Long Review
In Killer Art, CL Thomas returns to the damaged world of private investigator Bruce Westman and the people orbiting his violent orbit, and immediately drops the reader back into a life frayed by trauma, addiction, and unfinished business. Bruce wakes up hungover in his beat-up Ford, still haunted by Iraq and the events of a prior case; teenager Matthew Shovinski is trying to live with the fact that he once pulled a trigger to save his sister; and Detective Jeffrey Westman, Bruce’s brother, is grinding through the uglier side of domestic violence cases. Into this already dark mix comes a new threat: a meticulous killer whose relationship with violence is framed as “art,” and whose history of escalating cruelty is revealed in deeply unsettling detail.
The book operates as a character-driven crime thriller layered over a procedural investigation. The narrative moves between Bruce, Matthew, Jeffrey, FBI Agent Shelby, and the killer himself, giving a multifaceted view of both the investigation and the emotional fallout surrounding it. The sections with Bruce are particularly strong: his war trauma, alcoholism, and awkward steps toward connection (including a tentative, reluctant romantic possibility with another man) create a flawed but compelling center of gravity. Matthew’s therapy sessions with Father Murphy and his basketball games behind the church add warmth and humanity, even as the nightmares of his first killing refuse to let him go. The law enforcement sequences—Jeffrey at his desk, the bullpen politics, the FBI consultation—ground the story in a familiar procedural rhythm that crime readers will recognize immediately.
Thematically, Killer Art is preoccupied with what violence does to people—victims, perpetrators, and the ones caught in between. The early section that shows the killer’s childhood cruelty to animals is intentionally hard to stomach, yet it clearly establishes a pattern of dehumanization and control that later plays out in his murders. Scenes involving sex work, drug dependency, and domestic abuse strip away sentimentality; this is a world where life is cheap and bodies are often treated as objects. Against that backdrop, the book searches for small redemptive threads: a priest who actually listens, a neighbor who still cares enough to knock on a car window, a brother who keeps calling even when he’s being cursed at. Those threads keep the narrative from descending into pure nihilism.
Stylistically, Thomas favors clear, direct prose with an emphasis on sensory detail—smells, textures, bodily discomfort, and the grime of everyday life. The violence, when it appears, is often graphic and described in vivid, concrete language rather than being implied off-page. Dialogue leans into rough banter and profanity, which suits the characters and setting but may be abrasive to some readers. Structurally, the book unfolds in a mostly linear fashion, cutting between point-of-view characters to build suspense and widen the scope of the mystery. This multi-POV approach allows for strong momentum once the investigation in the Bronx gets moving and the killer’s pattern becomes clearer.
The book’s greatest strengths lie in its character work and emotional texture. Bruce’s mix of competence and self-destruction feels authentic; Matthew’s guilt and fear ring true for a teenager who did something both heroic and horrifying; and side characters, from Father Murphy to Agent Shelby, are given enough nuance to avoid feeling like stock types. Readers who enjoy dark, psychologically grounded crime fiction will likely find themselves fully engaged.
However, the same elements that will draw some readers in will push others away. The graphic animal cruelty in the killer’s origin sequence and the later depictions of domestic and sexual violence are intense and may be too much for more sensitive readers. The book is unapologetically grim, and its focus on trauma, addiction, and exploitation provides little in the way of light relief outside a few pockets of banter and small acts of kindness. The pacing can also feel heavy early on, as time is spent immersing the reader in backstory and internal turmoil before the central investigation fully locks into place.
Taken as a whole, Killer Art is a dark, emotionally charged crime thriller that prioritizes psychological depth and the cost of violence over puzzle-box plotting. It is not a gentle read, but it is a committed one: readers who appreciate unflinching depictions of trauma, morally complicated protagonists, and a serial killer narrative that delves into how someone learns to see life as “art” to be destroyed will find this a strong, memorable entry in the genre. Those looking for a lighter mystery or who prefer violence to remain mostly off-page should approach with caution.
Short Review
Killer Art follows damaged PI Bruce Westman, traumatized teen Matthew Shovinski, and a weary circle of cops and clergy as they confront a new serial killer whose escalating violence is framed as “art.” The story weaves together Bruce’s alcoholism and PTSD, Matthew’s lingering guilt over a past shooting, and an investigation that reaches from Connecticut to the Bronx, where vulnerable women are targeted with clinical precision.
CL Thomas leans into graphic, sensory detail and multi-POV structure, creating a gritty crime thriller that feels lived-in and emotionally heavy. The character work is the standout: Bruce’s fractured attempts at connection, Matthew’s therapy sessions and nightmares, and the killer’s chilling origin all carry a strong psychological charge. At the same time, the content is intense—animal cruelty, domestic abuse, sexual exploitation, and addiction are depicted in unflinching terms.
This is a book for readers who want their crime fiction dark, raw, and character-driven rather than cozy or puzzle-focused. Fans of serial killer procedurals with a strong psychological bent will find plenty to engage with here, while more sensitive or squeamish readers may prefer to steer clear.
One-Sentence Review
A grim, psychologically charged crime thriller, Killer Art blends damaged-but-compelling characters, graphic violence, and a methodical investigation into a serial killer who treats murder as “art,” delivering a dark, emotionally resonant read.
Book Rating
📘📘📘📘 – Strongly Recommended: A dark, character-driven crime thriller with vivid prose and emotionally complex leads that will satisfy readers of gritty serial-killer fiction, though its graphic violence and heavy themes limit its appeal to more resilient audiences.
Pull Quotes (1–2)
- “A grim, psychologically charged crime thriller that treats violence not as spectacle but as a corrosive force scarring everyone it touches.”
- “Bruce Westman and Matthew Shovinski anchor the story with raw, haunted humanity, turning Killer Art into more than a simple serial killer hunt.”
Content Notes
- Language: Frequent strong profanity, including repeated use of the f-word; occasional slurs and degrading language, especially from abusive and predatory characters.
- Violence: Moderate to graphic violence, including detailed animal cruelty, on-page murder, severe domestic assault, and scenes of physical and sexualized harm.
- Sexual Content: On-page but non-graphic and mildly graphic sexual content, including sex work, an explicit oral sex encounter, and references to rape and sexual exploitation.
- Drugs/Alcohol: Regular alcohol use and abuse (including binge drinking and functional alcoholism), depiction of drug dependence among sex workers, and general substance use in criminal environments.
- Sensitive Topics: PTSD and war trauma, childhood cruelty, animal cruelty, homicide, kidnapping, rape and domestic violence, sex trafficking, addiction, religious guilt, and ongoing psychological distress.
ReadSafe Rating
- Rating: R
- Labels: EL, V, SC, DA, ST
- Explanation: The book contains frequent strong profanity (EL), graphically described violence including torture of animals, severe domestic assault, and on-page killings (V). Sexual content includes an explicit oral sex scene, references to rape, and ongoing sexual exploitation within a sex-work and trafficking context (SC). Alcohol abuse is a recurring element in the protagonist’s life, and drug use and dependency are depicted among secondary characters (DA). Sensitive topics such as PTSD, trauma, animal cruelty, kidnapping, rape, and domestic violence are central to the narrative and described in significant detail (ST).