The Wanderer by Fritz Leiber. Loved it. It's dated, of course, being more than 40 years old, but the way it was written and the way the story unfolded was just wonderful. lwe says he's one of the five best fantasists on the 20th century, and I'm beginning to see why.
Killing Floor by Lee Child. The first Jack Reacher novel, and while it was okay, I won't be reading any more of them. It had a pleasant about of action and I-do-my-research realism, but the plot hinged on a coincidence so colossal that I couldn't believe it for a second. Also, all mysteries are filled with little moments that later turn out to be crucial to the plot, but this book had absolutely nothing in it that wasn't somehow plot-related. It made the whole thing constricted and airless, and I finished it without much pleasure.
I know Lee Child is a popular author. If anyone out there likes him and thinks he hit his stride in a later book, lemme know.
Tokyo Suckerpunch by Isaac Adamson. I'm only a third of the way through this one, but I'm really enjoying it. It's outlandish, absurd, pulp fun about a journalist in Tokyo covering the under-19 world handicapped martial arts championship, who gets caught up in some kind of weird plot involving a dead friend and a gorgeous geisha. The book so far has been pleasingly ridiculous. How else to describe a book that spends 8 pages on conflicting ideas about the relative dangers of taking stairs or elevators?