“The Power of Six,” published in August 2011, is the second book of the Lorien Legacies. The first, “I Am Number Four,” was published in August 2010 and a movie appeared in early 2011 (it was quite good–read my review).

The series centers around 9 children from the planet Lorien, which is destroyed by the evil Mogadorians. These 9 (called Garde), along with an adult guardian/warrior (called Cepan), escape to earth, where they hide out. These nine children are special; they will, in time, develop “legacies,” which are super powers. And, according to the plan, they will ultimately defeat the Mogadorians and restore Lorien.

The Mogadorians know they are on earth, and are hunting them tenaciously. However, a charm requires that these nine be killed in order, from one to nine. In “I Am Number Four,” the first three have been killed, and now they are after “John Smith,” who is number four. When a Garde is killed, a tattoo of sorts automatically burns into the skin of each remaining Garde, so they all know how many are left.

I really enjoyed “I Am Number Four,” and felt the author did well in crafting the whole mythology and backstory.

I may have liked “The Power of Six” even better.

I initially assumed that the title referred to the child numbered 6, a girl who came to John Smith’s rescue in the first book. Actually, it probably has a double meaning–the power of that girl, yes, but also the combined power of the remaining six.

The book begins in Spain with Marina, who is number 7. She and her guardian have been hiding out in a convent/orphanage. Marina, using the internet, sees stories about John Smith and guesses that he is number 4. She yearns to connect with the others, who were all intentionally scattered upon arriving on earth. Marina realizes Mogadorians have tracked her down, but her Cepan has embraced Catholicism and is in dangerous denial–an emotional breakdown of sorts, after years of hiding throughout Europe–that there is a Mogadorian threat. Marina is on her own.

In the USA, John Smith is on the run (from police and from the Mogadorians) with Six and Sam, a human from the first book. They have a series of violent run-ins with Mogadorians, who keep tracking them down. Plenty of action here, much more than in the first book.

The book alternates between Spain and the US, with each part told first-person (by Marina and John Smith).

Nothing is resolved in this book–it’s a series, after all. But we do learn a lot. We learn about how the charm works, requiring that the Garde be killed in order, and what happens if someone tries to kill one out-of-order. I was wondering how that worked.

We learn more of the back-story of Lorien and the whole mission of the Garde (including what happened to Numbers One, Two, and Three). Much, much is explained. We learn a great deal, and I found myself much more engrossed in the whole thing.

We learn what happened to Six before she suddenly arrived on the scene in Book One–her Cepan killed, herself imprisoned in a vast underground Mogadorian complex in West Virginia.

Both parts are told first-person, by Marina and John Smith. And there is a concluding show-down in both Spain and the US. That’s not giving anything away (to give something away, I would need to tell you the results of those showdowns).

I really enjoyed this book, and devoured it quickly on my Nook Color. I eagerly await the third installment. I should emphasize that this is juvenile fiction (or young adult), which means it’s clean. Another plus.

I didn’t have high hopes for “Spade and Archer,” even though it is published under the Black Lizard imprint, which rarely disappoints. A prequel to Dashiell Hammett’s classic “The Maltese Falcon”? Really? Who exactly is Joe Gores? And who gave him permission to use Hammett’s characters?

Actually, Hammett’s surviving daughter gave permission. Gores approached her in 1999 about doing a prequel, and she said no. Then in 2004, she approached him about a sequel. He said no, but restated his interest in writing a prequel. She finally said yes in 2006, and the book was published in 2009.

When “The Maltese Falcon” opens, Sam Spade had been a detective for many years. Gores says, “I wanted to find out for myself who Sam Spade was when he started out–how did he become this iconic figure? Every private eye who I’ve known, including myself, thinks Sam Spade is the ideal detective.”

Spade set the pattern for hundreds of private eyes to come (most notably, Philip Marlowe and Lew Archer). He prefers to work alone. He has a love-hate relationship with cops (usually on their bad list). He’s a tough guy.He’s a ladies’ man. He notices things other people miss. He flaunts a sarcastic wit. And he doesn’t mind working outside the law. Gores brings all of this to vivid life.

The book spans a seven-year period, 1921-1928. The book begins as Sam Spade, after serving in World War I, is concluding his final case with the Continental Detective Agency. Spade sets up his own detective agency in San Francisco, and brings aboard Effie Perine as his, as they would say today, administrative assistant.

The book has three parts–the first cases in 1921 (a gold heist and a runaway boy), a second batch in 1925, and a final set in 1928 after Archer joins the firm (these involving thievery on the waterfront and lost money raised for Chinese leader Sun Yat-sen). The opening case involved gold stolen from a ship which had just arrived in San Francisco harbor from Australia via Hawaii. From this case emerges a villain named St. Claire McPhee who gets away, but who is never forgotten by Spade. He keeps arising as we go through the book. That gives a continuity thread.

The cases are all quite interesting, and not so complicated (as are some of Hammett’s plots) that you lose track of what’s happening.

About two-thirds of the way through the book, Miles Archer, an old friend, joins the firm. Spade and Archer’s gorgeous wife, Iva, have periodic flings. Though, since Gores is writing in the style of Hammett, the trysts are only implied and always off-camera.

Another reviewer, Dan Faust, wrote, “Gores manages to do something that Hammett couldn’t: he got me to connect with Sam Spade.”

I completely agree. The Spade drawn by Gores is a much more interesting and fully developed character than Hammett gave us. After finishing this book, I read the short story, “A Man Called Spade,” one of three short stories about Spade written after “The Maltese Falcon” (because fans clamored for more Spade, and Hammett needed the money). That piece didn’t tell me much about Spade. Instead, I found myself inserting the mental picture of the man I crafted from reading “Spade and Archer.”

Bottom line: I really, really liked “Spade and Archer.” The plots–a series of plots, all dispatched in good time–were interesting and easy to follow. I found myself feeling like I was in 1920s San Francisco (Gores obviously did bountiful research).

The book ends with Effie Perine announcing the arrival of a potential new client, Wonderly, who gets “The Maltese Falcon” started. The last few paragraphs of “Spade and Archer” are identical to the opening paragraphs of “The Maltese Falcon.” That was a nice touch, and does nothing to spoil for you “Spade and Archer.”