milla. Women seeking lost babies are obvious chain-jerkers, and on some levels, Milla fit the profile. I mean, she’s devoted her life to finding her child. Her marriage, happy as we saw in the prologue, dissolved. She is estranged from her siblings; they feel that there simply comes a time when one moves on. She lives and breathes her “Finders” organization to the point where personal relationships are, at best, perfunctory. She’s completely obsessed.

And this is where Howard makes Milla a far better heroine than a less talented author would. Milla’s traits are not heroic. She’s flawed, she’s selfish, she’s myopic. Sure she’s gained the admiration of friend and foe, but when push comes to shove, Milla has issues. In order for her to become a real person, she has a lot of healing to do.

Being woefully unfamiliar with classic Linda Howard (yeah, well, you know there are a lot of books out there to read; one simply cannot do justice to every author), I am assuming that Diaz is a prototypical classic Howard hero. He’s dangerous, remote, and morally questionable. Some of the dark edges are grayed, sure, but Diaz kills people, he exacts his own brand of justice, he makes grown men lose control of bodily functions just by smiling. Even as Milla, through Howard, domesticates him, Diaz isn’t fully tamed.

Quickly, two plot threads weave together: the case of stolen babies, sold to unsuspecting adoptive parents, and a string of murders that lead to a ring who thrives on black market organ donations. As the mysterious Diaz ghosts in and out of her life, Milla discovers that not all in her world is as it appears. She soon finds that people she has always trusted might be working against her best interests.

The novel is set along the Texas/Mexico border, where culture, language, cars, and weapons are casually traded back and forth. Though now that I think on it, there is remarkably little of the Mexican culture, especially when it comes to food, in this novel. There’s a memorable scene where Milla, at a fundraiser, endures yet another plate of rubber chicken. The foresight of one guest to bring “Southwestern spices” is treated like a revelation among other guests; I was pretty much wondering what in the heck was meant by “Southwestern spices”. People I know, they’d just bring Cholula or something. The whole “spices” thing rang a false note.

I digress. The setting is hot desert. Lots of barren landscape, lots of cactus, lots of dusty outposts where danger lurks but nobody gets real satisfaction. Yet, throughout the course of the novel, Milla and Diaz travel the United States. Texas, New Mexico, Idaho, Kentucky, North Carolina, deep Mexico. These characters get around. Because they’re often traveling to different places at different times, it’s somewhat amazing that they ever find time for a conversation, much less a hot and heavy affair.

Which you know is inevitable. But then things happen, the mystery of the missing baby is solved, and the whole affair thing dissolves as Milla realizes the truly ruthless aspect of Diaz’s nature. Then there’s the thing where this comports to be a suspense novel (it looks like on, acts like one), yet finishes like a classic from the “women’s fiction” genre.

Wrapping up the mystery of who stole Milla’s baby becomes perfunctory and unsatisfactory as the characters move quickly into the world of aftermath. There is no true closure with the villains – or the victims of the villains – before Milla and Diaz move into the next phase. Likewise, a cute subplot between two of Milla’s co-workers is relegated to “better luck next book” status. The finale simply doesn’t match the build-up.

But did I put the book down despite these flaws? Are you crazy? It was all I could do turn the pages fast enough. I was caught with tears rolling down my face – sorry, not rolling, racing – at one point. Horrible, awful, I was totally emotionally manipulated tears. And just when I thought I was over it (I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t know I was being lead), more tears. Crying makes me blotchy.

This is not my favorite Linda Howard. My heart is still openly and wholly devoted to Open Season with Mr. Perfect running a close second. I’m moody. But, until the end – and I can see why Howard chose to deal with the grieving process in such detail – it was a page-turner. You gotta love an author who can suck you in to the point where you get sunburned because you don’t want to stop reading long enough to move away from the hottest rays.

You can buy Cry No More link or here. I’ve given up on the Linda Howard website. If it’s finally up and running and functional, you can let me know.