Jack Reacher is one part tumbleweed and two parts brick shithouse. If you told me I’d be captivated by an ex-military policeman who wanders the continental US dispensing his own brand of justice, I’d kick you in your concealed carry permits. And yet, each time, Child delivers a captivating mystery and a hell of a hero in Jack Reacher. He’s brains and brawn, and he fucks up enough to make each book worth watching him get to the end.
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You had me at “one part tumbleweed.” I’ve had a love/hate relationship with Reacher/Child in the last few years (there was one novel that was such undiluted revenge porn that I wanted to puke afterwards) but like you, I come back for more every time. Child and Coben, I just can’t quit you.