'Razorblade Tears' by S. A. Cosby
- Reed
- May 8
- 2 min read
Author: S. A. Cosby
Rating: A
Vibe: A grief-fueled Southern revenge thriller soaked in blood and regret—with shotgun blasts of emotional reckoning and unexpected tenderness.
Quick Take: Blistering, brutal, and weirdly moving. It’s like watching two broken men hack their way toward grace—with a chainsaw.
Two men. Two dead sons. One blood-soaked redemption arc.
Razorblade Tears is the kind of book that grabs you by the collar and drags you across asphalt. Ike and Buddy Lee are ex-cons, ex-fathers (in more ways than one), and ex-communicated from the lives of their sons—who happened to be married, and murdered. What follows is a vengeance rampage that feels equal parts Quentin Tarantino and Greek tragedy.
Let’s start with the violence. It’s not just present—it’s operative. Shootouts, explosions, beatdowns that would make John Wick blink. It’s almost cartoonish in its extremity, which sounds like a critique but isn’t. Because somehow, amid the chaos, Cosby threads a real emotional arc. These aren’t just two dudes kicking in doors—they’re men working out grief, shame, and self-hatred through physical brutality. The action is relentless, yes, but it’s purposeful. The violence is the growth.
What sets this novel apart is its perspective. We’ve read stories about homophobia. We’ve read stories about grief. But rarely do we get the POV of the homophobic parent—after the worst has already happened. These men can’t fix what they broke. Their sons are dead. What they can do is try to understand them in retrospect. And what Cosby nails is that they’re not just trying to avenge their sons—they’re trying to know them, finally, tragically, too late. As a reader, you feel that absence deeply. You long for the sons. But so do their fathers. That mirroring is devastatingly effective.
Are there flaws? Sure. The mystery itself is solid but not groundbreaking. A few twists land with more noise than surprise. And yes, some scenes cross from gritty into gratuitous. But that’s part of the contract. This book doesn’t aim for subtle—it aims for catharsis through spectacle. And if you’re up for that journey, it absolutely delivers.
