You've been here before. Readers who are familiar with Gary Braunbeck's fiction will find themselves in familiar territory when they turn to page one of his new Leisure release, Coffin Country. Braunbeck has once again created a work that sets him apart from mid-list and big name writers alike by weaving a complex and intricate plot, involving profoundly authentic characters. Cedar Hill is as American as apple pie, but as deadly as poison. The novel commences with two men working the midnight shift outside of the coffin factory, when an explosion destroys a chunk of the town. Meanwhile, a killer is on the loose, and has planted gravestones in the cemetery to represent each of his future killings. Like Mr. Hands , the tale told between the book's covers isn't restricted to the title novel itself. Coffin Country includes two short stories, "I'll Play The Blues For You" and "Union Dues" that continue the chilling tale of Cedar Hill.

As always, Braunbeck proves his knack for clean, crisp prose, and intricate plotting, but I couldn't help noticing how much the small touches facilitate an authentic experience. The settings for some significant events seem quite deliberate. The factory. The diner. These locations tell a reader exactly what Cedar Hill is. I've heard some folks say that any story (in a novel, a movie or otherwise) must take place in a bustling metropolis like New York or L.A. to be exciting. Braunbeck handily disproves that theory by using locales that a regular reader uses every day. In this sense, he makes the ordinary extraordinary. As for me, I plan to duck the next time I stop in at the local diner.

To some degree, Braunbeck's examination of the killer's nature piqued my interest. In fact, it reminds me of Thomas Harris trying to convey Hannibal Lecter's motivations, but without the need for several books, and extensive backtracking. In this case, the foreshadowing of the killer's crimes seems to detract from the gravity of their consequences. For example, the reader already knows how many more people the killer will target, because the killer himself has predicted it, and leaves no need to speculate.

Like Mr. Hands , I couldn't help feeling as though the novel is dubiously short, or that something is left unaccomplished. Still, the additional short stories serve an important function in furthering Braunbeck's ongoing tale, and exemplify the effectiveness of his somewhat unconventional approach.

Had Coffin Country ended in a pop quiz, asking for its lasting effect on me, I would say that Braunbeck creates a literary landscape to rival Stephen King's Castle Rock. My own impulse would be to ask what Braunbeck might do with Cedar Hill in the long run. After all, such destruction cannot continue forever. Will he destroy the town as King did with The Rock? What about future generations of Cedar Hill?

Of course, leaving these questions unanswered could well be part of the grand conspiracy to keep those pages turning.