"Thou shalt not kill" is a largely universal rule across most countries and creeds. But, like all things, there is some nuance to it. Okay if the system seeks that penalty in the form of justice; bad if one individual brings down the hammer. For Michael, the contract killer at the center of BIRDS OF PREY DON'T SING, the people who die by his hand mostly deserve it. It's the same with the people chosen to take the fall for the murders: two birds, one stone.
Over the years, Michael has become a master of disguise by learning from tradesmen in the entertainment industry (a clever use of the LA setting). He knows he's one of the best in his field. Despite the need for subterfuge in his line of work, the character strays toward the grandiose and symbolic—from the very act of leaving behind a surviving victim of sorts to the operating name he's chosen for himself. Atropos, the Greek fate known for cutting the thread of life, is a more than appropriate name for someone making a living doing just that. But it's a calling card, not a disappearing act. Nuanced and contradictory enough to feel real, Cary's Michael drives the novel literally and figuratively. Every chapter is uniquely marked by a word as defined by the character, like "Pain" for chapter 6: "the body's opinion of the brain's decisions."
The writing style in BIRDS OF PREY DON'T SING is just as hard to pin down as the main character. At times, the novel reads like a crime noir: short, choppy sentences full of action and sardonic humor. Even a line about porta potties (or since the character isn't from America originally, porta johns) stands out: "He'd rather piss in his helmet than one of those rancid shit coffins." At other points, the sentences feel almost elegant, especially when Michael opines on what drives him. That's not to say there aren't issues though, particularly in an introductory scene with the hitman's main foil. Clunky and sometimes verging toward information dumping, some of the scenes from other points of view than the main character don't execute as well.
BIRDS OF PREY DON'T SING nevertheless features a peerless premise and an eccentric, complex main character—elevating itself above others in the genre. (Also, and most thriller readers would enjoy this, but know that suicidal ideation and an attempt make up part of the story.)
Even as he tries to pin a murder on God, Joe Cary's crafted hitman at the center of BIRDS OF PREY DON'T SING has enough gravitas to keep things grounded.
~ Lisbeth Ivies for IndieReader