This translated police procedural set in a small town in Italy was atmospheric, medium-paced, and at times very gruesome. The mystery (set in modern day and flashbacks to other time periods) centers around a series of vicious, physical attacks and murders on locals. Detective Superintendent Battaglia is known for her ability to profile and she is having a hard time with this individual. Also related to the case are a group of older school-age kids and their secrets and bond. This is a good read for those who read mysteries with darker twists. This is more of a "whydunnit" than a whodunnit, since there are things readers will not know in order to solve the case along with the detectives.
Most detective stories do not feature older female investigators, so this might be a first for some. She has a contentious relationship with her new inspector, Massimo, which provides some humor. The other coin of the story includes Battaglia's struggles with her diabetes, lapses in memory, and scenes of a painful time in her past. Since this is a series, readers are likely to learn more in future installments.

I listened to the completed audiobook for this review. Thanks to Soho Crime and NetGalley for the e-galley. My reviews and ratings are my own.

TW and CW: blood/gore, death, harmful experiments on humans, mentioned of physical abuse,

This book was recommended to me by a colleague and I am so happy that I downloaded it off Netgalley. The plot was ingenious and the writing was creative. The characters were inventive as well. There were no glaring criticisms that I could find whatsoever.

First of all, this is the first in a murder mystery series. Secondly, the main detective is a woman. I very much enjoy detective series with a strong female lead. This book reminded me of M.J. Arlidge's series, in which there is a headstrong and courageous female detective.

There was so much done right in this novel. I can't wait to read the other books in the series!

Flowers over the inferno by Ilaria Tuti (translated by Ekin Oklap) is full of twists and turns, complex character plots, set in a village full of secrets and hipocrisy. Every character harbors their own secret: villagers and law enforcement alike. The novel raises the age old question of nature vs nurture. There are unlikely alliances and respectful friendships. It tears at our moral compass as children, the most vulnerable in our communities, are victimised and abused.
It is difficult not to empathise with the perpetrator, himself a victim, a protector of those he connects with most closely.
A very well written novel. The underlying plot is a sinister one, yet based on historical evidence. A very good read.

I was actually very surprised by this book. I don't read much adult fiction, as I'm always weeding out novels for my students. This was a book just for me, and I'm not disappointed. This novel was translated from Italian author, so this will be my first time reading a translated novel like this.

What I got back was an intriguing twist on the police procedural novel, featuring lost children, tangled family relationships and, even better, a badass female police officer with Alzheimer’s. This novel was filled with police procedural drama, family secerts, missing children and a kick butt officer with Alzheimer's rounding it out.

Since the book is set in the Alps, that is the primary location of the story. They pull in characters from all over the community to help, and there are so many twists and turns it was hard to keep up as times, but in a good way!

THe killer is brutal, the cops are awesome. Secrets come out and chaos ensues. The Killer actually got my sympathy, and that says a lot for the book! This novel is smart, twisted and as brutal as the mountain winds! 4/5

Small towns filled with secrets and an unlikely detective duo go together like an Aperol spritz before pasta – which is to say, very well. The small town in Illaria Tuti's Flowers Over the Inferno, translated by Ekin Oklap, is located in the northern Italian mountains and the duo in question are two cops sent to solve a startling, eye-gouging murder (I'm being literal here). How well these two investigators pair up is a matter of debate, though.

One of the best parts of Flowers Over the Inferno is the older, gruff superintendent Teresa Battaglia. She is out of shape, diabetic and busy fighting the early stages of Alzheimer's disease — on top of handling a complex case. We sympathize with Battaglia quite naturally, and it's nice to see a cop who isn't slim and sexy chasing after serial killers. Unfortunately, her younger counterpart and new investigator in town, Massimo Marini, seems to exist at the edges of the tale.

In a novel in which both of these characters should have almost equal heft, Marini ends up being superfluous. We learn little of him, except that he's young and can find books in a library. It feels like he's there merely so we can meet Battaglia and marvel at how much he gets scolded.

Small towns filled with secrets and an unlikely detective duo go together like an Aperol spritz before pasta – which is to say, very well. The small town in Illaria Tuti's Flowers Over the Inferno, translated by Ekin Oklap, is located in the northern Italian mountains and the duo in question are two cops sent to solve a startling, eye-gouging murder (I'm being literal here). How well these two investigators pair up is a matter of debate, though.

One of the best parts of Flowers Over the Inferno is the older, gruff superintendent Teresa Battaglia. She is out of shape, diabetic and busy fighting the early stages of Alzheimer's disease — on top of handling a complex case. We sympathize with Battaglia quite naturally, and it's nice to see a cop who isn't slim and sexy chasing after serial killers. Unfortunately, her younger counterpart and new investigator in town, Massimo Marini, seems to exist at the edges of the tale.

In a novel in which both of these characters should have almost equal heft, Marini ends up being superfluous. We learn little of him, except that he's young and can find books in a library. It feels like he's there merely so we can meet Battaglia and marvel at how much he gets scolded.

The highlights: There is a tantalizing weirdness in the flashbacks to a creepy institution that conducted grotesque experiments in the 1970s. That, plus the gory attacks, the identity of the killer, and the ultimate truth about the shenanigans in this quaint village are all original enough to tie the narrative into a whole.

When it works, Flowers Over the Inferno works nicely indeed, and when it doesn't, you are left with enough goodwill to pat it on the back. Italy offers a nice break from all those northern European thrillers, and I did love the closing sentence of the book. I'd buy this book a drink, but maybe not a whole meal. Sometimes, however, that Aperol spritz is all you need, especially in summer.

The first third of Flowers Over the Inferno made me despair. The opening is a bit clunky and as the author set her stage, I found it difficult to become engaged with the story. But I kept at it-- mainly because her descriptions of the landscape create an atmosphere that's at once magical and foreboding. In fact, the landscape becomes a major character in the book. More than anything else, I think it was the transitions between the main narrative and the intermittent chapters taking place in a creepy old building in Austria that caused this reader's troubles-- even though those chapters made the hair stand on the back of my neck along with their mantra of "Observe, record, forget."

Then there are the children: Mathias, Diego, Lucia, and Oliver. The more you learn about them, the more you will admire their resilience, intelligence, and bravery. And when the story finally settles down to the investigation, fasten your seatbelts: Teresa Battaglia is one of the best characters I've come across in a long, long time. In her mid-sixties, Teresa is single, alone (and not enjoying it), overweight, diabetic, and has a razor-sharp intelligence. She does not suffer fools gladly, but you will seldom ever find a character who has more empathy and compassion. As tiny pieces of her backstory are told, your admiration of the woman grows. Her mere presence makes those who stand by her feel stronger; her team is utterly devoted to her. When you add to that mix a city detective who needs more than a bit of training, sparks can fly. But as he learns, Massimo Marini's opinion of Teresa Battaglia changes. In the beginning, each time he underestimates her, she steamrolls right over him, so it's fun to watch their relationship develop.

If not for that clunky beginning, Flowers Over the Inferno would be on my Best Reads of 2019 list, but it comes very, very close. There are supposed to be two more books featuring Teresa Battaglia, and I can't wait to get my hands on them. She is a fantastic character! (Think Vera Stanhope and Ruth Galloway, you fans out there.)

Okay, I think I’m going to have rein in my exuberance, passion and generally ‘gee-that-blew-me-away-ness’ that this book aroused in me. Having already staked a claim for a spot in my Top Ten of the year, I will endeavour to do justice to this frankly incredible book. Bear with me…

The first absolute stand out feature of this book is the character of Teresa Battaglia herself, an older woman battling the twin issues of ageing and physical deterioration. Tuti paints a moving and incredibly touching portrait of this indomitable woman who caught up in an exceptionally distressing and seeming unsolvable case, is battling with her increasing concerns over her mental aptitude, recording her thoughts day by day feeling that they could slip away from her at any time, “what am I if not my thoughts, my memories, my dreams, my hopes for the future? What am I without these feelings, without my dignity?” These sections of the book where Battaglia unloads her consciousness into the written word are incredibly moving, brimming with a self-awareness, and a fluttering sense of mental fortitude that enthrals the reader, and says much about every person’s fear of losing their sense of self.

Partly because of this, she over compensates in the tough exterior she is known for, not suffering fools gladly, and proving a hard taskmaster for her investigating team. The scenes that focus on her repartee with one of the newer members of her squad, who experiences no easy ride from his new boss are particularly barbed, but cut through with wit and a slowly developing sense of acceptance in a play on the pupil and mentor roles. She is, however, bestowed with a remarkable empathy for both victims and the killer saying at one point that “before crossing the point of no return, even a serial killer is a human being in pain. Often abused. Always lonely” which is incredibly prescient as the plot plays out. Tuti cleverly manipulates both Battaglia’s and the readers’ perception of the killer throughout, blurring the lines of moral responsibility, and with a real sense of there but for the grace of God.

As regular readers of my reviews know, landscape is all important in my assessment and enjoyment of the books I read, and this small village overshadowed by forest and mountains in the Alpine region, works completely in harmony with the story. It’s an enclosed community, rife with secrets, and permeated with suspicion and folklore, producing a creepy and chilling backdrop to this murderous tale, “it was like the village had for many years been infected by a dark, tainted humour which had slipped beneath its surface, and festered there, out of sight.” The darkness, density and danger of the surrounding terrain, provides a place of both safety and threat for a group of children with difficult home lives, lending the story a touch of Stephen King who often employs children as a conduit for evil. It’s very effectively done, and really heightens the creeping sense of unease that permeates the book, and with the portrayal of the St Nicholas’ Day torch-lit procession evoking the evil figure of the Krampus, Tuti builds further on this theme of darkness and threat lurking in the shadows of this claustrophobic community.

I think it’s fair to say that this book left a real impression in its wake on this reader, being not only a perfectly formed murder mystery, but also a book that is layered with a supreme awareness of the frailties and strengths of the human condition, through the investigators, the inhabitants of the village and the killer too. I found this a really intense and emotional reading experience, and felt utterly bound up in the lives of the characters, and the travails they experience. Absolutely highly recommended.