by Barry Lyga
After Billy was caught, Jazz became determined to remember people are important. That they matter.
He can’t help but be drawn to murder, though. Especially when a body turns up in a local field.
I Hunt Killers is, thus far, one of my favorite reads of the year (Which, granted, isn’t very many. I’ve been slacking. Whoops). Holy geez. Creepy, intense, gory, funny – if you like these things, pick it up immediately.
Jazz (full name: Jasper) is Complex. Capital C. He doesn’t want to be a killer like his father. But, and he admits this – if only to himself, the impulses are there. He was raised to think of people as potential targets. As things. Not as living, breathing, contributing humans. But Jazz tries. He has a best friend, he has a girlfriend and he constantly tries to remind himself that people matter. (So do his friends. It’s very Nature vs. Nurture.)
The star, in my eyes, however, was Howie. Jazz’s hemophiliac best friend. How much do I love him? Let me count the ways. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Howie will become the coolest hemophiliac in literature since Prince Alexei (of Romanov fame). I just…I can’t. I can’t explain how awesome he is. And how awesome he and Jazz are together. Ugh. I can’t stand it.
The mystery was so well done, as well. Lots and lots of intrigue. Bodies piling up left and right. Tension. Watching Jazz attempt to put the pieces together and getting more and more frustrated when he can’t was awesome.
Just. So good, guys. So very good (if you don’t mind gore. Lyga does not shy away from the horror side at all). The ending is def. set up for a series. So, yay! More Howie!
The only issue is people may struggle to connect with Jazz. I think it’s natural to be repelled from people constantly thinking about murdering people. There is also A LOT of information to process and, likely, we only are getting a bit of it. So, fair warning there.
Really, though. Loved. Team Howie!
How this book came into my world: ARC, courtesy of the publisher
Published by: Little, Brown.