Devi Nair
I dove into Killers of a Certain Age with stars in my eyes. Women in their 60s as elite assassins? Yes, please! The premise promised a fresh spin on the thriller genre, blending experience with undercover grit.
But a few chapters in, my hype hit a wall. Instead of the seasoned, cohesive team I expected, Billy, Mary Alice, Helen, and Natalie came off like typical old people trying to relive their "cool" days boasting "I could've done that better" without actually doing it. Their constant bickering, and really silly mistakes (while undercover, mind you!) felt like a teenage clique, not a squad with decades of shared covert ops experience. Why the need to one-up each other like they're auditioning for a superhero flick? The insecurity in their 60s felt jarring like, haven't you proven yourselves after 40 years? The plot had sparks: a betrayal-fueled retirement cruise, dodging the Museum's hit squad, and some clever twists. But the action often took a backseat to their peacocking, which dulled the suspense.
Raybourn's writing had wit, and the ladies' backstories hint at depth, but the focus on their "who's the coolest" contest left me craving more substance. There's a second book in the series, Kills Well with Others, but I wouldn't dare take on that challenge.
Originally posted at viewsshewrites.wordpress.com.
I dove into Killers of a Certain Age with stars in my eyes. Women in their 60s as elite assassins? Yes, please! The premise promised a fresh spin on the thriller genre, blending experience with undercover grit.
But a few chapters in, my hype hit a wall. Instead of the seasoned, cohesive team I expected, Billy, Mary Alice, Helen, and Natalie came off like typical old people trying to relive their "cool" days boasting "I could've done that better" without actually doing it. Their constant bickering, and really silly mistakes (while undercover, mind you!) felt like a teenage clique, not a squad with decades of shared covert ops experience. Why the need to one-up each other like they're auditioning for a superhero flick? The insecurity in their 60s felt jarring like, haven't you proven yourselves after 40 years? The plot had sparks: a betrayal-fueled retirement cruise, dodging the Museum's hit squad, and some clever twists. But the action often took a backseat to their peacocking, which dulled the suspense.
Raybourn's writing had wit, and the ladies' backstories hint at depth, but the focus on their "who's the coolest" contest left me craving more substance. There's a second book in the series, Kills Well with Others, but I wouldn't dare take on that challenge.
Originally posted at viewsshewrites.wordpress.com.