Shadow Man

April 17, 2006
This disturbing serial killer drama set in California marks a promising debut for McFadyen, who combines many conventions of the genre but with far more exquisite, intricate results than the norm. FBI agent Smoky Barrett, a haunted, complicated woman, leads a team of investigators assigned to a serial killer task force. Barrett, who escaped the clutches of a different serial killer a year earlier but lost her husband and daughter in the attack, is now tracking a madman known as "Jack Jr.," who believes he's a descendant of Jack the Ripper. He mauls women, mostly prostitutes with Web sites, then sends the videotapes of the killings to Barrett and her crew. The plot follows a typical arc, complete with some nauseating details and predictable twists. There's also a romance between Barrett and a bodyguard that seems tacked on for future installments. Yet McFadyen's writing is crisp and smart, and his scenes pack a visceral punch without being cheap or exploitative. Barrett, for her part, is a memorable protagonist, a deeply troubled woman trying to move on from tragedy, yet possessing special insight into the criminal mind.

May 1, 2006
Don -t abandon all hope, ye who enter. McFadyen -s debut opens with Special Agent Smoky Barrett in a downward spiral after the murder of her husband and young daughter as well as her own torture, rape, and disfigurement at the hands of a serial killer. One of the driving forces behind her return to the FBI is the emergence of a new serial killer, Jack Jr., who claims to be a descendant of Jack the Ripper. Jack relishes taunting his worthy adversary, Smoky, and her elite team to bring to an end his torture, rape, and murder of women who prostitute themselves over the Internet. As women continue to die and Jack -s crimes become increasingly personal for Smoky and her team, the race is on to determine Jack -s true identity and stop him. Narrated in the first person by Smoky, the mystery builds to a crescendo that leaves the reader with a surprise twist at the finale. Warning: McFadyen doesn -t flinch in his graphic descriptions of violence, so this book is definitely not for the squeamish. Recommended for large public library fiction collections. [See Prepub Alert, "LJ" 2/1/06.]" -Susan O. Moritz, National Gallery of Art Lib., Washington, DC"

Copyright 2006 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

May 1, 2006
A serial killer murdered FBI agent Smokey Barrett's husband and daughter. Smokey killed the fiend but was left deeply scarred. Now, after spending time contemplating suicide, Smokey finds herself drawn back into the game . . . by a new killer who has addressed his latest crime to her personally. First-time novelist McFadyen writes like an old pro, acknowledging the conventions of the serial-killer thriller without being slavishly devoted to them. Smokey, the not-quite-five-foot-tall, sharp-shooting FBI agent, is no standard-issue heroine, and her nemesis, the killer who calls himself Jack Jr., is both chilling and strangely compassionate. A series to watch.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2006, American Library Association.)

August 7, 2006
McFadyen's debut novel has an intriguing premise—FBI Special Agent Smoky Barrett and her team are targeted by a serial killer who believes he's a descendant of Jack the Ripper—but it poses a few problems for reader McCormick. Barrett begins by describing the "cigar-sized" scars on her face and body, which resulted from an attack by a madman a year before that also took the lives of her husband and child. This unpleasantly precise beginning is a harbinger of the ever-increasing, lavishly described incidents of physical and mental violence that propel the novel, which is much less wince-inducing on the page than it is in your ear. McCormick, an intelligent actress who effectively portrays a sympathetic therapist on TV's Law and Order
, elects to deliver this off-putting material in a brusque, almost sardonic manner. If the intent was to undercut the disturbing effect of the prose, it doesn't work. Smoky's best friend and fellow agent, Callie, has a penchant for calling everyone "honey-love," an affectation that even the director of the FBI finds annoying. Thanks to McCormick's exaggerated delivery of the incessantly used phrase, listeners will know exactly how he feels. Simultaneous release with the Bantam hardcover (Reviews, Apr. 17).