Author Karsten Dusse’s new novel, “My Inner Child Wants to Kill,” is a worthy successor — and sequel — to his previous, extremely successful work, “Murder Mindfully.” Both novels in the “Mindful Murder” series feature protagonist Bjorn Diemel, lawyer to several men of questionable honesty and character; his wise and clever therapist, Joschka Breitner; several of Bjorns gangster clients; and Bjorn’s estranged wife Katharina and their beloved child, Emily. Bjorn had committed two murders in the first novel, both victims murdered mindfully, mind you, and both necessarily eliminated because if he hadn’t murdered them, they would certainly have killed him. He has also managed to capture another killer and to keep that one in a cell in his basement. Better than killing a third person, we suppose. In any case, he has promised himself never to kill again.

In “Murder Mindfully,” he had absorbed all of his therapist’s information about mindfulness, the basic pretext of which is to throw aside thoughts of relatively unimportant issues and to concentrate only on the thoughts and behaviors that will immediately serve your present needs. A wonderful and useful idea, it would seem. But Bjorn had twisted those ideals into a strong belief supporting his contention that a couple of murders were inarguably his “present needs.”

The basic structure of both of these very clever, lighthearted novels is that the introduction to each chapter consists of words of wisdom from the therapist, Breitner, after which the chapter itself tells the story of Bjorn’s adventures as he puts to use Breitner’s specific gems of advice. Here in “Inner Child,” the advice regards Breitner’s concept of the “inner child,” explanation forthcoming.

Bjorn’s big problem in this novel begins with his very childish action during his trip with Katharina and Emily to visit the Alps, the same trip he had taken with his own parents when he was a child. When the family sits down to have a meal, it soon becomes clear that their young waiter is an arrogant jerk who very much enjoys ignoring Bjorn’s requests for service. As the waiter’s unpleasant attitude becomes more and more obvious and annoying, Bjorn’s anger starts to sizzle. So he sets up a little trap for the waiter to fall into. But when the waiter falls into the trap, he also falls off the nearby ledge, into the ravine, the valley below, and breaks his neck. Bjorn has killed him — unintentionally — but the killing is definitely the result of Bjorn’s uncontrollable anger. Everyone thinks that the tragedy was just an accident, but Bjorn, of course, knows better. He is responsible for a death. Again.

He decides he must visit Breitner, this time to learn how to deal with his anger. But the therapist theorizes that the adult Bjorn is not the true problem; the real problem is his very angry inner child, angry because when he went with his abusive parents on the Alps vacation, they had made it abundantly clear that his needs did not matter. So his parents taught him, in essence, that he should just learn to live with the fact that he doesn’t matter at all. And when the waiter acted the way he did with the adult Bjorn, the waiter WAS those disgusting parents one more time; and Bjorn’s inner child reacted the way an abused child would react — with the need for revenge. Breitner urges Bjorn to begin an ongoing dialogue with his inner child in order to convince the child that he is loved and can depend on “his” adult to learn how to control his anger.

Adult Bjorn accepts that responsibility, and for the rest of the novel, his inner child becomes another of the novel’s characters. “Discussions” between the two Bjorns become as real as discussions between Bjorn and anyone else, as Bjorn attempts to settle down his younger self, and his inner child attempts to realize fully that he should trust his elder self, to take the advice the adult offers, and to overcome his needs for revolt and revenge. Discussions between the two of them are cleverly constructed and, as you might expect, often very, very funny, an absolutely unique method of talking to oneself.

But the togetherness of the two Bjorns doesn’t even begin to resolve Bjorn’s multitude of problems. His gangster prisoner, Boris, at first seems to have escaped and disappeared from his basement cell. And when it turns out that he hasn’t really escaped, the situation becomes even more dangerous and more puzzling. Someone with access to Boris wants to punish him but not yet kill him. Then, Bjorn decides to help out the brother of Laura, a young and lovely mother of one of the students in the pre-school class to which Emily belongs. Bjorn owns the pre-school and the building in which the pre-school is housed. He also has an apartment and a business office there — as well as the prison cell in the basement.

The building is attacked by a mystery person. It becomes apparent that the attacker is the person who temporarily freed Boris, and that person has information about Bjorn’s previous misdeeds. The protagonist is now facing trouble from all sides, and that trouble could be deadly; anyone who knows and hates Boris is either a gangster and probably a killer or is someone who carries deep grudges and hatreds. So the suspense and the mystery become more complicated and far more disturbing and potentially deadly.

But as the danger grows, so does the novel’s humor. As the owner of the pre-school, Bjorn must communicate openly with the parents of the children, and they are a fascinating lot. He develops a crush on Laura, who is Max’s mother, and the kid insists that he has heard strange and scary sounds coming from the basement. Uh-oh. Has he heard the man in the cell? The man who temporarily freed the man in the cell? The sound of stuff being moved around down there? All of that? And he must also deal with the goofiness of the substitute teacher who teaches the kids that if they eat or drink from squeezy pouches, they are contributing to the destruction of the environment. Both Emily and Max love their squeezy pouches, so Bjorn must make that substitute teacher look foolish. He thinks the kids should not feel guilty, afraid that they are personally ruining the world’s environment. But the majority of the parents agree with the sub, and the ensuing arguments are truly hilarious.

But the later long section of humorous events is even sillier, more creative, more laugh-out-loud funny, and certainly more daring. As Bjorn and Laura consummate their affair, and as Bjorn experiences and narrates the happy get-together step-by-step, he also pictures and narrates the parallel event, also step-by-step, of his employee entering and “implanting” the equipment to set a building on fire. Bjorn’s ecstasy and excitement about both dreams-come-true come at the same time to a stunning climax, a veritable explosion and fiery finish. I’ve never before read such an exquisite and crazy description of two parallel constructions occurring at the same time. And I’m quite sure I never will again. Talk about uniquely hot creativity!

When I’ve just finished and reviewed a novel which I deeply appreciate, I often check other reviewer’s opinions about that novel to see if they agree with my positive assessment. They usually do. But in this case, my supporting opinions came not from other critics, but from my own family. I hadn’t realized that my thirty-eight-year-old son, a smart guy and terrific reader, was reading Dusse’s first novel, “Murder Mindfully,” at the same time I was reviewing “My Inner Child Wants to Kill.” He said, out of the blue, “I’m reading a really good mystery called “Murder Mindfully.” My “second opinion” had arrived surprisingly quickly.

Then, while I was taking a nap, my ten-year-old grandson, an extremely bright and precocious kid, had grabbed “Inner Child” and started reading it. I woke up when he was on page twenty. He said, “Boy, this is a great book, Papa.” I said I agreed, but I grabbed the book back and told him it would be appropriate for him in about ten years. He was insulted and even a little angry. I momentarily thought, I wonder if this angry child is actually my own long lost angry inner child reborn. That thought lasted only about two-and-a-half seconds, but it did reflect how deeply my brain had been embraced by Dusse’s unusual novels.

So if you enjoy mysteries with surprising and extraordinarily humorous twists, or even if you just enjoy exceedingly creative lighthearted literature, take the advice of my son, my grandson, and me, and definitely read Karsten Dusse’s wonderful novels.

This review was first posted on Bookreporter.com.