Not a bad end to the series (or the first major arc; the author could return to it), but the conclusion does feel a bit abrupt. There's nothing specific I can point to as to why I gave it three stars instead of four, other than that it just felt rather perfunctory as a novel. There were some pretty big possibilities that only got skimmed over, and the lead character spends a bit too much time in the dark, being led around by his nose by the plot.

All things considered, it may not be a bad idea to let sleeping dogs lie here. ( )

The fourth in a series, this work has a smart plot and excellent character development. The "regulars" from the other stories are familiar and continue to be themselves fully, and the new characters are complex and full of surprises. Who can be trusted? Mason (the practitioner protaganist) and Lou (the canine Ifriti) make a dynamic duo that complement each other's abilities and personalities. I laughed out loud multiple times at Lou's confident, doggie-Ifriti behavior that enhances magical events, protects Mason and others, and confounds enemies. The author has small dog behavior down! I enjoyed the jazz scenes (knowing jazz musicians), and the small humorous details (e.g., calling fake books, "real books"). Music connects much of the action, and the writing supports a melodic and cacaphonic pace. San Francisco plays a role, and those familiar with The City will enjoy walking along its familiar streets and paths (usually). I heard a rumor that this may be the last book in the series, and the ending hangs, so who knows. I hope not because I enjoy these books. ( )

It is a special pleasure when an author draws both the mundane and the fantastic into their writing. In this fourth installment in the Dog Days series, John Levitt thrilled me with the magical world he created, the mystery that drives the plot, and a number of sweet little details about the day to day of being a musician.

And Mason needed all the improv skills he could muster to unravel the threats he faced. The mystery elements of PLAY DEAD held hints of our favorite Chicago wizard, if only because Mason shared Harry Dresden’s inability to see danger in the form of a beautiful woman. Levitt does a good job of making the story his own, however, and I found the similarities with Dresden superficial if anything. I wouldn’t have minded a bit more of Dresden, though, when Mason had moments of immaturity where he exposed himself to additional danger. While these episodes didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the book, they certainly helped me understand why all the women in Mason’s life are of the ex- variety.

The one relationship Mason seems to do well with maintaining is his partnership with Lou, his canine Ifrit companion. I particularly liked that, despite being a mysterious magical creature, Lou was still a dog that loves bacon, squirrels, and bad smells. Lou sometimes has a hard time getting his blockhead owner to understand what he was “saying,” and I thought that added a great dynamic between him and Mason. Rather than taking all the guess work out of the mystery, Lou added another level of interpretation for Mason (and thus the reader) to navigate.

Playing along with Lou and Mason was both a satisfying read and a great introduction to the Dog Days world. While I’m not yet ready to commit to a pre-order, I am going to head back to the eponymous first book, DOG DAYS, to see where Lou and Mason got their start.

Sexual Content: A mildly graphic sex scene. ( )

Unbelievably, Levitt captures the essence of dogs and their magical qualities even better in Play Dead than the previous books in the series. Lou is *always* a dog, ever ready to abandon Mason for a quick snack of bacon or ham–but ever mindful that he is Mason’s protection, friend, and loyal companion. There is something more to Lou, just like most dogs; that keen intelligence that shines from their eyes, the unquestioning loyalty and a happiness that radiates. Lou may be an Ifrit, but as you read Play Dead, you start to believe that…just maybe, all good dogs have a little Ifrit in them. From the tilt of his head to Lou’s fierce defense of Mason, he is a dog, he is magic, and his is a story that is easy to love.

Mason is Mason; he’d be more admirable if he weren’t *quite* so careless, but he gets talked into things too easily, whether it’s a job or the fact that no one in their right might should donate even a drop of blood to a black practitioner–not in the name of learning, not in the name of…anything. Because in the end, forwarding black magic always goes bad. It isn’t that Mason is stupid, but his decision-making borders on “for the sake of the plot” in a couple of instances. Mason redeems himself just in time…only to get careless again, in a cycle that has the reader wanting him to just once keep it all together. One of the things that saves the plot is that Levitt takes the time to draw complex characters; ones you aren’t sure are all bad. In fact, you see the good. Just like in real life, you’re dealing with lots of variables and lots of hope. And Mason has stayed in character throughout the series; he’s basically a good guy, and he means well, he just sometimes wants annoyances to go away so he does something “quick” instead of smart.

Mason really shines in his love of music and improvising spells. He’s unique in the way his magic is layered, and Levitt always takes time to create the magic rather than wave a wand–you’re there, you’re watching the elements come together like the notes come together in a song. There’s no sloppiness there, and I love the cleverness.

Levitt is the only writer I read or have read who makes the villain entirely too human. Instead of feeling a complete lack of empathy–hatred even–for the bad guys, when the time comes for justice, you feel their pain. You watch their loss with a sense of…but if only. The villains are evil, sometimes insane–but you know who they are, how they got where they are and the complex good and bad inside each character. You may not like them, but the sense of loss is there nonetheless. This is a skill that captures war or death as the real necessary evil–even as we suddenly realize that the guy on the other side could be us and is us.

The mystery plot is always good; there are miscellaneous clues here and there brought together in a knot that gets tighter throughout the book rather than tied neatly at the end. This book also visits “fantasy” with a touch of quest without the urban, but it works.

There’s talk/rumor that this might be the last in the series; that would be a shame because there’s still a lot of heart and soul here. There’s a magic that merges the real world into something special. This will no doubt make my top ten of the year, not because it is perfect but because, in the end, this book ended with such poignancy, I couldn’t help but love it.

And Mr. Levitt, you owe me a pan of brownies. Mine seem to have overcooked while I was reading. ( )