I picked up *Foreign Deceit* on a whim, craving something different from my usual British historical novels. From the first page, David Wolf—an ex-army Ranger turned small-town cop—grabbed me with his sharp wit and relentless sense of justice. The rural Colorado setting felt fresh, and the rough-edged storytelling added a raw, immediate vibe I didn’t know I needed.

The plot kicks off when Wolf learns his brother’s "suicide" in Italy smells like murder. Without speaking a word of Italian, he jets off to Lake Como and dives headfirst into an international crime cartel. The clash of American cowboy cop vs. Italian *carabinieri* was pure gold. Sure, solving a crime in a week abroad stretches believability, but the breakneck pace and layered subplots kept me flipping pages until 3 AM.

Carson’s writing is lean and mean—no fluff, just meat-and-potatoes prose. His vivid descriptions of Colorado and the Italian Alps made me feel like I was hiking snowy trails or sipping espresso by Lake Como. Though a few awkward sentences ("three pairs of shoes pointing up the trail"—wait, *shoeprints*?) and editing hiccups ("reigns" vs. "reins") pulled me out momentarily, the story’s momentum bulldozed right over them.

By the end, I was downloading Book 2. Wolf’s world—full of clever villains and deputies like Rachette and Patterson—is one I’m happy to binge. If you love James Patterson’s tough-guy style but crave a dash of alpine intrigue, this debut delivers. Just don’t start it on a work night.