After saving the world from his fiendish father's side of the family, Cal Leandros and his stalwart half-brother Niko have settled down with new digs and a new gig-bodyguard and detective work. And in New York City, where preternatural beings stalk the streets just like normal folk, business is good. Their latest case has them going undercover for the Kin-the werewolf Mafia. A low-level Kin boss thinks a rival is setting him up for a fall, and wants proof. The place to start is the back room of Moonshine-a gambling club for non-humans. Cal thinks it's a simple in-and-out job. But Cal is very, very wrong.
I got to page 24, yes 24, before I decided I couldn't take anymore. The story is told from Cal's point of view and he tries just too damn hard to be cool, witty, and sarcastic. Like a private eye from one of those Maltese Falcon wanna-be B movies. He also tells us more than once that his brother is the very best and most efficient killer. I half expected the guy to be Superman or something. That's the problem with the way the book is written. In merely 24 pages the author managed to bore me because he tells, tells, tells the audience what he wants us to believe rather than trying to show it to us. Perhaps if Cal didn't think his brother was "the bomb diggity" or Bruce Lee reincarnated and perhaps if he didn't try so damn hard to sound cool I could have cared enough to stick with the story. As it is he grated on my hot damn nerves like a wanna-be teenage punk.
A sad 2 out of 5. Just because the book cover is nice.