Real Tigers (Slough House #3) by Mick Herron

Oh my God, I finished all these books by the 13th! *collapses into oozing puddle before picking up her next work assignment.*

I freaking love Mick Herron, and I’m not sure if there are very many authors I could have binged under such time pressures and still come out wanting more of. I love the Slow Horses so much, and am at the point where I’m sick of both Ingrid and Diana and their jockeying for power that leaves so many corpses behind. Real Tigers was pretty rough on my favorite of the Horses, Catherine Standish. Kidnapped by an old flame to further his mission for revenge, Catherine spends far too much time battling her inner demons… and then Jackson Lamb figuratively sucker punches her at the end. He didn’t have to, but that’s the thing about the denizens of Slough House, dumping ground of MI5’s least capable: they’re all painfully flawed in ways that make their teamwork, never mind success, not necessarily a foregone conclusion. As always, River Cartwright was a disaster from the start, and I’m starting to blame his grandfather for that: the Old Bastard filled River’s head with such tales of derring-do as a child that grown-up River still forgets, to paraphrase Jackson, that he’s part of MI5 and not Famous Five.

But the team muddles, mostly intact, through the task of recovering Catherine and putting at least a pause to the insane shenanigans between Ingrid and Diana, First and Second Desk of MI5. I very much want to read what happens next! These spy thrillers are part procedural, part slapstick and 100% entertaining.

OH MY GOD, NETGALLEY HAS SPOOK STREET AVAILABLE NOW! I’d cry tears of joy if I weren’t so incredibly dried out by the weather rn, but ooh, what a terrific Valentine’s gift to meeee! (I may also be sleep-deprived but seriously, Mr Herron’s writing warrants this glee.)