For 34-year-old Ryan Perry, life is great. A hugely successful Internet entrepreneur and a true rags-to-riches story, he recently sold his company for millions. He lives in a California mansion overlooking the Pacific Ocean. His staff caters to his every demand. He has been named one of America’s 100 most eligible bachelors by People magazine and is waiting for his girlfriend, Samantha, to accept his marriage proposal.

Then comes a day that will forever change his life. What starts as an assumed anxiety attack while surfing leads to a diagnosis of cardiomyopathy, a congenital heart defect and, essentially, a death sentence at 34. Until Ryan gets lucky and receives a donor heart.

One year later, his life is back on track. Until a woman identical to the organ donor shows up. And wants her heart back.

The mass market paperback edition of Koontz’s latest novel was released two weeks ago. Once again, this perennial #1 NYT Bestseller doesn’t disappoint.

As Koontz aptly described his novel, “It might appear to be a ghost story, [but] Your Heart Belongs to Me is something else entirely.” As he so often does, Koontz mixes a suspenseful, thrilling plot with a love story to create a literary work that cannot be pigeonholed into a specific genre. “Life is full of suspense and, if we’re lucky, it’s full of love as well,” Koontz says.

Samantha, an aspiring novelist, will introduce to the book the notion of subtext—layers of meaning. That’s well-suited, since Your Heart Belongs to Me consists, in and of itself, of several layers of meaning.

The novel didn’t enjoy good ratings from critics, but I found it among Koontz’s most endearing novels. As usual, the king of suspense leaves his readers guessing. Though the prose is at times a bit beneath the standard Koontz has set and the plot becomes a little strung out at times, there’s a lesson to be taken from the story, and it’s thought-provoking as well. Koontz’s novels are becoming increasingly so, on both counts.

I’ve said in the past that Koontz has progressed over the years into an author who can rival Stephen King’s gift for character development. The same is true with Your Heart Belongs to Me. And in Ryan and Samantha, we have Koontz’s most endearing couple since Odd Thomas and Stormy Llewellyn.

Suzanne Collins is crafting herself quite an intriguing sci-fi series.

Collins’ Catching Fire, the second book from The Hunger Games trilogy, was released yesterday by Scholastic Press.

Although I like to humor myself by pretending to have intellectually outgrown the young adult genre years ago, and although I’m not into sci-fi/romance type novels at all, I had to admit that the trilogy’s debut, Hunger Games, was one of the best novels I’ve ever read . . . and definitely my favorite.

Collins — a children’s writer whose resume includes penning episodes for Noggin TV kids shows such as Oswald and Little Bear — masterfully crafted in Hunger Games a futuristic America (now known as Panem), where democracy has fallen and been replaced by an oppressive government.

To briefly recap, Hunger Games sets the stage of Panem: A nation whose oppressed, starving citizens are divided into 12 districts, with a Capitol separate from the common people. A 13th district was obliterated in an earlier revolt, and as punishment for that revolt, a male and female child are chosen from each district each year for a made-for-TV death battle to amuse the Capitol and its people and to show the rest of Panem that uprisings against the Capitol will not be tolerated. The series’ heroine is Katniss Everdeen, who hails from District 12 — the district that was once Appalachia.

If you’re new to the series, you should definitely start with Hunger Games. Catching Fire devotes some time to recapping the events of Hunger Games, but you’re going to need the background of Hunger Games to fully appreciate what is happening. And if you haven’t read Hunger Games, stop reading here, because this will spoil the ending of Hunger Games.

In Catching Fire, Katniss and Peeta find themselves back in District 12, enjoying the luxury that is bestowed upon the winners of the annual Hunger Games. But it can’t last. Katniss’ defiance of the Capitol has stirred a desire to revolt within some of the districts. The people of Panem now see her as the symbol of the uprising, which means the Capitol cannot allow her to live. What was supposed to be a life of luxury turns into another fierce battle for survival as Catching Fire’s plot develops. Katniss and Peeta will once again find themselves thrust into the Capitol’s evil plot, where survival will depend on each other, and loyalty will be called into question.

There was simply no way Catching Fire could match Hunger Games, and it didn’t. It’s less compelling. There’s less detail. And perhaps its biggest transgression is that it — to steal from a review on Amazon.Com — “piggybacks” on Hunger Games. But those short-comings won’t matter by this point, because readers will be so engrossed in the plight of the characters that they will be up until well into the night, anxiously waiting to see what the next page holds in store. And if the climax and ending leave anything to be desired (they do . . . a lot), readers will still be anxiously awaiting the third installment in this series to see how things are going to turn out.

As in Hunger Games, Collins succeeds in drawing readers in, making them fans of the characters . . . which is to say that she does an excellent job of bringing the characters to life. Perhaps the biggest drawback (aside from the above-mentioned) for someone who is leary of sci-fi storylines to start with, is that Collins ventures much further down the path towards fantasy and make-believe in book 2, and that seems detrimental to the overall plot. But she manages to find her way back to the beaten path each time she strays, and even though the ending was disappointing (unlike book 1’s thrilling and inspiring finish), there’s no doubt that the release of book 3 will be anxiously awaited.

Catching Fire wasn’t a 5-star like Hunger Games, but it’s a very solid 4-star, and definitely a recommended read.

Stephen King released Cell in 2006 to rave editorial reviews, but the novel had too much of a “been-there, done-that” feel to it to be mentioned in the same breath as King’s greats like Salem’s Lot and Pet Sematary, even if it was the King of horror’s much-celebrated return to the genre that made him famous.

I finished Cell for the second time recently, hoping to be more impressed the second time around than the first. But, if anything, the similarities between this novel and too many before it were even more glaring the second time around, making it a disappointing read (and proving that “King” and “disappointing read” isn’t an oxymoron).

As Amazon.Com noted in its review, the pace of Cell — which centers around one man’s efforts to find his son after an event turns everyone with a cell phone into maniacs — will surprise devoted King readers. King has a penchant for delving into character-building and setting-developing before getting to the crux of the plot. By contrast, Cell gets right to the point. Before readers are a page deep into the story, there are blood and guts and general mayhem. And that isn’t a bad thing. It makes for a gripping pace that doesn’t release its hold on the reader from page one to page last.

King is King in Cell in that he makes the unbelievable believable and manages to wrap the minds of the reader around the plight of the “good guy.” And he continues a long-held penchant for dispatching one of his story’s central and most endearing characters long before the climax has arrived (much to his readers’ long-held chagrin), which, as usual, makes the story all the more unpredictable and, as such, entertaining.

But the been-there, done-that nagging at the back of the mind is unescapable. There’s nothing in Cell that hasn’t been tried before . . . including by King himself. Cell isn’t King’s first take on the apocalyptic end of the world as we know it. The parallels between this novel and The Stand (arguably King’s best work) cannot be ignored. Once again, what remains of the human race after a cataclysmic event finds itself divided between good and evil and pitted against each other in a looming battle that will decide the fate of the earth. It’s a yawning remake on an old plot, even if the engine propelling the plot is completely rebuild in Cell. This time, it isn’t an anthrax-like virus mistakenly loosed from a Department of Defense research facility but a “pulse” dispatched through cellular phone waves, presumably in a terrorist act by a foreign government, that makes the human brain like a computer hard drive, wiping them clean and eventually reprogramming them. This time, it isn’t the survivors who are influenced by God’s messenger and Satan incarnate onto opposing sides, but phoners vs. craziers: the survivors who didn’t have cell phones pressed to their ear at the time of The Pulse against the victims who did.

If the parallels of The Stand weren’t enough, there were some notable similarities to Dean Koontz’s The Taking and to a few dozen zombie-themed novels that have come before.

As if that weren’t enough, what King gave up in character development at the beginning he was never able to recapture, as this book suffers in that regard unlike perhaps any King has ever penned. All in all, it would be entertaining enough from most authors, but coming from the guy who mastered the genres of horror and suspense, it was a disappointment (and certainly not as good as Lisey’s Story, which King would introduce us to only a few months later).

I have a comfort zone when it comes to novels, and its a zone I prefer to stick to. King, Koontz, White, Deaver, etc.

Occasionally, though, I have an opportunity to sink my teeth into something new when I’m asked by a publisher to review a book or just happen across a new title.

This one was delivered to me by Natalie Lloyd. It is The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, a children’s writer making her first foray into the art of writing novels. It is a young adult science fiction-romance novel.

Color me unimpressed. I’m no longer in the young adult age range, and have never been a fan of science fiction, let alone science fiction with a romantic tint.

And then I started reading it.

Wow.

The Hunger Games (which is actually the first in a trilogy; the second is set for release by Scholastic Press in September 2009) is set in the fictional and futuristic nation of Panem, which arose after the fall of the United States. Panem consists of the luxurious Capitol, surrounded by 12 districts. Each of the districts have specific trades, and are forced to provide the fruits of their labors to the Capitol, while living a poor lifestyle that leaves them foraging for food and substance.

From the 12th District hails Katniss Everdeen. The 12th District is the area formerly known as Appalachia. Their trade is coal mining. Katniss’s father was himself a miner before being killed in an accident in the mines. Readers learn that there was once 13 districts, before the residents of Panem revolted against the government. District 13 was obliterated. As punishment, the residents of the other districts must sacrifice two of their children each year for the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games consist of one male and female between the ages of 12 and 18 being chosen from each district and cast into the wilderness, where they will fight to the death. The last remaining child is the victor, and is celebrated across the nation.

It isn’t a far-fetched guess to assume that Katniss is going to wind up being cast into the Hunger Games to represent District 12, the poor Appalachian region. What follows is a story of tragedy and romance intertwined in a suspenseful page-turning plot that will have readers waiting anxiously to see what happens on the next page. As Stephen King wrote, “Reading The Hunger Games is as addictive (and as violently simple) as playing one of those shoot-it-if-it-moves videogames in the lobby of the local eightplex; you know it’s not real, but you keep plugging in quarters anyway.”

Collins’ debut is tremendous. It left me simultaneously chilled and inspired. It is one of the best novels I’ve read in a couple of years, and as young adult adventure-type novels go, it’s probably the best I’ve ever read. If I were still in the “young adult” category, I’d be impatiently awaiting the release of the second novel, maybe with the same enthusiasm as fans of the Harry Potter and Lords of the Rings series. Yes, it’s that good (to me, at least).

For the older readers, there is a number of political and societal parallels between the futuristic Panem and modern-day America — whether intended or not — that would make for an interesting analysis. But that’s a topic for another day.

If you’re into this genre of fiction and you haven’t picked up a copy of The Hunger Games, do so. You won’t regret it.

The sign of a good novel is one that can be re-read every three or four years without losing any of its luster the second, third, fourth, and etc., time around.

It’s been 13 years since Stephen King wrote The Green Mile (initially as a six-part serial novel; later it was compiled into one book), and 10 since it was adapted for the big screen. And The Green Mile was just as entertaining the fourth time it came off my bookshelf as it was the first time I picked up the paperback copy off a grocery store rack and couldn’t stop turning pages until I was finished.

The Green Mile is, without a doubt, the best screenplay adaptation of a Stephen King book that has ever been tackled. And there have been plenty. Starring Tom Hanks, The Green Mile not only followed the book’s narrative very closely, but even included most of the same dialogue. Hanks shined as Paul Edgecomb, the southern prison guard who was the top screw on death row of a Georgia state pen. And Michael Clarke Duncan did an exceptional job as John Coffey — like the drink, only not spelled the same — the condemned murderer who has a special gift from God. All in all, The Green Mile movie was perfectly cast, even though Tom Hanks was the only headliner in the production.

But, like any movie, The Green Mile still falls short of the novel. If you haven’t read the book (and especially if you haven’t seen the movie either), step back in time to 1932 and visit with King to Cold Mountain State Penitentiary. Live that unusually hot summer with guards Paul, Brutal, Harry and Dean, a mouse named Mr. Jingles and the convicted child rapist John Coffey. Learn the mystique behind Coffey, and why the guards supposed to be charged with sending him to his death wind up convinced that Coffey is something other than what the state has accused him of being. You won’t be disappointed. This isn’t a King novel in the same style as Pet Sematary or Salem’s Lot. Rather, it’s a King novel in the style of Hearts in Atlantis: With a definite supernatural subtheme, but not belonging in the “horror” at all, or even the “suspense” genre. While The Stand will forever be King’s best horror/suspense work, in many ways The Green Mile can claim its own spot as the best work of the man who is the best-selling American author in modern times.

The fifth in Dean Koontz’s series about his popular fictional character, Odd Thomas, a 20-year-old short-order cook who possesses certain psychic abilities and is able to see the dead.

In Odd Hours, Odd is once again the novel’s protagonist and is inexplicably pulled to the fictional California town of Magic Beach, where he finds himself in a race against the night to disrupt a madman’s plot to detonate nuclear weapons in several American cities.

As in previous Odd novels, the personable nature of Odd Thomas that made him one of the suspense genre’s most endearing characters is on full display. A split-personality sheriff named Shackett, a pregnant, mysterious Hispanic woman (Annamaria) and the ghost of Frank Sinatra are all central to the plot as Odd attempts to foil the carefully-laid plans to ruin the U.S.

Released in May 2008 in hardback, the mass-market paperback edition of Odd Hours was just released by Bantam, which has enjoyed much success with Koontz’s Odd series.

But while the first Odd novel — Odd Thomas — was delightful and riveting, the series, the plots and even the main character seem to be taking on a stale feeling. The chatty narrative style is beginning to seem overused, and you must wonder whether Koontz is at risk of going to the well too many times with the character and series that has arguably provided him the peak of his literary success to date. In Odd Hours in particular, the most potentially riveting part of the subplot is never fully expanded on, leaving the reader to wonder “what if?” and serving as a disappointment to the culmination of Odd Thomas, which represented a final-pages plot twist as ingenius as anything to come along in American literature in a generation. Koontz has said there will probably be seven Odd novels. We can only hope that we see the freshness and originality of the stories flip back in the direction of the series debut.

(Odd Thomas was released in 2003, followed by Forever Odd in 2005 and Brother Odd in 2006. Also in 2008, a prequel to Odd Thomas, In Odd We Trust, was released.)

I’ll forever be a big fan of Koontz’s work — after all, the only author who can surpass him in the horror or suspense genres is Stephen King — but it’s been a while since he released a truly great novel. Life Expectancy in 2004 was an exceptionally good book, and it goes down as one of my all-time favorites of any genre. But in recent years, Koontz has gotten too involved with repeated character use. That wasn’t totally a bad thing with the Odd series; after all, Odd Thomas ranked among his best works and the subsequent installments in the series have been nothing to sneeze at. But the Frankenstein trilogy (the third and final installment of which is due out next month) leaves something to be desired.

At the height of the weird American timespan that was the 1960s, a group of college students needing extra money volunteer to take part in an experiment of a hallucinatory drug known as Lot 6, which is being developed for the U.S. Government.

The drug proves successful in altering the chromosones and pituitary gland of the subjects to which it is administered, and when two of the tes subjects later decide to marry, they wind up giving birth to a mutant . . . a girl who is by outwardly appearances normal, but who possesses the talent of pyrokinesis: She can start fires.

Now, the government wants her, to use her as a lab rat. And they’re willing to stop at nothing — even if it means torture or murder — to capture her.

Somewhere years ago — maybe as a gift, maybe at a used bookstore — I picked up a copy of Stephen King’s Firestarter (from 1980). I read the first few pages, was bored with it, and stuck it on a shelf, where it’s been sitting ever since. Recently, after completing a Dean Koontz novel dealing with the same subject (Night Chills), I decided to pick up Firestarter again, stick it out through the first few pages, and see if the plot and pace improved . . . and did they ever.

Firestarter, which was published by King in 1980 — when he was still early in his journey to become the world’s best-selling novelist, takes a while to get going. But once it does, King shapes an intriguing and entertaining plot that leaves readers actively rooting for the fugitives and mentally hissing at the usual “good guys” (the U.S. Government). This novel wasn’t cut from the same cloth as the likes of King’s better works, like The Stand or Pet Sematary, but it holds its own very well, and builds up to a climactic showdown that is one of the most spell-binding of any King conclusion.

Firestarter was adapted for the big screen in 1984, with a film of the same title boasting a host of recognizeable talent: Drew Barrymore, David Keith, Martin Sheen and Heather Locklear.

The story is fictional, of course, but it draws from a subject matter that was unfortunately real. The idea of the U.S. Government hunting down and murdering its own civilians is far-fetched, of course, but it is now well-known that at the height of the Cold War, when fear of the spread of Communism was deeply entrenched, the U.S. Government was actively involved (as was its counterpart in the USSR) in attempting to unearth the ability of telekinetics. And, as King says in an afterword to Firestarter, “the U.S. Government, or agencies thereof, has indeed administered potentially dangerous drugs to unwitting subjects on more than one occasion.”