After her husband is murdered in front of her, Irina the adopted daughter of a Russian gangster finds herself at the centre of plots and intrigue. The only problem is, she isn’t at the centre.
Let me explain.
From Russia with Claws (the first lines)
“Galina Sudenko scanned the sea of vaguely familiar faces. The cream of the crop had turned out in full force at Katya Bulgakov’s Sweet Sixteen party.”
From Russia with Fangs (the first lines)
“If the DJ played one more Russian bubble gum pop song, Irina Sudenko Volkov was going to stab him with a swizzle stick. Well, she would pay someone to stab him with a swizzle stick. Her father had people who did that sort of thing. Irina knew it was wrong to be in such a foul mood at a Sweet Sixteen party.”
So these two books are basically the same story being told from two different perspectives. Book one was Galina, and that was a story. I might have even rated it 5 Stars, I don’t really remember. Book two is Irina, she was a minor character in book one and honestly she’s not really a major player in this book either.
It’s weird reading the perspective of someone who isn’t even a witness to the major events of the story as laid out in book one.
From Russia with Fangs is OK in the same way a Chevrolet Malibu is an OK car. Nobody stops to watch one drive by. Nobody dreams of one day owning a Malibu. Honestly you could park one in a crime hot-spot with the keys in the ignition, the windows down and five bennys fanned out on the front seat…come back in an hour and it will still be there.
And that’s this book. The author is great. One of the best. There just isn’t enough of a story to make it worthwhile.
Orange, Red, Yellow. What it means: YOR-Guide