Oh man... this one was pretty bad.  The writing in this book is really terrible, full of phrases like "A roomful of deadly drug." or "You know, sometimes I think Someone up there really hates me."  Wah waaaah.  Ranging from the cheesy to the grammatically incorrect, reading Jim Butcher was like being forced to sit with a socially awkward middle schooler and listen as he recites an intricate fantasy involving magical wizards and *blush* girls.  Sadly, the concept for this novel is pretty good: wed a tale of gritty noir with urban fantasy.  Unfortunately Jim Butcher gives little evidence that he has ever in fact read anything truly hardboiled and the result is a kinda sorta intimation of what someone might imagine noir to be.  Oh yeah, and once you throw out any interest in the philosophical underpinnings of that genre what you're left with is artificial, amateurish nonsense, which is exactly how I would characterize this novel.<br/><br/>     Then again, the pages flew by and this is his debut... no, nope.  There are so many incredible and well written books in the world.  There is absolutely no reason to read this guy again (or even the first time).  Moving on...