I have read a few of the Weather Warden series by Caine. I think I am going to like this series called the Revivalist Series. Bryn is a great character. No matter what happens she does not give up. If you like the Charlie Davidson Series by Darynda Jones, you like this one!
Summary from the author's site:
Bryn Davies has a problem: her funeral home boss is reviving the dead for profit in the basement, using a new cutting-edge nanotechnology that only the military should have. Yet her problems multiply exponentially when she is murdered, revived, and set the task of finding out who leaked this all-powerful drug … before it's too late. A fresh, new, scientific tale of life, death, and the spaces in between.
Bryn’s first embalming instructor had told her, straight up, that two kinds of people entered the death business: freaks and true believers. Bryn Davis didn’t think she was either one of those. For her, it was a prime career opportunity—a genuine profession.
Oh, she’d picked up odd paychecks during college as an office temp, dog walker, and one memorable afternoon at a chicken factory, but none of those had ever felt real to her. Joining the army after college had seemed like a good idea at the time (steady job, good wages), but four years in Iraq hadn’t made her want to be a career soldier; it had, though, given her a bedrock understanding of the fragility of human life. After that, dead bodies didn’t scare or disgust her.
One good thing she could say for her time in the military: it had led her where she was now, to this job . . . a good, stable one, and even better, an important one.
Bryn smiled a little at the thought. Maybe she was a true believer, after all.
She smoothed the white lab coat—with her name stitched on the left breast—and felt a warm surge of accomplishment. Bryn Davis, Funeral Director, Fairview Mortuary. Her business cards rested in a neat little cardboard box on her shiny new desk, all sober black ink in raised type, with the Fairview logo embossed in the corner. They wouldn’t stay in the box for long; Fairview had furnished her with nice wooden desk accents, including a business card holder, and just as soon as possible, she intended to make that desk her own. She’d never had an office before.
The cards and desk were elegant, like everything here. The room was neat and clean, filled with sober antique furniture and soft, dark cloth. Deep carpets. Subtle fragrances. Not a lot of flowers to overwhelm the already raw senses of the grieving.
She was a little nervous, but she also felt proud and happy. In fact, she felt ready. She tried not to feel too happy, though; it didn’t seem appropriate to be so glee-filled about starting a job that was all about someone else’s loss. The mirror on the wall confirmed that there was still a smile hiding in the corners of her mouth that she couldn’t quite get rid of, and for a moment, she worried about the shade of her lipstick. She’d chosen a light pink, but was it too light? A little too festive? She’d spent too many years in khaki, far away from the fairy-tale world of Maybelline.
There was a knock on her office door, and before she could say come in, it swung open to admit the headman . . . Lincoln Fairview. Mr. Fairview was the fourth Fairview to operate the funeral home, and he looked the part, from his sober, well-tailored suit to his impeccably cut gray hair and soft, kindly face.
She felt her whole body jolt with adrenaline when she saw him. This was the man she had to impress with her professionalism. Hoo, boy. She worried, again, about the lipstick.
He crossed the room with a confident stride and shook her hand. “Hello, Bryn, good morning. How are you settling in?”
She unbuttoned the lab coat and put it on the hanger in the small closet. Even the hangers were solid wood, and nicer than anything in her apartment wardrobe. “Everything’s fine, sir,” she said, and glanced down at herself to be sure she still looked okay. Her business suit was new, and a little stiff, but it was a solid dove gray color, and the soft pink shirt seemed like a nice match. Her new gray pumps pinched her toes, and she was afraid she was going to have to endure the blisters they were bound to raise, but overall . . . she thought she was presentable. Except for the lipstick, maybe. “Am I properly dressed?”
He gave her an X-ray stare, up and down, and then nodded. “Perfect,” Mr. Fairview said. “Soothing, professional, everything I could ask. Perhaps a touch less on the lipstick next time; a pretty girl like you really doesn’t need to emphasize her youth and beauty. Go on, have a seat, Bryn.”
Read more here.