FINCH is one of my favorite books.
I can’t understand why it hasn’t been made into a series, or why there aren’t more people running through the streets, thrusting a copy of FINCH upon random strangers exclaiming “You need to read this!”
Ok. That last one was maybe a bit much.
It’s about a detective, Finch, in a city infected and ruled over by fungal beings called gray caps. Everything is very odd and fungal, including gadgets.
The following is a description of a gun, and really gives a taste of the weirdness of the book.
Finch took his gun from its holster. Recoiled from the touch of the grip. “For Truff’s sake,” Finch said. Laid it on his desk with a squelch. The gun had been issued by the gray caps. Dark green exoskeleton, soft interior. Its guts stained his hand. Reloading didn’t seem like an option. It had been seeping a lot lately. “I wonder if it’s dying on me,” Finch said.
I’ve read Finch about five times now, it’s that good.
If you like fungal urban fantasy detective noir, that is.
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