We continue with the Holland family saga. The story follows Aaron Holland Broussard as he grapples with the sudden death of his daughter, Fannie Mae. This tragic loss sets him on a path that intertwines with both earthly and supernatural conflicts. The novel explores profound themes of good and evil, love and loss, and the impact of personal and societal history. Burke blends elements of crime fiction with supernatural undertones to delve into these themes, making it a powerful and reflective narrative

Synopsis
Grieving the untimely loss of his only daughter and haunted by her ghost, Aaron Holland Broussard tries to move on and be the man she would have wanted him to be.
My Overall Thoughts
I’ve been a huge fan of James Lee Burke for decades, but this novel just didn’t work for me. The prose was beautiful as always for this author but Broussard, as a character, just wasn’t authentic.

What I Didn't Love

The protagonist, Aaron Holland Broussard, is supposed to be the quintessential tough cowboy. He is also a successful novelist. I see how these two personas can coexist, but Broussard just doesn’t pull it off successfully. Tough cowboys don’t complain about neighbors driving “gas guzzlers.” Tough cowboys don’t criticize the other townsfolk for not following mask mandates. It doesn’t matter what side of either of these arguments you are on. These subjects just have no place in this setting and are completely out of character for this archetype. These things don’t make him complex. They make him unbelievable.

I also had a really hard time with the supernatural aspects of the novel. They were an overarching theme, yet they didn’t integrate well into the main plot. Or maybe they were the main plot and the subplots did not integrate well. I can’t even tell which was the main plot.

The “bad guys” were caricatures of Southern, uneducated, white trash. There was nothing original about any of them, nor were they developed beyond the trite stereotype.

Potentially Offensive Content

Graphic Sex
Language
Graphic Violence
Abuse
Child abuse
Vulgarity
Sexism
Religious discrimination

What I Loved
The writing is glorious. I wish the content matched the skill with words.

Every word written is important in James Lee Burke's created worlds. I want to read them over and over again and revisit the audiobooks read by Will Patton. Maybe it's my advancing age, questioning my mortality but I seem to sense more of the supernatural in Burke's more recent novels. Not a bad thing, just an observation. This novel is another one you shouldn't miss. Highly recommended.

I have been reading James Burke novels for over 20 years. His power to describe characters, locations, weather, environment is unmatched. He literally takes you to New Iberia; you almost feel the humidity, smell the rain and the "fecund" water, the scent of flowers and wet earth in the morning. I am a big Robicheax fan, but I've also read all the Holland books as well.

I have struggled a bit with the metaphysical aspects of the Holland books. Actually, this book hung together very well and I enjoyed it very much. This is, in my opinion, a love story. A story about (may-september) love, loss, aging, and grief... Jim recently lost his daughter Pamala and there is a biographical element to the story.

As much as I love Jim, I REALLY dislike being preached to. I don't want anyone's politics shoved down my throat, which is why I have no appetite for productions out of Hollywood, which make you think of a DEI form – all the boxes checked, (TwansLadies and all). I cannot stand it, and this book has too much of it.

'Every Cloak Rolled In Blood' is the 4th book in James Lee Burke's 'Holland Family Saga', and is the writer's most autobiographical novel to date. Burke's daughter Pamela died of natural causes in 2020, causing Burke and his wife profound grief and sorrow. The author transfers some of that heartache to the lead character in this book, 85-year-old Aaron Holland Broussard. As the story opens, Broussard has lost his 54-year-old daughter Fannie Mae in very sad circumstances, and would do anything to see her again.

Aaron Holland Broussard lives on a ranch in Missoula, Montana, near the Flathead Reservation. Broussard has an eclectic background. He grew up in Louisiana and Texas, fought in the Korean War, studied journalism, and eventually became a successful fiction writer. Many of Broussard's books have been adapted into films, and he's now a wealthy man. Being a 'liberal Hollywood bigwig' puts Broussard on the radar of his far-right Montana neighbors, who don't want him in their midst.

As the story opens, a red Ford-150 pulls into Broussard's yard, and a gangly teenage boy jumps out, paints a swastika on Aaron's barn door, pees in Broussard's cattle guard, and hops back in the truck. As the vehicle - which has an older man in the passenger seat - drives away, the boy shoots Broussard the bird and shouts, "You don't belong here. Go somewhere else."

Broussard calls 911 and State Trooper Ruby Spotted Horse arrives to take a report. Thirtysomething Ruby - who seems taken with Aaron - says he looks younger than his age and resembles the actor Sam Shephard. Ruby tells Broussard to stay away from the white supremacists, who mule meth and may have something to do with the many murdered and missing Montana Indian women.

Aaron tracks down the duo that defaced his property, who turn out to be John Fenimore Culpepper - a former imperial wizard in the Alabama Klan, and Culpepper's son Leigh. Broussard says he won't file charges against the culprits if they repaint his barn door, but daddy Culpepper has an attitude, and Broussard struggles to contain his temper. Aaron suffers from blackouts, during which he becomes belligerent and violent, and he fights to keep a rein on his anger, to avoid killing someone.

Broussard stops by Ruby Spotted Horse's house to tell her about the Culpeppers, and hears loud bangs and thuds coming from a locked basement door. Ruby tries to blow it off, but finally admits that evil spirits called the 'Old People' are in her cellar, and they mean to harm living people. The worst of the bunch is the ghost of Major Eugene Baker, a commander in the U.S. cavalry who led a massacre of the Blackfeet Indians - including women, children, infants, and the elderly - in 1870. Moreover, for malevolent reasons of his own, Major Baker makes it his business to personally haunt Broussard.

Meanwhile, Broussard's wish to see his daughter Fannie Mae comes to pass, as her wraith comes back to comfort her dad and to advise him about dealing with the malicious ghosts. Broussard experiences additional 'living people' trouble when he sees two young brothers, Clayton and Jack Wetzel, sneak onto his property with guns and a hammer....probably planning to kill him.

Aaron catches and disarms the boys, then - thinking they had a terrible childhood - gives them a break and lets them go. Aaron even gives Jack a job on the ranch, fixing fences, chopping wood, etc.

Things in the region escalate as several people are brutally murdered, perhaps by humans; perhaps by spectres. In addition, Broussard starts to see visions of the past, like his brutal killing of an enemy soldier during the Korean war - which still haunts him; the Blackfeet Indians futilely trying to escape from Major Baker's murderous troops; and more. In addition, Aaron broods about the baser instincts of humanity, as demonstrated by the historic treatment of slaves; people's refusal to wear masks during the pandemic; corrupt politicians; white supremacy; and so on.

Over the course of the story, Broussard interacts with many people, including Missoula Sheriff Jeremiah McNally, who blows off Aaron's tale about evil spirits and suggests Aaron is mentally ill; tribal policeman Ray Bronson - Ruby Spotted Horse's jealous ex-husband, who she describes as a dirty cop and the most selfish person she's ever known; Sister Ginny Stokes - pastor of a church that caters to drug-selling bikers;Jimmie Kale - a murderous drug lord who's said to bury people alive; and more.

On the lighter side, Ruby Spotted Horse and Aaron have a romantic attraction, despite the difference in their ages.

The story builds to a compelling climax that wraps things up in a satisfactory fashion.

In addition to being a deft hand at characterization, Burke's talent for depicting landscape and atmosphere is unrivalled. For instance, describing Pablo, Montana, Aaron notes, "The vastness of the country, the enormity of the Mission Mountains, is literally breathtaking. The ranches, particularly the old ones with giant slat barns, seem miniaturized and clinging to the earth." And talking about an outing with Ruby Spotted Horse, Broussard notes, "We...pop out on a vista that makes you dizzy. Down below is a lake that resembles a blue teardrop among evergreen forests that roll over hills as far as the eye can see."

James Lee Burke says this is the best book he's ever written. I'm not sure about that since I'm a big fan of Burke's Detective Dave Robicheaux series. Nevertheless, this is a good story, well worth reading.

Thanks to Netgalley, James Lee Burke, and Simon and Shuster for a copy of the book.

Oh, how my heart aches after finishing this beautiful love letter of a novel, a love letter to a real and a fictional deceased daughter.


+++++++++++++spoiler alert ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That is what this novel is truly about, the loss of a daughter. It is beautiful and heartbreaking.

When I began reading the novel, I was apprehensive about the supernatural elements of Major Baker and his evil band of soldiers. There is true evil in this world, and I am a believer. However, these elements were a necessary part of the story.

Broussard is quite the character as he battles evil. His thoughts and homilies
make the reader think about the nature of good and evil. Even though this is one of a series of books about the Holland family, it stands well on its own. .

Thank you to netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this book. Classic James lee Burke storytelling. Difficult to separate out the hard fiction from the ethereal, but that is OK while the author ties it all together. Burke keeps you interested and the story moving. You will not be disappointed.

A combination of the real and the imagined. Author Aaron Broussard sees the death of his daughter as a moment to honor her life by reaching out to change the lives two young men caught in the Opioid plague . Fighting an uphill battle, he has only one in town on his side. It’s the classic good Cersei’s evil battle. It offers insight into the lives of those who use and those who refuse to be moved by the living death that is addiction .

I was already a fan of Burke's Robicheaux series, but this is the first one that I've read from the Holland series. It was a bit of a rocky start for me while at first I thought that I was missing something from not having read any of the others, but then I let that go and got in to the story. The description is indeed correct that this is Burke's most autobiographical yet as we find our main character, Broussard, to be a well-known author in his 80's who lives in Montana and has recently lost a daughter. The book purports to be a mystery, but I found it to be more about love and loss, death and humanity, and redemption with spiritual elements for both Broussard and the tribal officer Ruby Spotted Horse who interacts with Broussard as he winds his way through the story and the town full of characters that inhabit it - physically and spiritually. I did not need the undercurrent of sexual tension between the two and read through a couple rocky parts, but all in all enjoyed the book and Burke's lovely descriptive writing. Thank you to Simon & Schuster for the advance copy in exchange for my honest review.

I received an eARC of this title from the publisher through NetGalley.

As with the previous novel, Another Kind of Eden, I was pulled in by the description. Honestly, had I managed to read the other book before this one became available, I probably wouldn't have requested this ARC.

Well written once more as Burke's prose is brilliant, this story didn't connect with me even more than the previous book. It was still a decent reading experience and memorable.

The plot was fantastic and the characters are so complex and defined. I adore Burke’s books.
Many thanks to Simon & Schuster and to NetGalley for providing me with a galley in exchange for my honest opinion.

I first became aware of James Lee Burke when I was looking for a new novel in a bookstore at Heathrow Airport. I was looking in the mystery and crime section when a women asked me if I had read James Lee Burke. She recommended one of his books which might have been The Electric Mist, and I was hooked. Such beautiful prose considering it’s in the mystery/thriller genre. His protagonist, Dave Robicheaux was a most compelling character. I read several more of his books, but it’s been a while since I’ve picked up another.

Burke is now 85 years old and still writing. Apparently, Every Cloak Rolled in Blood which he just published in 2022 is his most autobiographical novel. This is a deeply personal effort for Burke. He was apparently a solider in Vietnam and left that arena with some guilt about what occurred there. Also, he lost one of his daughters recently and this book would seem to be in part about his mourning process, about which he writes with great style and painful emotion. However, he then ventured off into the supernatural and became hard to follow his thoughts through that process. Abandoned the book about halfway through. I just wasn’t interested in the characters or the plot. Disappointing because Burke has such a stellar history. On the other hand, if you’re fan of the supernatural genre, then this one is for you.

Thanks to NetGalley for the advance reader copy.

An incredible read that deftly combines mystery, drama and the supernatural. Burke at his best.

This was a deeply felt, personal novel and the love Mr. Burke has for his family and his late daughter comes through on every page. While I have been, first and foremost a Dave Robicheaux fan, this book is far and away my favorite James Lee Burke novel. Incredible.

James Lee Burke’s book Another Kind of Eden (reviewed in 2021) had just a bit too much of the supernatural in it for my taste…same for my husband who is the real Burke fan in this household. So I was a bit hesitant to dive into Every Cloak Rolled in Blood, described as “ his most autobiographical novel to date, “ In it, Burke continues the Holland family saga with a story about a writer grieving the death of his daughter while at the same time battling earthly and supernatural (uh-oh) outlaws.
The protagonist, novelist Aaron Holland Broussard is trying to honor the memory of his daughter by saving two young men from a life of crime. They live in a classic opioid-ravaged community, and Broussard finds himself dealing with a violent former Klansman, a fnot very godly minister, a biker club posing as evangelicals, and (as if this weren’t enough!) a murderer who has been hiding in plain sight.
Broussard allies himself with state police officer Ruby Spotted Horse, who turns out to be the only one he can trust. But then the ghost of Fannie Mae shows up, guiding her father as he works to fight the demons of both the present and the past. Oh, and the next. Yikes. This exploration of good vs. evil is wrapped in love and family, blah blah blah, but it was a bit too out there for me, Three stars, and we still love Burke but hope for more reality in future books. Thanks to Simon & Schuster and NetGalley for an advance copy of this title.

Published by ‎ Simon & Schuster on May 24, 2022

Aaron Holland Broussard is part of the Holland family that James Lee Burke has chronicled in a dozen novels. Broussard is also Burke’s alter ego. At 85, it isn’t surprising that Burke uses Broussard as a way to reflect on his life, on the mystery of existence, and on loss.

Broussard is an 85-year-old novelist who, like Burke, lives with the pain of a daughter’s death. Burke explains in a letter to the reader that his daughter died of natural causes in 2020. Broussard feels he is being “boiled alive” by “psychoneurotic anxiety and agitated depression.” Broussard’s daughter died but is still at his side, appearing to warn him of dangers arising in both the corporeal and spirit world.

Broussard lives alone, although prolific writers who are surrounded by family spend much of their life alone in the act of creation. How much of Broussard is really Burke is unknowable to anyone who doesn’t know Burke. Nor does it matter. The novel is not a biography; it succeeds or fails as a matter of literary merit.

Broussard has evolved during his long life. He feels shame for supporting Strom Thurmond’s election and for cheering American pilots who gunned down civilians fleeing their village during the Korean War. Yet he was never part of a mob — not a Klansman, not a waver of Confederate flags, not a bigot. He believes heroism should walk with humility, that bravery follows kindness. He is a decent man who regrets his mistakes.

The story begins with a young man painting a swastika on Broussard’s barn. At various times, Broussard confronts or tries to reason with or help the boy and the father who poisoned him. The story involves drug dealing and buried gold on a reservation, a couple of gruesome murders, ineffective cops, and an unfortunate woman who wants to make a movie with Broussard. While some of the story is reality-based, a good bit of the novel asks the reader to believe (or at least accept that Broussard believes) that spirits of the dead are trying to influence us with evil or save us from ourselves. Broussard, on the other hand, wonders if he might be delusional, forced by grief to see things that aren’t there. A reader might wonder if that’s true, but that does not appear to be the conclusion that Burke invites.

Every Cloak Rolled in Blood succeeds despite its reliance on the supernatural themes crime writers often use to address the existence of evil. Broussard explains that the “great mystery for me has always been the presence of evil in the human breast.” On several occasions, Broussard encounters Major Eugene Baker, the officer who ordered his cavalry troops to massacre peaceful members of the Blackfoot tribe as they slept. A state trooper named Ruby Spotted Horse has a cellar that is a “conduit into a cavernous world that has never been plumbed,” a place where Baker’s spirit resides, among others who have the power to “come back upon the living.”

I’m not a fan of supernatural themes — the supernatural seems too easy as an explanation of evil, a copout that allows humanity to avoid responsibility for inhumane behavior — although I forgive Burke and other accomplished writers for evoking evil spirits. Burke’s prose makes forgiveness easy, particularly when he offers other insights into the human condition. Examples:

“I do not enjoy my role as an old man in a nation that has little use for antiquity and even less for those who value it.”

“I hate the violent history of the Holland family, and I hate the martial mentality of those who love wars but never go to them.”

“When you lose your kid, the best you can hope for is a scar rather than an open wound.”

“I would like to claim power and personal direction over my life. But not a day goes by that I do not experience a reminder of an event that left me at the mercy of strangers.”

“The United States prides itself on the freedom of the individual, but we are still a Puritan nation and obsessed with sex.”

Burke’s letter to the reader describes Every Cloak Rolled in Blood as an “attempt to capture part of mankind’s trek across a barren waste into modern times.” Modern times include “the recalcitrant and the unteachable” who refuse to wear masks during a pandemic because the selfishness of cultural grievance is more important to them than public health. Those grievances include being the butt of jokes told by the “Hollywood friends” of liberals on Saturday Night Live, a grievance that fails to consider what they have done to earn mockery. The trek includes a long history of violence and bigotry and oppression. Burke writes movingly about Native Americans who were slaughtered and brutalized by white soldiers who, instead of being tried for war crimes, were lauded as heroes.

Burke describes Montana landscapes with religious awe and views his characters through the focused lens of compassion. The novel is, in some sense, a howl of pain, notable more for the emotions it evokes than the plot. But it is also a reminder that we must always struggle to understand our place in the universe, to be a barrier against the historic march of evil, to be strong but polite, open but on guard, emotional but not helpless or hopeless.

RECOMMENDED

“I close my eyes and see through the hole into a blue sky that offers no respite and is filled with the cacophony and the fury of carrion birds, like a dirty infection of the firmament itself.”

Aaron Holland Broussard is an 85 year old novelist whose daughter Fannie Mae has recently died. Aaron is overwhelmed with grief and struggling to cope. When a swastika is painted on his door, State Trooper Ruby Spotted Horse responds to his call. Although Ruby is about 30 years younger than Aaron the two share an attraction (an eye-roll-inducing bit of male vanity). In her cellar, Ruby has secrets that are linked to two subsequent murders and Aaron becomes entangled in them. The book also deals with meth dealers, white supremacists and war crimes. Approaching the end of his life, Aaron sees the possibility for salvation in some people who really seem unredeemable

As usual, the author’s writing is beautiful and his meditations on good and evil in the world are particularly heartfelt in this book. I had both the audio book and the ebook. Unfortunately, the audio book does not have the letter to readers at the beginning of the book. That is a shame, because in it the author explains why he writes generally and why he wrote this book specifically. His daughter died in 2020 and he eloquently describes what that loss meant to his family and to the world. He believes that this is his best book. I don’t agree with that assessment.

The book is good, but it was way over the top with the supernatural [the author does not agree that they are supernatural] details that appear to a much lesser extent in some of the author’s other books. There is a whole army of ghostly soldiers and Fannie Mae appears frequently to advise her father. I didn’t like the ghosts in the author’s other books, and I don’t like them any better here. “Wayfaring Stranger” remains my favorite book about the Holland family.

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.

3.75 rounded upward.

James Lee Burke is an icon, a Grand Master who’s written mystery novels, along with the occasional work of historical fiction, since the 1960s. Now he is 85 years old, and he recently lost his beloved daughter, Pamala. This novel is a tribute to her.

My thanks to go Net Galley and Simon and Schuster for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

Every Cloak Rolled in Blood is the fourth in the Holland Family saga. Our protagonist is Aaron Broussard. He is an 85 year old novelist who has recently lost his daughter, Fannie Mae. He feels a “loneliness that is almost unbearable.” He tells us,

“I will not accept my daughter’s death. I will find a way to pull her back through the veil or untether myself and lie down in the bottom of a boat that has no oars and float down the Columbia and into the Pacific, where she will be waiting for me somewhere behind the sun.”

There’s a horrifying passage in which he places the barrel of his gun in his mouth; but he doesn’t go through with it, and later tells us that he believes he will not be permitted to join her if he leaves this world by his own hand.

The story commences with a young man vandalizing Aaron’s barn. Aaron recalls some local cops being unnecessarily nasty to Fannie Mae, so instead of turning the boy over to the cops, he makes a deal with him to have the kid work off the damage. There are other remarks laced in here and there that give a nod to our current national state of affairs regarding police brutality, and I appreciate these.

In fact, the story is laced with a number of social justice issues, and Burke is, as usual, on the side of the angels each time; foremost is the horrific manner in which indigenous people of the Northern Rockies have been treated by the U.S. government, and continue to be.

Over his last few novels, Burke has increased the amount of supernatural content in his work. For decades this aspect of his work was muted, smoldering as a part of the general ambience of the story. He’s always used the occasional Biblical reference, occasionally also borrowing from Greek mythology. In A Private Cathedral, a recent Robicheaux novel—the series that has met with the greatest public acclaim and for good reason—he included a scene that could not be perceived as anything other than supernatural. In fact, it is one in which both the protagonist and his lovable sidekick, Clete Purcel, witness the same event, so there can be no supposing it’s all in the protagonist’s head. It was brilliantly conceived and executed. Unfortunately, this book is not of the same caliber.

I wrestled a great deal with my rating and review; a large part of me thought that when a beloved novelist is in his eighties and has recently lost a child, I should just give him the five stars. Yet another part of me, the part that won the internal debate, feels that to do so is unworthy of the respect this author has earned. It would be patronizing to say this is a great book when I am so ambivalent about it. So I’m playing it straight here. The supernatural aspect, as it is used here, overwhelms this story and damages it organizationally. It also causes the pacing to lag a bit. It’s not a terrible book, but it’s not up to Burke’s usual standard.

But the aspect that bothers me most is the way the younger women in the story—not just one, mind you, but two—cannot wait, apparently, to get Aaron in the sack. Sister Ginny isn’t a good person, but she tries to seduce him anyway. Ruby Spotted Horse is a good, honorable woman, that rarest of all things: an ethical cop. She’s in her thirties, but when Aaron comes onto her, she doesn’t even hesitate. We learn that she was raising her niece, who died, and there’s a clumsy passage in which Aaron wonders aloud if Ruby is really up for a relationship with him given his age, but she assures him that they are bound together by their mutual losses.

Right. Whatever.

There are many lovely moments in this novel, all of them owned by Fannie Mae. There is such clear, obvious affection in the descriptions that I am a little surprised the pages don’t glow.

The denouement, a mighty struggle involving the living and the dead, leaves me shaking my head, though. And when one of the latter, an evil spirit representing a horrible cavalry officer that once lived and killed in the vicinity, tells Aaron, “Pardon me for saying this, but you’re not the good father you think you are,” I want to sit right down and cry.

This book is recommended to diehard Burke fans, and to anyone that needs a grief book.

I’m familiar with James Lee Burke’s Dave Robicheaux books (one of which I reviewed here). Before reading Every Cloak Rolled in Blood, I had not read any of his Holland Family Saga works. Y’all know how this goes. Now I gotta go read all of them. I need to win the Powerball and be independently wealthy just so I have time to read all of the books that are calling my name.

Aaron Holland Broussard is cut adrift. Since the sudden, violent death of his daughter, Fannie Mae, he has lost his anchor. Death isn’t unfamiliar to him, but the loss of Fannie Mae cuts deep – deeper than deaths on the battlefield in Vietnam, deaths of parents, deaths of friends. He is determined to find a way to reconnect with her, to bring her back or join her beyond the veil. He isn’t actively suicidal, but you get the feeling he wouldn’t mind if the Good Lord called his number.

When two local boys paint a swastika on his barn, his 911 call leads Broussard to an ally – a friend? a soulmate? – state trooper Ruby Spotted Horse. Ruby is also struggling with her own grief over the death of her niece, and, like many others in the story, is not entirely what she seems. She confesses to Broussard that she is one of a group called the Guardians, and that the Old People – monsters wrapped in myth and story from ages past – are trapped in her basement.

Broussard knows that people, that things, are not always what they appear to be. He’s seen – and talked to – Colonel Eugene Baker, the long-dead architect of a horribly brutal attack on a peaceful band of Blackfeet. He’s faced a malevolent little girl who looks like Ruby’s murdered niece, but probably isn’t. And as the evils of the past bleed over ever more forcefully into Broussard’s present, he knows that he must fight evil, in human or spiritual form, with everything he has. Otherwise, it may overtake them all, and Fannie Mae may be lost to him forever.

Burke’s books are always filled with turns of phrase sometimes graceful, sometimes spare, sometimes philosophical, and this book is no exception. That, for me, is one of the greatest pleasures of reading his novels – seeing how he will express himself when I turn the next page. Whether Burke wrote the words himself or, as he says in the note at the beginning of the book, “another hand wrote it for me,” the prose is magnificent, and it stayed with me long after the last page was turned.

Burke tackles a lot of chewy issues in this book. The pandemic, social distancing, BLM, white supremacy, twisted politics. But it all takes a backseat to the constant underlying thrum of the pain and loss a parent feels upon losing a child. If this story is Burke’s most autobiographical yet, he is surely sharing his grief with us here, and inviting us to feel its weight for a moment.

This is not necessarily an easy read, as emotionally laden as it is, but it is worthwhile. Love opens us up to pain and loss, but it also offers healing and redemption. Burke portrays both masterfully.

I would like to claim power and personal direction over my life. But a day doesn't go by that I don't experience a reminder of an event that left me at the mercy of strangers. - James Lee Burke, Every Cloak Rolled in Blood. When James Lee Burke writes about his personal experiences, he is writing with a clarity few writers. This new book is a break from usual mystery series as it is more autobiographical and focuses on the death of his daughter. The storyline is full of the supernatural and perhaps some mental dissociation, but that is part of experiencing the black lake of grief.