King of Ashes by SA Cosby

In King of Ashes, S.A. Cosby once again delivers a searing Southern noir that melds high-octane action with a deeply intimate exploration of familial bonds. Drawing inspiration from The Godfather, this novel is a bold and uncompromising tale of loyalty, regret, and the destructive gravity of secrets long buried. Set in the atmospheric decay of Jefferson Run, Virginia, Cosby crafts a blistering family saga that scorches with tension, pathos, and his trademark poetic brutality.

At the heart of the novel is Roman Carruthers, the prodigal son turned Atlanta financial whizz, who returns to his hometown when his estranged father is hospitalised after a suspicious car crash. Roman finds his family in disarray: his sister Neveah is emotionally and physically worn from keeping their crematorium business afloat, while their reckless younger brother Dante is entangled in a dangerous drug debt with the fearsome Black Baron Boys. As Roman tries to leverage his professional acumen to buy time and protection, he finds himself quickly out of his depth. The criminals aren’t clients, they’re predators.

Roman is a compelling protagonist, deftly drawn with contradictions that Cosby revels in. He is both savvy and naïve, coldly logical yet fiercely loyal. As the situation spirals, Roman sheds his polished veneer and descends into violence, revealing a darker, survivalist self that Cosby renders with unsettling clarity. The novel doesn’t glamourise his choices; it interrogates them. In Roman’s reluctant transformation lies the heart of the book: a meditation on the moral rot beneath polished surfaces and the price of devotion.

Neveah, arguably the emotional core of the story, is equally vivid. Unlike so many female characters in crime fiction, she is neither a passive victim nor a hollow archetype. Her pursuit of the truth about their mother’s disappearance adds a melancholic undercurrent to the narrative, while her grit and emotional complexity elevate the stakes beyond mere crime-thriller tropes. Dante, for all his recklessness, feels tragically real - a man crushed by his own bad decisions and the weight of familial expectation.

Cosby's prose is lyrical without losing its punch, unflinching in its depictions of violence and despair but always anchored in emotional truth. His gift lies in balancing gritty realism with moments of almost operatic intensity. The crematorium, a haunting metaphor throughout, becomes a crucible for transformation both literal and symbolic. Few writers handle metaphor with such fire and clarity.

The plot barrels forward with relentless momentum, but Cosby never sacrifices character for pace. Even amidst shootouts, betrayals, and moments of unexpected tenderness, the focus remains firmly on the Carruthers siblings and their tangled legacy. Though some subplots (including a late-stage romance) wobble slightly under the novel’s weight, the emotional power never falters.

Ultimately, King of Ashes is a blistering tale of how far we will go for the ones we love, even when love itself is laced with betrayal, guilt, and rage. It is a bold, beautiful, and brutal testament to Cosby’s growing reputation as one of contemporary crime fiction’s most urgent voices.

This is not just a thriller. It’s a reckoning.

Reviewer: Chris Reed

Hachette