Book Review — GRAVEYARD FIELDS by Steven Tingle
Davis Reed is plagued by the three “A’s”: anger, alcohol, and anxiety. A former Charleston police officer, turned private detective, Davis hopes to gain some respect, self and otherwise, by writing a book. His subject: the true story of a B-25 bomber that crashed on Cold Mountain in western North Carolina just after the end of World War II.
From the comfort of a mountain cabin in Cruso, NC Davis spends his days popping anti-anxiety pills, drinking copious amounts of home brewed beer, and not writing a book. But when he discovers a set of keys on a mountain trail, he becomes curious, then obsessed, about finding the rightful owner. With the help of his friend Dale Johnson, a 275 pound local deputy who is full time ornery and part time clever, and Dale’s cousin Floppy, a motor mouthed mechanic with a penchant for conspiracy theories and kleptomania, Davis works to uncover the mystery of the keys while navigating a world of small town secrets, shady characters, 80’s heavy metal, and murder.
But Davis has his own secrets and even though he’s escaped to the mountains some bad business in Charleston is beginning to catch up with him. For an anxiety riddled man looking for peace and quiet Davis somehow stumbles into more chaos and crossfire than any amount of beer and pills can alleviate.
Released: August 2021
My ThoughtsI want to be nice. Really, I do, especially since it’s the holiday season and all. My apologies because I’m about to be the opposite of nice.
Davis, our main character, is a drunk cop-turned-PI-turned-writer, who doesn’t detect or write, and is addicted to prescription pills. The other characters are cliche rednecks.
Davis and all the cops are too stupid to wear badges and carry guns. They ignore obvious evidence and laugh off red-flag situations, requiring flashing neon arrows and danger signs before they start connecting dots.
We mosey along with an overly simplistic plot, relying solely on the stupidity of bumbling cops to string things out for an entire book. This, with the help of beer.
We spend an unreasonable amount of time on homebrewed beer. All the people in or passing through this town drink only these specialty beers, and most of the characters make their own. People are either drinking said beer or talking about it. Often both at the same time. If the plot had something to do with beer, this would’ve been tolerable. But it didn’t. So who cares about the beer? Not me.
But, hey, other readers have loved this book, and you might too.
*I received an ARC from the publisher.*
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