** spoiler alert ** 4.75 out of 5 stars.

I wish there was some way to indicate partial star ratings because I would like to give this book higher than four stars. This is the first time I've read a book by Kathy Reichs (though I am a casual watcher of Bones) and the book did not disappoint. The heroine is intelligent and tough, with an interesting backstory. I found her to be more likable than Patricia Cornwall's Kay Scarpetta and a thousand times more interesting than how she is portrayed on Bones.

The physical descriptions of the dead bodies are graphically intense--not something that squicks me as a rule--but even I had to pause a moment during some descriptions when reading over lunch. :-)The murders themselves were particularly grisly, though I doubt they would phase the average CSI fan. I appreciated, too, the depiction of the realities of working as a forensic anthropologist--and how other cases came and went during the course of the story.

I liked the wealth of detail offered on the cases and the workings of the investigations--less so when the story tended to bog down a bit in the descriptions of local color. I am a fan of narrative description in general, but there were times when I found myself skimming for several pages. The pacing was good for the most part, though a bit uneven in places.

Overall, this book is by far one of the better examples of the genre. My biggest complaint is a picky one, and not subject to the author alone. I have a pet peeve with plucky, smart women who seem to deliberately make stupid decisions in the name of investigating something on her own. I was annoyed when Tempe chose to explore a possible body dump site alone after dark and then the inevitable happened. I was further aggravated by the fact that once it was apparent that the murderer had taken a particular interest in her, that she took no steps to make herself any safer--and in fact, continued to make unwise decisions (that ultimately solved the case) by going out alone at all hours, in dangerous quarters of town, to make her case.

After the death of someone very close to her--at the very least, the locks on her place should have been changed. THAT DAY. She'd had multiple episodes of stalker behavior by then. You don't leave the set up as is when that occurs. You change your schedule, you get someone to drive with you to work and back, you stay somewhere else, you send the pets to a safe place--and if possible, you *move*. You don't just ignore the fact that the threat is escalating and do nothing about it except 'keep a watchful eye.'

This is not the fault of the author, however, as much as it is the genre. I call it the Nancy Drew-Girl Detective syndrome. I grew up on it--it's very familiar. I don't know that I could write a story myself without falling into the same trap. :-) This story redeemed itself when, as the final confrontation came down, the heroine managed to safe herself. And not in a neat, tidy, and heroic manner, as she would have been depicted on television. In a knockdown, drag-out, toe-to-toe fight for survival.