Jax Miller’s debut thriller Freedom’s Child remixes biker culture, religious cults, and criminal drama
Jax Miller’s debut
thriller Freedom’s Child from Harper Collins remixes
biker culture, religious cults, and criminal drama to deliver a fresh
one-two punch of page turning fun. This is not a true crime thriller,
instead it is at once an over-the-top redemption story, a rant
against staunch conservatism, an elegy for parenthood, and a
kidnapping mystery. Who took Freedom’s Child? If you
are a fan of crime novels, action, and misunderstood anti-heroes
chances are you will read through your lay-over, or spend the
afternoon on the beach flipping pages to answer that very question.
Redemption, we love
it when someone hits bottom, makes a profound change, and comes out
the other end transformed. Freedom Oliver’s real name is Vanessa
Delaney, and she’s in the witness protection program for killing
her husband. She’s crude, rude, misunderstood, and drinks like a
fish. She also speaks her mind, acts independently, and is
emotionally tortured for giving up custody of her kids when she was
briefly incarcerated for killing her husband. She’s stuck in
Painter, Oregon, tending bar at a biker hangout, populated by
colorful characters, notably Passion, a middle aged prostitute with a
heart of gold.
Freedom’s hard to
handle, goes on her nerve, and is socially unfit. There’s kind of
an aw-shucks, don’t worry about her--that’s just Freedom being
Freedom-- fish out of water humor that undercuts the emotional trauma
of her rape at the hands of her brother-in-law, and the rippling
shock of having given up her kids, which is what readers will find
sympathetic, and endearing about the character.
When the action
opens she’s broken and off her meds, just as her brother in law is
released from prison, and when her daughter, Rebekah, disappears.
Freedom framed her brother-in-law, Matthew, and he wants revenge.
He’s good looking and evil, and belongs to a twisted family led by
Lynn, an obese matriarch who gives new meaning to the word slovenly.
The Delaney’s want Freedom to suffer for killing Mark, and framing
Matthew, and needless to say as the plot unwinds the real killer of
Mark is revealed as the twisted Delaney’s get their just desserts.
The real villains
aren’t the Delaney’s however, Virgil Paul and his cult of
ultra-conservative Third Day Adventists are the real face of banal
evil. Virgil, and his stepford wife, Carol, have adopted Ethan and
Layla, Freedom’s children, and have raised them in their compound,
which over the years has grown more and more conservative, and
creepy. Re-christened Mason and Rebekah, the children grow up under
the bright lights of the revival ministry. As Virgil’s ministry
grows, so does his capacity for evil. Mason longs for college and is
ex-communicated for his desire for an education, but simple Rebekah
stays, and is wrapped up in Virgil’s twisted plot. Early in the
novel Rebekah vanishes from a biker bar near the compound, which
sends Mason, and Freedom speeding back to Goshen, Kentucky to save
their loved one. Of course Mason and Freedom aren’t aware of their
concurrent searches for Rebekah, but eventually the knot of action
brings them together. Freedom’s redemptive story is echoed in
Mason’s sub-plots; all Mason wants to do is prove himself. Even
Freedom’s love interest, Officer Mattley, has his own little
redemptive plot line to fulfill as he is pulled into the action via
Freedom’s self-destructive actions.
But the heart of the
novel is the desire for family. Family, for the most part is
presented as a perversion in the novel: The Delaneys, the Pauls,
officer Mattley’s broken marriage, the Custis’s--innocent in-laws
of the Pauls. All of these characters have either twisted family, or
live with a broken one. The families that work, or at the very least
show compassion, are the families made up of like-minded connections,
or friendships: Passion and Freedom, Peter and Freedom, the Amalekite
and Magdaline, the Native Americans, and of course Mattley and
Freedom. For these characters family is something to cherish and love
and protect. Don’t let the violence, sex, and blood fool you, what
matters most to Freedom is family, and through the course of the
novel she gets her chance to forge her own family through fire.
The plot is a loose
tangled knot of people chasing Freedom, Freedom chasing her daughter,
the feds chasing the pastor, Freedom chasing the pastor, the feds
chasing Freedom, etc. The colorful characters play their tropes well,
the rednecks, the bikers, the skinheads, the dopey US Marshals, the
tough women, even the wise, visionary Native Americans. And for the
most part Miller avoids cliche through Freedom’s raunchy but
likeable voice, and plenty of sarcasm. It’s a darker, seedier, more
gratuitously violent Stephanie Plum adventure, save Freedom is on the
criminal side of the action. Freedom’s Child is a hard R, perhaps
even (rated) MA for mature, as Miller delivers the goods on the
grunge and the creep factor. There’s a more or less happy ending,
depending how you take your thrills, and is a snappy read for beach
fun, or airport layovers. Freedom’s Child is a
strong debut from a new voice. You can practically hear the hard-rock
soundtrack blaring over the roar of the motorcycles.
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