Staff Reviews

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For once, Cosby’s hero is neither a current nor reformed outlaw, but a sheriff. Not just a sheriff, but the first Black sheriff of Charon County, an area where the troubled past is still simmering. Concerned that his biggest problem is a march by Christian Nationalists, Sheriff Titus Crown is blindsided by a school shooting, where the victim is a beloved teacher, and in addition, the shooter, killed by a trigger-fingered officer. This does nothing to ingratiate Crown with the formerly supportive Black community, led by an activist minister. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg; before this story is fully told, there will be plenty of secrets revealed and, as promised in the title, shed blood. Edge of your seat thrills, masterful storytelling, and what a voice – another winner from SA Cosby!

— Daniel Goldin

The South is haunted, and so is Titus Crown. A former FBI agent turned first Black sheriff of his hometown of Charon County, Titus's days are filled with white supremacists, holier-than-thou church leaders, and bureaucratic blowhards, but it's the memories that keep him up at night. And then a school shooting uncovers a serial killer in their midst, and nobody in Charon County will be the same. For most people, the prospect of a tightly-plotted narrative with a truly horrifying killer is enough. But the real staying power comes from SA Cosby's voice and the undeniable truth of life in a small Southern town. If you assumed everyone in a small town knows each other, All the Sinners Bleed is here to disabuse you of that notion. 

— Rachel Copeland

Phew! Crime fiction kingpin SA Cosby grabs the police procedural by the throat and dunks it into the murkiest depths of the Chesapeake Bay. This book is very seriously not playing around and gets about as dark as a moonshine blackout. Cosby and his hero (the first black sheriff in a rural, Eastern Virginia county) stare straight into the heart of the South’s (let’s be honest, America’s) worst bugaboos - race, religion, good ol’ boy politics, fanaticism, and violence - the blackest parts of broken men’s hearts. Yet what makes this one special are the sparks of kindness between characters that Cosby clings too – both calloused-hand country tough love and the tender care that passes between father and son – it’s a reminder of what grace can be. Oh, and that voice! Cosby bends language to his will and coins more than a couple delightful new Southernisms along the way. As long as the creek don’t rise and the good Lord’s willing, I’ll keep reading Cosby’s excellent books.

— Chris Lee