I’ve just finished Michael Connelly’s newest novel, “The Gods Of Guilt,” and the final pages of tense testimony left me shocked, drained and gasping for breath.
“The Gods of Guilt” is courtroom high drama with the explosive tension of a crashing airplane. I haven’t read all of Connelly’s 26 novels, but this has to be one of his best. The ink is still wet on the book, published only two months ago, but the verdict is in.
Michael Connelly, call your accountant. If you’re not already a rich man, “The Gods Of Guilt,” and the movie that will surely follow, will make you one.