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Saturday, October 22, 2011

Sleeper's Run by Henry Mosquera

War on Terror veteran, Eric Caine, is found wandering the streets of Miami with no memory of the car accident that left him there.  Alone and suffering from PTSD, Eric is on a one-way road to self-destruction.  Then a chance meeting at a bar begins a series of events that helps Eric start anew.  When his new job relocates him to Venezuela-the land of his childhood-things, however, take an ominous turn as a catastrophic event threatens the stability of the country.  Now Eric must escape an elite team of CIA assassins as he tries to uncover an international conspiracy in which nothing is what it seems. 

I don't normally get into military or political books, but I have to admit that I rather enjoyed this one. Fans of the Bourne series are sure to enjoy it. There's enough intrigue and drama to keep you reading, even if you're easily bored by special ops and political propaganda.



The most fascinating part of this book for me was the writing style. I'm used to storytellers, and Mosquera is definitely not a storyteller. Instead of having a familiar feeling that someone is just talking to you, this is an artfully crafted tale. We switch back and forth between first and third person. It's almost as if we're watching Caine's life through both his eyes as well as an unseen narrator. In the beginning, I found myself feeling as if I were reading an old episode of Twilight Zone. After a while, I didn't even notice the writing because I was so wrapped up in the story most of the time.


For those of you who enjoy this genre, Mosquera is definitely an author to keep an eye on. This is his first novel, but I foresee several more in the future. He writes like a veteran and keeps the suspense rolling from cover to cover.

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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.

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