Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are as gods to me. I worship them. The brilliant Brimstone–the first in the Diogenes Trilogy within their eerie, compelling thrillers that feature FBI Special Agent Aloysius Pendergast–enthralled me from page one. Preston and Child are erudite without being stuffy. They scare the hell out of a girl without resorting to the cheap or lurid. And their prose is to die for.

I’m in mad love with the eccentric, intellectual, deliciously Southern Pendergast. For two years, I’ve been on tenterhooks since Preston and Child stranded him and his protégée Constance Green in a remote Tibetan monastery at the end of The Wheel of Darkness. Imagine my joy when the latest installment in Pendergast’s adventures, Cemetery Dance, arrived last week.

This isn’t the best of Preston and Child. Never ones to balk at risks, they kill off one of my favorite recurring characters up front. I forgave them for that. Reluctantly, but I did forgive them. His demise drives the story that centers around a secretive cult, animal sacrifice, and zombiis. Their plots are always beautifully planned and their pacing is taut, but something’s a little off here. I didn’t feel the suspense as much. Maybe they were tired after each wrote a bestselling book of his own between the last Pendergast novel and this one.

Special Agent Pendergast is in New York City to investigate. But what’s happening to Constance back in Tibet? There’s only one reference to her here. These guys must love torturing their readers as much as they do their characters. I hope they’re not going to make me wait another two years to find out.  

Cemetery Dance may not be Preston and Child at the top of their game, but it’s still a ripping good yarn. And I do love them so.