Some hill tribes in Northern India are causing a ruckus, so a detachment of the Queen's Rifles are sent to kill the blighters and level their villages.
Graydon is not remotely as good as Kipling for settings, characterizations, or plotting, and he can't touch Robert E. Howard's El Borak stories.
A mediocre story.
An astounding jewel disappears from the neck of the hostess during a yachting dinner party. For some reason, the detective involved consults with a wealthy jewel-collecting super sleuth who solves the crime after an incredible amount of stalling to draw out the story.
It is a compassionate look at the struggles of the very wealthy. The sleuth's reason for collecting jewels is complete codswallop.
A remarkably good book with a horrible title and cover. The opening part with the bumbling professor and his wife is a bit slapstick, but once Hugo is born, it becomes his story. He is blessed with super strength and speed, and almost invulnerable. He tries to hide his abilities and blend in.
At the university, at sea, in war, in business--his attempts to control his gifts brings him misery.
This novel isn't The Sun Also Rises, but it shares the post WWI/depression era existential disillusionment with war, politics, and business, as Hugo looks for a reason to live. The writing is good and unobtrusive, the novel is completely character-driven and has the same kind of random-adventure plotting as Candide or Don Quixote. The purported foul language and sex is trivial.
Four rich and terribly proper English couples meet at the Battersby's for dinner and to view Battersby's marvellous new acquisition: the world's only green diamond. The host drops the consarned thing, and it can't be found.
The story is trivial nonsense. When conflict starts to make the trudge interesting, a ridiculous plot twist steps in to save the story from any significance at all.
I've enjoyed dental appointment more.