Way back in 2015, I found W. H. Clark’s first novel, and praised it in these words:

The book under consideration here is an example of a type of novel I like very much. It’s a “small” mystery, localized and character-driven. No international conspiracies; no shadowy government agents. 

In 2022, I reviewed his second novel positively, though I complained that it was rather dark.

My imagination suggests to me that author Clark must have seen my 2015 review and hated it, because he seems to have designed his third novel, Made in Blood, to counter almost everything I said in praise in my first review. Made in Blood is a far-flung mystery, covering a lot of territory. It concentrates on international conspiracies and shadowy government agents. (I’ll concede that it was pretty character-driven, though.)

“Ward,” (he never explains whether it’s his first or last name), our continuing hero, was once a sniper in the Afghanistan war. Later he was a Texas Ranger, and now he’s a cop in Montana. He’s still recovering from the trauma of his last case when he gets cryptic phone call from a stranger. He immediately understands the message. His old friend, his one-time Army spotter Randall, has been killed. It will now be Ward’s job to avenge him.

The story that follows ranges episodically over a lot of country and time. Periods of inactivity will be punctuated with violence, abductions, and torture. Long flashbacks will tell us what happened to him in Afghanistan. Ward will kill men. Women will flirt with him, but he’ll brush them off. He will uncover an ugly story of war profiteering, political corruption, and ruthless terrorism.

I found Made in Blood a little implausible. The character of Randall was so extreme as to challenge belief. The fact that the author strayed into politics did not charm me, though I stayed with the story to the ending – an ending which I found just creepy.

On the plus side, the writing, as always before, was quite good. Though the author is English, he handles American idiom extremely well – except that he seems not to know that what he calls a “catapult” is known as a slingshot over here.

I’m done with W. H. Clark. He’s a good writer, but I’m not interested in what he’s selling these days.