Author: Marc Cameron
Published: July 29, 2025 by Kensington
Format: Kindle, Hardcover, 336 Pages
Genre: Police Procedural
Source: My thanks to Netgalley and the Publisher for the opportunity to read an advanced copy of this book.
Series: Arliss Cutter #7
Blurb: Deputy U.S. Marshals Arliss Cutter and Lola Teariki are at frozen Cheney Lake, finally nearing their prey. He’s Butch Pritchard, a killer-for-hire as ruthless as the Anchorage wind, and wanted for the murder of a 25-year-old pregnant woman in Missouri. A cruel hit orchestrated by the victim’s husband, Royce Decker, a former member of the St. Louis Metro PD and on the run too. As quickly as Butch is in the marshals’ sight he disappears, abandoning a bear of a partner who’s terrified for his life. But it isn’t Butch or Royce he’s afraid of.
If it isn’t those two outlaws, then who? And why? Right now, the creep in custody has gone silent and Arliss and Lola soon realize there’s more to this manhunt than they ever imagined. To see it through to the end they’ll have to find Butch first, then close on the cold-blooded husband. There is one lead to go on: a woman Butch has been involved with. His number one. She’s ready to talk. Even as scared to death as she is. When Arliss and Lola suddenly face an all-new case linked to this one, they’ll find out what everyone is so afraid of. And how many ways things could still go terribly wrong.
My Opinion: When a thriller opens with four Kindle pages of character names and descriptions, and the entire book is under 350 pages, you know you're in for a ride. For me, that kind of front-loading signals trouble and too much concentration on who is who instead of focusing on plotting.
By the 25% mark, I found myself double-checking the series order, convinced I’d accidentally reread an earlier installment. I was sure that I had read this before. I was getting the rinse and repeat feeling. The pacing felt off, the energy flat. Gone was the dry humor that usually threads Cutter’s dialogue. Instead, we got descriptions about past characters and relationships. This is book seven. Readers who’ve made it this far don’t need a recap. They need momentum.
I’ve always pitched Arliss Cutter as an Alaskan answer to Jethro Gibbs from NCIS: stoic, sharp, and quietly commanding. But here, Cutter’s signature deadpan wit and moral gravity are muted. The moments where he’d normally deliver a single deadpan line. Missing. The tension that usually simmers beneath his silence? Absent.
Then, around the 200-page mark, the book wakes up. The plot tightens, a little snark shows up, the stakes rise, and suddenly, I’m hooked. The final stretch delivers what the first half lacked: urgency, clarity, and that Cutter edge. Then comes the ending. Out of nowhere, it hits like a sucker punch. I gasped. That twist alone earns the next book a spot on my list.
And then, just when you think the tone has finally gotten back on track, there’s a recipe. A literal chocolate cream pie recipe at the end of a book about federal agents chasing down killers in the Alaskan wilderness. They’re tracking, interrogating, surviving. This isn’t a cozy mystery. Cameron’s usual audience craves tactical grit, not dessert.
So yes, Dead Line is uneven. It drags, it detours, it misfires. But it also recovers. If you can push through the fog, the payoff is real. And when you are finished, you can track down your own dessert.
If it isn’t those two outlaws, then who? And why? Right now, the creep in custody has gone silent and Arliss and Lola soon realize there’s more to this manhunt than they ever imagined. To see it through to the end they’ll have to find Butch first, then close on the cold-blooded husband. There is one lead to go on: a woman Butch has been involved with. His number one. She’s ready to talk. Even as scared to death as she is. When Arliss and Lola suddenly face an all-new case linked to this one, they’ll find out what everyone is so afraid of. And how many ways things could still go terribly wrong.
My Opinion: When a thriller opens with four Kindle pages of character names and descriptions, and the entire book is under 350 pages, you know you're in for a ride. For me, that kind of front-loading signals trouble and too much concentration on who is who instead of focusing on plotting.
By the 25% mark, I found myself double-checking the series order, convinced I’d accidentally reread an earlier installment. I was sure that I had read this before. I was getting the rinse and repeat feeling. The pacing felt off, the energy flat. Gone was the dry humor that usually threads Cutter’s dialogue. Instead, we got descriptions about past characters and relationships. This is book seven. Readers who’ve made it this far don’t need a recap. They need momentum.
I’ve always pitched Arliss Cutter as an Alaskan answer to Jethro Gibbs from NCIS: stoic, sharp, and quietly commanding. But here, Cutter’s signature deadpan wit and moral gravity are muted. The moments where he’d normally deliver a single deadpan line. Missing. The tension that usually simmers beneath his silence? Absent.
Then, around the 200-page mark, the book wakes up. The plot tightens, a little snark shows up, the stakes rise, and suddenly, I’m hooked. The final stretch delivers what the first half lacked: urgency, clarity, and that Cutter edge. Then comes the ending. Out of nowhere, it hits like a sucker punch. I gasped. That twist alone earns the next book a spot on my list.
And then, just when you think the tone has finally gotten back on track, there’s a recipe. A literal chocolate cream pie recipe at the end of a book about federal agents chasing down killers in the Alaskan wilderness. They’re tracking, interrogating, surviving. This isn’t a cozy mystery. Cameron’s usual audience craves tactical grit, not dessert.
So yes, Dead Line is uneven. It drags, it detours, it misfires. But it also recovers. If you can push through the fog, the payoff is real. And when you are finished, you can track down your own dessert.