I’m a sucker for pop literary time displacement stories, such as The Time Traveler’s Wife and The Post-Birthday World. Sean Ferrell’s Man in the Empty Suit isn’t quite as engrossing as those, and it wears its themes on its sleeve (self-loathing and redemption amomg them), but it’s a zippy read and better than a lot of other pulp. Think Die Hard crossed with Murder, She Wrote, with a dash of Quantum Leap; your combined esteem for the above might be a fair estimation of your overall affection for this novel.