'Death incarnate' will keep you on edge

• Death Incarnate
  
• Author: K. Sean Harris
  
• Publisher: Book Fetish, 138 pages
  
• Reviewer: Siobhan Morrison

Having read a few of K. Sean Harris' books, I had some idea of what to expect from his novel Death Incarnate: The Saga Continues. To say Harris lives up to my expectations would be an understatement. The erotic thriller grabs you by the throat and never lets go. He pairs his usual raw, sexual energy with graphic violence that boarders on excessive. I had chills racing down my spine. It's one of those books you want to put down, but you just can't stop reading.

The novel is the sequel to Harris' other thriller, Merchant of Death: A Jamaican Saga of Drugs, Sex, Violence and Corruption. If you are like me, and have not read the prequel, then I would advise you do so before picking up a copy of Death Incarnate. Although the novel can be read as a stand-alone, the prequel supplies back-story that is essential to the current book. However, Harris does provide some insight with brief flashbacks throughout the story.

Set in kingston

As with many of Harris' books, Death Incarnate is set in the cosmopolitan surrounding of Kingston, Jamaica, particularly among the upper echelon of society. Readers are introduced or, as the case may be, reintroduced to the lovely and brilliant Terri Miller, assistant superintendent of police and a career police officer on the fast track to becoming Jamaica's first female commissioner. A single mother, Miller withdraws from front-line duty in favour of an administrative post after the birth of her son. But when Jamaica is suddenly gripped by a series of brutal rapes, Miller is pulled back to active duty.

On the heels of a psychotic serial-rapist-turned-killer, the detective soon finds herself caught in his cross hairs. When her son is threatened and her best friend becomes one of the rapist's victims, things become personal for Miller. She must put an end to a killer's reign of terror, even if it means putting herself at risk.

Moving in tandem with the central plot is the secondary story of Terri Miller, the woman behind the shield. The novel's prologue not only offers a snippet of the prequel's plot, but also some insight into the character's private hell. At the risk of ruining Merchant of Death for readers, Miller is suffering from the fallout following the death of her child's father, who she had been secretly dating. The fact that he was a criminal, who she was forced to kill during a deadly stand-off, has turned her world upside down. To make matters worse, she finds out that she and her son were not the only ones her lover left behind.

Some readers will definitely find a female hero operating in a male-dominated field, who kicks butt while retaining her femininity, quite refreshing. However, others may find Harris' main character a little too good to be true. Miller, who is from a wealthy Jamaican family, is described as "simply the best cop in the island, perhaps the western hemisphere, some would argue." She is suited in expensive brands from head to toe, drives a BMW X5 to and from crime scenes and is able to drop $100,000 on home security without blinking an eye. Hard to believe? Maybe, but the description is certainly in tune with the moneyed urban setting of the book. Her position of power and femininity is what attracts the killer and makes her a worthy opponent.

The villain also possesses the same veneer of wealth and urbanity, which he uses to mask his dark side. A Jamaican repatriate and ex-American soldier, Wolfman - his self-created identity - is best described as a misogynist with serious 'mommy issues'. Again, I was not satisfied with Harris' one-and-a-half-page explanation of the catalyst behind the killer's actions. Given the level of his depravity, it seems trite and one-dimensional. Harris writes that the killer was nine when he watched his mother having rough sex with two of her clients, "it stirred something in him, he now hated his mother with a passion, [and] was very excited at the rough manner in which the men were treating her." He sees himself as "a hero for the common man, so emasculated and marginalised by society that he felt inferior to women. He was here to tip back the balance of the scale in favour of man (and) show these (women) just who was in charge."

Whatever weak points the book has are redeemed by the overall style of Harris' writing. As always, he displays a clear and well-crafted style of writing. Written largely in standard English, there is an infusion of American slang and Jamaican Patois. The dialogue is quick, witty and edgy. The mention of local hotspots and landmarks in Kingston - despite minor name changes - and the injection of various pop-culture references keep the story current.

Also commendable is the wide range of emotions and the level of tension Harris is able to fit into such a slim volume. The plot develops in a swift and direct manner and the action is allowed to move at a brisk pace, holding readers' attention and keeping them on edge. Overall, Harris gets a four out a five for his take on Death Incarnate.