Personal, a Jack Reacher novel, by Lee Child

I love Jack Reacher.  A real guilty pleasure. Except I hate that term. Why is it a 'guilty' pleasure? Why should such a thing exist? I have touched on this on an earlier blog post. We should never feel guilty for liking something. Enjoyment of anything is a good thing, and although they're not exactly high literature, I really enjoy Reacher novels.
 Big, bad, brutal, brilliant. Reacher books are just like the character himself. Completely and unashamedly aware of themselves, knowing what they are, and where they fit in this world.  This is book 19, and they are only getting better.
 Lee Child is an author so comfortable inside his character every nuance feels so realised, it is almost impossible not to inhabit that world with him.     'Unputdownable' is a word overused in literature reviews, and I have, thus far, refused to dish it out regardless of how much I liked a book. But each and every Reacher novel, and short story Child releases cries out for this descriptor to be thrust in its direction.    A fast-paced thriller, with plenty of action, this does exactly what it promises. It fits a mould, and is the best of that mould.  A formula which works, which Child has, over the 19 books, honed to almost perfection.  A huge fan-base does not happen accidently, and does not happen for bad books.  A great addition to a great series.  Bring on book 20.