Richard Dane has killed a man. He cannot unhear the firing of the gun or unsee the blood on his living room wall. But everybody in the small town of LaBorde, Texas knows Dane acted in self defense. Everybody except Ben Russel, the ex-con father of the small-time criminal who invaded Dane’s home.

When Russel comes looking for revenge against Dane’s family, the two are unexpectedly drawn into a conspiracy that conceals the vilest of crimes. Surrounded by police corruption, mafia deception, and underworld brutality, Dane, Russel, and eccentric PI Jim Bob Luke have discovered a game they may not survive.

I’ve gotta think that for most of us readers/book collectors, finding something really special at a used bookstores is one of the greatest thrills. Sure, you can always track down that specific out-of-print book used on eBay or Amazon, but finding it in the wild just makes the experience that much more exciting.

One of my very favorite places for used book shopping is The Book Barn in Niantic, CT. Up until very recently (due to a lease issue), it was actually four separate stores, all in the same area of town. They’re down to three stores after some consolidation, but it’s still just an all-day adventure (if you follow me on Bookstagram, you’ve probably seen me post some stories from there), with each store housing different genres. I have a “system” for when I go (I always start in the store that has fantasy/sci-fi/horror, unless I’m selling books, and then I start at the Main Barn). But no matter which store I’m in, I’m always on the lookout for Joe R. Lansdale books. It can be tricky, because he writes across more than a couple genres. And truthfully, I haven’t had a ton of success. A few paperbacks here and there, but not much else.

Until my last trip to The Book Barn! I had one of those amazing HOLYFUCKINGSHITTHOSEAREMINE moments, actually in the horror section. Someone had parted ways with not one, not two, but THREE pristine Lansdale hardcovers: Mucho Mojo, The Nightrunners, and Cold in July. I’m not 100% certain they are all first edition (I get confused trying to figure it out), but all three were just perfect. And while plastic wrap over the dust jacket isn’t super my style, I’m gonna respect whoever kept these books in such good shape, and keep it on them!

ANYWAY! Picking a new Lansdale book isn’t exactly arbitrary for me, but…I have amassed quite a lot of them, and plan on reading them all. But Cold in July had popped up on a couple lists I saw on Twitter recently, both for the book and the movie (which I’m hoping to watch soon!), so I wanted to check it out! And of course, like everything Lansdale touches, this book is pure gold.

Richard Dane, his wife Ann, and his little boy, Jordan, are sound asleep in their home in LaBorde, Texas. Ann hears an intruder, so Richard quickly grabs & loads his gun, and creeps down the hall to confront this person. It’s a man, and he fires a gun at Richard’s head, nearly killing him. Richard fires back, and the intruder is dead.

The cops come. They talk to Richard, tell him everything is fine. The man’s name was Freddy Russel, a burglar who had been in & out of jail. It was clearly self-defense. Case closed, right?

WRONG! This is a fucking Joe R. Lansdale book, and it’s about to get crazy.

Not only is Richard haunted by the events of that horrible night, he finds out through the police that Russel’s father, Ben Russel, was recently paroled, and may be looking for revenge. Shit gets REALLY dark, twisted, and violent from this point on, as Lansdale takes you on a tour of the seedier side of this Texas town. There’s a private investigator named Jim Bob Luke who knows kung fu & drives a big classic car called Red Bitch, an angry mailman, illicit grave digging, shootouts, bootleg videotapes, and more!

As always, Lansdale delivers a book full of surprises, and incredibly vivid characters. Cold in July is a book that goes to some really dark places, for sure. But it’s also balanced by Lansdale’s unique brand of humor & banter. I know that me loving a Joe R. Lansdale book is about the least surprising thing in the world, but there you have it. The guy is just a fucking master storyteller, and having a shelf full of his books to read continues to be a tremendous source of joy for me!