Steven Brust almost always puts out good stuff. He was batting 1.000 for me until _Issola_ which surprised me for it's fanfic-like tone, atmosphere, pace, and everything else. Rotten sauce.
>From Chapter 13 of _Talltoesh_ or, "A Prayer for Frederick MacMurray" I spent the two weeks following Kynn's death in Candletown, discovering just how much fun you can have while you're worried sick; or, if you wish, just how miserable you can be while you're living it up. Then, one day while I was sitting on the beach quietly getting drunk, a waiter came up to me and said, "Lord Maudyear?" I nodded, as that was close enough to the name I was using. He handed me a sealed message for which I tipped him lavishly. It read "Come back," and my boss had signed it. I spent a few minutes wondering if it was faked, until Loiosh pointed out that anyone who knew enough to fake it knew enough to send someone to kill me right there on the beach. This sent a chill through me, but it also convinced me the message was genuine. I teleported back the next morning, and nothing was said about what I thought must have been a miserable blunder. I found out, over the course of the next few months, that it hadn't really been that bad a mistake. It was pretty much the policy to send the assassin out of town after he shined someone, especially during a war. I also found out that going to Candletown was a cliche'; it was sometimes referred to as Niagara Falls. I never went back there. But there was something I noticed right away, and I still don't really understand it. My boss knew I'd killed the guy, and Kragar certainly guessed it, but I don't think many others even suspected. Okay, then why did everybody treat me differently? No, it wasn't big things, but just the way people I worked with would look at me; it was like I was a different person -- someone worthy of respect, someone to be careful of. [yeah, 4:00 am Re-Runs of SNL ain't that big] Mind you, I'm not complaining; it was a great feeling. But it puzzled me then and it still does. I can't figure out if rumors got around, or if my behavior changed in some subtle way. Probably a little of each. [No, Boss, you're the same, think Joe Walsh] But you know what was even more strange? [Quoting your muse mid-stream?] As I would meet other enforcers who worked for someone or other in the strange world of the Jhereg, I would, from time to time, look at one and say to myself, "That one's done 'work.'" I have no idea how I knew, and I guess I can't even guarantee I was right, but I felt it. [Constantino said the same thing, boss] And, more often than not, the guy would look at me and give a kind of half nod as if he recognized something about me, too [like, BMW owners?]. . . . Now I am somebody who can calmly and coldly end a life, and then go out and spend the money. No wonder everybody is a little bit afraid of me. [Yeah, you're the highest paid employee at WKRP, and you can't get a date for the prom]. Thanks, bud, couldn't have said it better myself.
