BLACK WATER RISING

By Attica Locke (Harper, 448 pages, $25.99)

It's rather ironic that the author is named after a prison uprising, and the main character of this novel narrowly escapes doing hard time (yet remains locked up mentally). In this mystery, Jay Porter starts out as an ambitious college student in the '60s, wanting to change the world with black radicals like Stokely Carmichael and Huey P. Newton. But eventually he lowers his black-power fist and heads to law school. Marred by his experiences with whites, he lives in a constant state of paranoia. On a romantic boat cruise along the bayou with his wife, he rescues a woman in distress. So jaded by his past, he deems it best to stay away from anything that could be trouble. But the next thing he knows, he's being offered a large sum of hush money and is having his life threatened. He knows he should take the money and lie low, but the fire of his inner activist begins to burn bright as he finds answers to his questions and exposes the chief financial officer of a large oil conglomerate. Set in the 1980s when the oil business was at its height, this novel unfolds like the many layers of an onion. There are a few "I didn't see that coming" moments. What seem to be many separate plots eventually marry into one heck of a thrilling and intriguing read. The author exposes the still-raw wounds Southern blacks feel, yet reveals the inner strength of characters to persevere and fight for what's right.

MELISSA WALKER, CALENDAR WRITER

BOUGHT

By Anna David (Harper, 274 pages, $14.99)

I admit that I haven't read anything that could be categorized as "chick lit" since "Bridget Jones's Diary." Now I know why. After slogging through "Bought," a sort of coming-of-age tale in the sleaziest of Hollywood sleaze, the bad aftertaste lingers. No one with such a seemingly solid upbringing as Emma Swanson, the protagonist, would ever chuck her entire moral code in a second for a shot at writing a cover story for a celeb magazine about Hollywood working girls. You see, these prostitutes are a step above your average hooker -- they trade their services for goods instead of cold, hard cash. But Emma, a 29-year-old with the self-esteem of a flea, is willing to lie to her sources, lie to her editor, lie to her family and friends, and -- surprise, surprise -- lie to herself about her new, exciting life as a "journalist" with her new high-class hooker best friend. She pines after a Hollywood player who treats her like dirt. She decides to do drugs with her new BFF. There's so much wrong and insulting about the characters and plot, it doesn't even feel like a guilty pleasure to delve into this dirty world. Give me Jackie Collins instead any day.

KATHLEEN CLONTS, COPY EDITOR