Sometimes the favorites just flat out let you down. Authors that you can count on to deliver at least a halfway decent read just don't. Two cases in point:
Last weekend I finished Nevada Barr's BORDERLINE. This book has Anna on vacation in Big Bend which is a place I know something about. Beyond massive geographical rearrangements (some of which she admitted to and others she ignored so one isn't sure if she has even been there) the plot, wooden characters, and twin storylines bordered on the absurd. I kept reading and reading, hoping that it would get better. It didn't.
Tonight, after 150 pages of mediocre story, cardboard characters, and plot stupidity, I have thrown in the towel on Thomas Perry's RUNNER. The latest Jane Whitefield novel is hideous. I refuse to waste any more time on this very bad book.