1st to Die
James Patterson, 2001
Mystery, thriller & crime Contemporary fiction
A San Francisco homicide inspector and her three friends—a medical examiner, a reporter, an assistant DA—track a killer whose victims are newlyweds. A grieving detective's voice carries this fast crime story, with short chapters, bursts of dark humor, and a warm circle of friends.
Feels like longing, tenderness and dread. About society, time and friendship.
Who it’s for
You may like it if you enjoy crime thrillers built around a close group of women professionals and a narrator who wears her grief openly. The very short chapters keep the pace brisk, but the personal, sometimes sentimental asides may test readers who want a steady procedural.
Why read it
It gives you a quick, character-led mystery where friendship and loss sit close to the investigation, and the short chapters make it easy to keep going.
A page from the book
The friends who would hold you, and the voice that stops you calling.
As I stare into the Border collie’s eyes, I think that maybe I should go inside and call the girls. Claire, Cindy, and Jill would be here almost before I hung up the phone. They would hold me, hug me, say all the right things. You’re special, Lindsay. Everybody loves you, Lindsay. James Patterson.Before novels, Patterson ran the advertising agency J. Walter Thompson; he has said he learned to make every chapter short enough to finish in a waiting room.
Books that feel like this
More by James Patterson
Kiss the Girls
James Patterson, 1979
James Patterson’s second Alex Cross thriller: short chapters, a killer’s taunting voice, and a case that keeps changing shape.
Where to get it
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Questions readers ask
- Is 1st to Die for me?
- You may like it if you enjoy crime thrillers built around a close group of women professionals and a narrator who wears her grief openly. The very short chapters keep the pace brisk, but the personal, sometimes sentimental asides may test readers who want a steady procedural.
- What is 1st to Die like?
- A grieving detective's voice carries this fast crime story, with short chapters, bursts of dark humor, and a warm circle of friends. Feels like longing, tenderness and dread. About society, time and friendship.
- What should I read after 1st to Die?
- If you liked 1st to Die, try The Institute (Stephen King), The Tenant (Freida McFadden) and Smiley's People (John le Carré).
A taste of the feed
The most dangerous people are the ones who sigh at bad news.
There was a perfunctory knock at the door, and then Rosalind stuck her head in, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but it’s Fred Clark, asking to see you. He seems-” “Refresh me. Who is Fred Clark?” Mrs. Sigsby took off her reading glasses and rubbed the sides of her nose. “One of the janitors.” “Find out what he wants and tell me later. If we’ve got mice chewing the wiring again, it can wait. I’m busy.” “He says it’s important, and he seems extremely upset.” Mrs. Sigsby sighed, closed the folder, and put it in a drawer. “All right, send him in. But this had better be good.” It wasn’t. It was bad. Very.
The Institute · Stephen King
The first rule of retirement, as preached by the people who never retire.
You remember the first rule of retirement, George? No moonlighting, no fooling with loose ends, no private enterprise, ever. You remember who preaches this rule, at Sarratt, in the corridors? George Smiley did. Quote, “When it’s over, it’s over. Pull down the shutters, go home,” unquote. We’re over, George. We’ve got no license. They don’t want us anymore.
Smiley's People · John le Carré
The private prayer of anyone who has ever watched a perfect clique from outside.
I quietly prayed for the hug implosion all year last year. That their ardent squeezing might cause the flesh to ooze from the sleeves, neckholes, and A‑line hems of their cupcake dresses like so much inane frosting. That they would get tangled in each other’s Game of Thrones hair, choked by the ornate braids they were forever braiding into each other’s heart‑shaped lit‑ tle heads. That they would choke on each other’s blandly grassy perfume. Never happened. Not once.
Bunny · Mona Awad
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