Wow. I'm—whoa.
Okay I think I'm really blown away.

By the premise alone, this does not make sense. Espionage in WWⅡ but with a werewolf? The idea sounds rather silly, if not stupid. But in the hands of Robert R. McCammon, everything flows as glides smoothly like skin on fine silk. This book is robbing me of sleep on working days because I just couldn't stop reading. It is SO, SO GOOD.

McCammon really didn't write stories. He breathed life into them. And they were not mere stories; they were masterpieces.

Many set pieces here felt so grand I felt like I needed to see them in moving pictures, albeit inside my head they were already exceptional. The French Opera fight, the speed battle with the summer train, the combat with the Berserker, and the murder train truly left me biting my fingers with anticipation. Gallatin's every hard-earned victory was always satisfactory because we the readers knew he was not invincible; he bled and could die all the same.

I would continue my journey in reading every single book McCammon ever released. And I really wonder if I will still sing my praise for him each time.

This is a solid five stars to me.