LoveMurder by Saul Black Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

When she is called to the murder scene, the last thing San Francisco Homicide detective Valerie Hart is expecting is for Katherine Glass to walk back into her life. Six years earlier, revulsion and fascination had gripped the nation in equal measure, as beautiful, intelligent, charming and utterly evil Katherine Glass had been convicted on six counts of Murder One. But the freshly-mutilated corpse in the ground-floor apartment bears all the hallmarks of Katherine s victims. And then there s the note, with its chilling implications. Addressed to Valerie.

To stop the slaughter, Valerie has no choice. She must ask Katherine Glass to help her decipher the killer s twisted message. But that means re-entering the pitch-black labyrinth that is Katherine s mind, and this time Valerie isn't so sure which one of them will survive.

It was just earlier this month I reviewed Saul Black's debut, The Killing Lessons. While it wasn't my favorite mystery- there was a little too much going on and it had a dragging problem- it was still a good, solid debut thriller that showed a ton of promise. I liked Black's writing, and the ideas he came up with. 

And this novel is much tighter than his first. It was more focused by far- the only thing going on was the central case, there wasn't a million other little threads to follow up on. I mean, not everything was fixed- sex was still a big part of the book, but I'm starting to think this is something that's just going to become a part of reading Saul Black's books. The vibe he's clearly going for is dark and twisted and sexy, and I'm cool with that. Especially when this book is even more fucked up than the first.

The characters came across as a lot stronger, too. Valerie is still the smart, capable detective, but without the extra melodrama of being both an alcoholic and lovesick for her ex. Nick proved a welcome addition to the plot, and his banter-heavy dialogue ended up being my favorite. I also think Will especially shined in this novel, and I ended up not hating most of the side characters, which is amazing for me. 

The villains were interesting, although while I wanted to like Katherine Glass- and she was the kind of Elizabeth Bathory evil that I like- she grated on me after a while. I wished she could have a scene in which there was no unnecessary sexual tension between her and Valerie, or in which people would stop mentioning her beauty because it got old and tiring fast. But I suppose it's meant to enhance the dark and sexy aspects of the story, so that's a purpose. From what I understand, this guy writes werewolf novels under his real name (I didn't discover this until I Goodreadsed the author; he refreshingly doesn't make any mention of it- but then again, if I wrote werewolf novels I'd want to keep that hidden, too), so that might explain the preoccupation with sex. It's funny, though, his writing reminds me almost of Tana French's, but reading his books reminds me of how refreshingly little sex there is in hers. I'm not against sex in books, but it's such a big part of many books, especially thrillers, it's nice that a popular author hasn't fallen back on that trope.

I would say this book's biggest flaw is that it was surprisingly reluctant to kill people off. I think the subject demanded a higher body count than what was actually given to us, and I also think that Black was skating on thin ice with me with two of the people that he had the Man in the Mask capture. I mean, did anyone actually think those two characters would be killed off? I mean, one, fine sure whatever, but two in one book? That does nothing but waste time. One of them should have been killed off or, heck, maybe that particular subplot just shouldn't have been in the book at all, in favor of one that could have actually been killed. In the end, it felt like shock value, and I despise shock value. 

So those are my thoughts on LoveMurder, a title my spellcheck hates. It was good, and a strangely addictive little book that is sure to keep you interested, provided you don't hate a little shock value or unnecessary sex. And hey, if you do love that shit, well, all the more power to you.

8-8.5 out of 10

Under Rose-Tainted Skies by Louise Gornall Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I'm being forced to challenge ideas that have kept me safe for so long. There's an entire library of information in my head, and suddenly I can't decide if any of it is worth reading.”- Under Rose-Tainted Skies, Louise Gornall

At seventeen, Norah has accepted that the four walls of her house delineate her life. She knows that fearing everything from inland tsunamis to odd numbers is irrational, but her mind insists the world outside is too big, too dangerous. So she stays safe inside, watching others’ lives through her windows and social media feed.

But when Luke arrives on her doorstep, he doesn’t see a girl defined by medical terms and mental health. Instead, he sees a girl who is funny, smart, and brave. And Norah likes what he sees.

Their friendship turns deeper, but Norah knows Luke deserves a normal girl. One who can walk beneath the open sky. One who is unafraid of kissing. One who isn’t so screwed up. Can she let him go for his own good—or can Norah learn to see herself through Luke’s eyes?

So, the cover of this book is really pretty. I'd be tempted to call this a cover buy, but I read it on an e-reader and those don't count in my opinion. Also, I did like the synopsis on the back of the book. 

But honestly, I feel like the cover and the inside flap are total teases. When you look at it or open it up, it seems to promise the kind of beautiful, deep prose and plot that evokes an almost Challenger Deep vibe, a dark and personal exploration of mental illness. Instead, this novel is more along the same lines as Everything, Everything, being a cute and fluffy romantic contemporary. This isn't necessarily a negative thing, but it's just like going to a fine art gallery expecting a collection of Edward Hopper paintings and instead getting nothing but Thomas Kinkade.

I feel like this book is to Everything, Everything what All the Bright Places was to The Fault in Our Stars. Of course by saying that I feel the need to preface by saying I didn't hate Everything, Everything. I mean, I didn't love it in the way many people seem to, but it was okay and harmless. I think at the end of the day I'd rather have Everything, Everything knock-offs flooding the shelves than The Fault in Our Stars knock-offs. But seriously, Gornall could have tried to make it a little less obvious, couldn't she?

The chick in this book is an agoraphobe (that still PC?) (Ah, who the hell cares?). This is initially what drew me into the novel, because I don't know any agoraphobes personally and the only fictional characters I can name who are are that old lady from Love, Stargirl and Harold from Twin Peaks, who was only in like three episodes but solidified my opinion that Donna is a bitch. Anyway, so besides those two characters, I was curious to see agoraphobia from the eyes of someone who struggled with it. So anyway, she can't leave her house. You know who else can't leave her house? Madeline from Everything, Everything! Okay fine, I'll give Gornall a point there, since the whole point of the book is that she's afraid to leave the house and not forced to stay inside like Madeline. But then, a cute boy moves in! One who is real trendy and has nice hair and eyes and of course is, in the words of Mary Poppins, practically perfect. I hate male characters like that almost as much as male characters that are the exact opposite. No boy is that attractive and understanding and deep and whatever as Luke and by extension Olly since Luke is basically him except alternative. Both also have daddy issues, which means that Olly's dad hits him and Luke's dad "disappears". Also, both girls are exceptionally close with their mothers, have the burning desire to become architects (though there is no evidence whatsoever on Norah's part that she actually has an interest in architecture), and have dream places to go to. In Norah's case it's France, which makes me wonder what draws her to France. There's a reason for Madeline to want to go to Hawaii, a very good reason actually, but why France? 

Also, they both take place in California, which makes no sense given the author is English. I'm not saying you have to be from somewhere to write a book that takes place somewhere, but why California? Because books that take place in CA sell really well? Because that's where Everything, Everything took place? And, of course, the main story line is about how their relationships open them up to a whole new world, especially when their illnesses hold them back from doing normal couple-y things like kiss and even hold hands. I don't really have a problem with this story line, even if it does come across as the best cure for crippling agoraphobia is a cute boy, because I'm partial to cute boys myself the book is a meet-cute romance. If it was a serious book akin to the above mentioned Challenger Deep, I'd feel obligated to call it out. But in this book it's light and sweet and it's not like the characters are particularly realistic anyway. 

Also, did you notice that romance novels lately have been returning to the whole star-crossed lovers thing? But now we've got cancer, mental illness, and immune disorders (and also mental illness) keeping our lovers apart. Makes me nostalgic for the good old days of family drama.

The actual writing itself is not my favorite. It was okay, but something felt off about it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I think learning that the author was British cleared a lot of my confusion about the language up given that it did kind of sound like she learned all the American slang in the novel from watching American sitcoms. I will say this in her favor, though, no accidental British-isms slipped through. Still, there's also a lot of telling not showing, and the characters weren't really that well developed.

Look, I didn't hate this book. It just honestly wasn't my taste, and, again, the fact I was expecting something a little more serious kind of just dampened my enthusiasm for the novel. That, and the major rip-off vibes I got, which always sours a book on me. I don't always demand originality from my books- thought it helps- but I do want one that isn't that transparent. I get that the book is written from the author's own experiences, and that this review makes me look like a massive bitch, but a book can still be unoriginal even if the author went through something similar. And I don't really think I learned anything new about OCD or agoraphobia or anxiety or whatever else is in this book. What I'm saying is, despite the seemingly heavy subject matter, this book is cotton candy. I doubt I'll remember it much in a few months.

6 out of 10

Five Favorites- Contemporary

I have a review to write, but at the moment, I'd rather do this. It's nonfiction and I have nothing to snark on so it's less fun to write about. So I decided to write this instead. I've toyed around with the idea of Five Favorites- maybe even being on a Friday- and so this is me tested the idea out. Basically, it's me dedicating a post to five books, fictional couples, characters, etc I love above all others so you guys can get an idea of the things I love as opposed to the things I hate. So it's basically Top Five Wednesday. I never said it was original. I went with Five Favorites because I like alliteration, though the books I hate might end up a list, too. I originally had "fast" in the title, but since I'm pretty long winded I took it out. Not that you care.

So kicking it off, here's my top five contemporary novels, not necessarily in any specific order.

1. I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak

  So, raise your hand if you've read and loved The Book Thief. Now, raise your hand if you've read anything else by Markus Zusak. Well, you should. I'm honestly surprised how little people have read his other books, especially since many count The Book Thief as their all time favorite book. Frankly, I Am the Messenger is the first reason why I count Markus Zusak as my all time favorite contemporary author (the second is The Underdog omnibus), much to the confusion of those who only know him by The Book Thief. But anyway, I Am the Messenger. This novel is about a rather mundane cab driver, who considers himself the typical working class Aussie, who sucks at cards and sex, is hopelessly in love with his best friend, and has a coffee drinking dog named The Doorman. Until one day, when he catches a bank robber and, shortly afterwards, gets a playing card in the mail with a list of addresses on it. From there, he must improve the lives of those the cards order him to. It's a wonderful, heartbreaking, tear inducing, and yet inspiring story of a ordinary guy who does extraordinary things. And of course it has that wonderful Markus Zusak prose. I loved this book so much that it's impossible not to put it on the top of my YA contemporary list. It truly needs more recognition.

2. Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman

  Neal Shusterman is another one of my favorite authors ever, but not really for contemporaries. Sure, I liked his magical realism-y Bruiser, but I adore his speculative fiction, especially the Unwind series, which you'll read more about in my SF list. So what is he doing on this list? Well, simply because Challenger Deep is an amazing, amazing read. Seriously, I don't know why this book is so seemingly underground (why all of Neal Shusterman is so underrated, but that's besides the point) because it won the fucking National Book Award in YA ferchristssake. Anyway, it's about a boy who has either schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder and the dueling realities that come with those types of diseases. On one hand, he's a smart, artistic honors student. On the other, he's on a pirate ship heading towards Marianas Trench, hence the name Challenger Deep. It's a stunningly told story of mental illness from a guy that needs more recognition. If you had to read any YA mental illness books, let it be this one. You won't need any other.

3. Graffiti Moon by Cath Crowley

  For those of you who are more into the lighter, fluffy, contemporary contemporary side of YA contemporaries as opposed to the darker, edgier, realistic fiction side, this entry is likely the only one on the list for you! Graffiti Moon is another Aussie novel, but in a whole different ballpark as I Am the Messenger. This book is basically about a group of boys and girls who, over the course of one night, either fall in love or fall in love again. Mainly though, this is about Ed and Lucy, who have... complicated feelings about one another. Ed is currently pining over his ex girlfriend, even though he broke up with her, and he also lives a double life as a graffiti artist known as Shadow. Lucy hates Ed after a disastrous date the two went on a few years ago. She is, however, in love with Shadow. You can guess where this is going. I have a whole review dedicated to Graffiti Moon, so I'll keep the rest of my thoughts short, but despite all the tropes I hate present, I loved everything about it. Read it if you want to fall in love with a book.

4. Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson

  I used to love love love Laurie Halse Anderson back when I was first getting back into reading a few years ago. Now, that love has faded dramatically, but despite that my love of Wintergirls has remained, unlike my love for some of her other novels like The Impossible Knife of Memory or Speak, which has dimmed somewhat. In fact, it's grown. Wintergirls is a magically written novel about a girl with an eating disorder who, after the death of a girl who was once her best friend, relapses and ends up going on this kind of self discovery journey. Like a less lame version of that new movie To the Bone, actually, a movie I have a lot of problems with and might eventually write a review for. And unlike To the Bone, this novel doesn't shy away from the darkness of an eating disorder, with graphic descriptions of a girl dying of an esophagus eruption and other pleasant depictions to that nature. It's dark, gritty, and the writing is top notch. However, I admit that this is a total love it or hate it novel, so read at your own risk and only if the subject matter is something that appeals to you or you can handle. Also, this is one of those books I'd sample before you buy it- the writing is also something it seems people either love or hate.

5. The Lies About Truth by Courtney C Stevens

  I suppose this is another summery-sweet contemporary, but frankly I don't know if I've ever thought of it that way given that it's about some pretty heavy things. It's about a girl who was in a bad car accident with her friends, resulting in the death of one of them. Her face is also heavily scarred as a result. It's kind of like Invincible Summer by Hannah Moskowitz in that it's a beach read looking book masquerading as a deep, hard hitting book, and has one of the best portrayals of friendship I've ever come across, even in real life. I loved the unique take on grief, the wonderfully nostalgic-inducing summer scenes, and just the overall loveliness of this novel. It is from a Christian perspective, so if you're one of those people who says that a book feels "preachy" because one of the characters professes a belief in God stay away from this book. But for me, it was wonderful.

What are some of your favorite contemporary novels? Have you read any of these books? What do you think about them? Leave your thoughts below!

Little Girl Gone by Gerry Schmitt Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“'Perfect' Marjorie said, reaching down to gather up the child. 'You're a perfect little angel, aren't you?'”- Little Girl Gone, Gerry Schmitt

On a frozen night in an affluent neighborhood of Minneapolis, a baby is abducted from her home after her teenage babysitter is violently assaulted. The parents are frantic, the police are baffled, and, with the perpetrator already in the wind, the trail is getting colder by the second.

As family liaison officer with the Minneapolis P.D., it’s Afton Tangler’s job to deal with the emotional aftermath of terrible crimes—but she’s never faced a case quite as brutal as this. Each development is more heartbreaking than the last and the only lead is a collection of seemingly unrelated clues.

But, most disturbing of all, Afton begins to suspect that this case is not isolated.  Whoever did this has taken babies before—and if Afton doesn’t solve this crime soon, more children are sure to go missing . . .

I picked this novel up thinking it was a serious, dark mystery novel. All that went out the window when I opened the front page and discovered that this woman writes tea shop and scrap-booking mysteries. You know, the kind of mysteries that your grandmother might read because they're light and cozy and don't really require much thinking? In fact, they reminded me of the kind of beginning chapter book mysteries I used to read in like 3rd grade in which intrepid young detectives attempt to figure out who stole all the lollies from the elementary school's Fall Festival. No judgement or anything, I think those kinds of books are cute, but it's the titles of the books that killed me. I think my favorites were "Scones and Bones", "Crepe Factor", "Photo Finished", "Steeped in Evil", and "Sweet Tea Revenge" (the latter two sound like rejected ID channel shows, especially Sweet Tea Revenge since it reminds me of Southern Fried Homicide). Anyway, it doesn't really have much bearing on the novel except it made me giggle and also told me not to take much of the book seriously.

I do wonder why she chose to publish this novel under her real name. Maybe because she wanted to separate this book from her cozy mystery pen name. Or maybe she didn't think anyone would take this book seriously if it written by someone named Laura Childs. I can't blame her. People named Laura usually suck.

I admit though, it wasn't as fluffy I thought it would be. Sure, there is a lot of interesting descriptive choices and odd observations that bordered on the cheesy side, but hey, she's just starting out. Heck, even the cover has a bit of that since underneath the title it says "An Afton Tangler [great name by the way; sounds like a hair company] Thriller". That just strikes me as cheesy mystery, especially since most of the serious thrillers I read don't make an mention of being a part of a series, even when they are. It would be like if In the Woods had underneath it "A Dublin Murder Squad Book". 

But anyway, the novel does have some surprisingly dark points, and the climax is honestly really action-packed and, again, surprisingly dark. She doesn't take as many risks as most thriller writers do, though, the babysitter isn't raped, for instance, and the dead body of the infant they find wasn't murdered, but at the same time it's nice that a writer doesn't feel the need to throw in a lot of extra stuff for shock value. 

At the same time, for a small book it kind of drags. We have to go through every single suspect and analyze why they could have done it and why they didn't do it. This is the same tactic used by French in her books, but I'll tell you why it works there and not here. In the DMS books, we don't know who the killer was, so the analyzing of various suspects' motives feels earned. While we have a feeling that the person that actually did it won't be revealed towards the end, there always feels like the chance that she'll pull the rug out from under us. In this book, we know the kidnapper right off the bat, hell, we even get her real name and POV. It's not like in Pretty Little Things, when we get POVs from the killer but we never actually get his identity. No, we know exactly who she is, so why the red herrings? It ends up dragging the book down. I get how realistic it is to a real police investigation, but that's the reason why police procedurals don't typically reveal whodunit in the first fucking page.

Of course, in Schmitt's defense, I can see how this novel wouldn't work any other way. It needed the kidnapper's POV to explore the subject of baby selling and illegal adoptions and explain why that's the motive. So even though I was bored by the middle of the book, it kind of makes sense.

I also felt like some aspects of the characters were a bit unnecessary. Like, was it really vital to the novel to have the aggrieved dad turn out to be a dick? Seriously, the guy's infant daughter just went missing, it's find to make him a stand-up guy who's loyal and loves his wife despite being rich. You wouldn't do that to a mother who lost her daughter, would you? I also felt like Marjorie was a bit more of a comic book villain than a realistic one. She came across more as the evil, ugly queen in a Grimm fairy tale than anything else. 

Somewhere, probably in the middle, of the novel I came to look upon the characters as the devices through which the story was told as opposed to actual characters, if that makes sense. The wonderfully named Afton Tangler had didn't appear to have much to her character, and honestly, I think it worked with the story, to the point where I genuinely didn't like it if any signs of a personality came through.

The actual writing also isn't the best I ever saw. Again, there is a bit of cheese, but I found that amusing. The only major problem I can see is that she does have the tendency to add things in for convenience's sake, or just to make sense with the narrative. Like the whole bit about Dillon being sick with food poisoning- no the flu!- was pretty obviously just to get Afton in with Max. I mean, there's nothing wrong with making decisions like that for the sake of the plot, but just don't make it so obvious. 

So those are my thoughts on Little Girl Gone. Doubt I'll actually continue on with the series, but I might recommend this novel. Mostly to people like my grandmother to read in between her Agatha Christie novels. Still, this book will rest comfortably in the middle of my thriller list, since I didn't hate it, but I didn't love it either.

6.5 out of 10

Bear in the Streets by Lisa Dickey Review

Lisa Dickey traveled across the whole of Russia three times—in 1995, 2005 and 2015—making friends in eleven different cities, then coming back again and again to see how their lives had changed. Like the acclaimed British documentary series Seven Up!, she traces the ups and downs of ordinary people’s lives, in the process painting a deeply nuanced portrait of modern Russia.

From the caretakers of a lighthouse in Vladivostok, to the Jewish community of Birobidzhan, to a farmer in Buryatia, to a group of gay friends in Novosibirsk, to a wealthy “New Russian” family in Chelyabinsk, to a rap star in Moscow, Dickey profiles a wide cross-section of people in one of the most fascinating, dynamic and important countries on Earth. Along the way, she explores dramatic changes in everything from technology to social norms, drinks copious amounts of vodka, and learns firsthand how the Russians really feel about Vladimir Putin.

Including powerful photographs of people and places over time, and filled with wacky travel stories, unexpected twists, and keen insights, Bears in the Streets offers an unprecedented on-the-ground view of Russia today.

I hate writing nonfiction reviews. What's more, I hate writing reviews for nonfiction books I like. Because I genuinely enjoyed this novel and I have no idea what to say about it. 

It was a smartly written, entertaining novel about the everyday people of Russia, told through the perspective of a remarkably unbiased American woman. I picked it up primarily because I'm a russophile, and the summary intrigued me. I was curious to see how Russia evolved in modern times, especially since most of what I've read about Russia is primarily from the modern times. In some ways, it reminded me of A Constellation of Vital Phenomena and a lot of The Tsar of Love and Techno, especially the parts about the Chechen war. 

While I don't know if I'd be as attracted to this novel if it wasn't about Russia, it did, kind of unexpectedly, satisfy the observer in me. The person who is fascinated by other people and the different lives other people live, especially those so radically different than my own. It reminded me of why I love books like Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil- the crime in that book is fascinating, but what interests me more is the people Berendt comes across. It's the same thing that always draws me to blogs and YouTube channels and the like. I just like knowing how other people live.

And again, the narrator is relatively unbiased. She's got a good balancing act. She definitely has a presence in the book, even more so than Berendt had in his book, with at several times her opinions being made clear, but she doesn't really look down on others for having differing opinions and at one point even comes to the conclusion that the Russians might even be more tolerant than she is- they were able to separate her from her opinions and her government, where as she was having a hard time separating them from their feelings and their government. 

Dickey also does a good job showing the political opinions of modern Russia, and interestingly, they are the opposite of what some Americans may think they are. I find that quite a few Americans are convinced that the Russian everyday people hate Putin and their government and are only going along with it because they fear the repercussions. Of course, this is mostly true of liberals; conservatives have the tendency to think all Russians are still goddamn commies at heart. However, when Dickey traveled across Russia, she found that, nope, the Russian people just like Putin, even the young ones. I think that, in the end, just like France is more liberal than we are, Russia's just more conservative than we are. I'm not really sure why we are surprised or questioning why a guy like Putin got into power, or why he's so beloved by the people. Russia's always been ruled by leaders like that, and when a moderate comes into power, he's always overthrown or elected out or whatever. Think about it. They went from autocrats to Communists, you think our brand of Democratic Republicanism has a hope in hell of working for them. Then again, I typically believe that most countries have the government they deserve, yes, even America, especially America actually, and I'm weirdly non-fatalistic when it comes to governments (this is weird because I can't get on a plane without thinking that I'm going to die at any second but I just can't bring myself to feel like Doomsday is nigh about the next four years, because America's dealt with worse and we will come out it just fine. I mean, we managed to survive the 70s and the Carter administration, we can survive this).

Wow, that got political. Let's pretend that never happened. Anyway, yes, I liked this book. It was sweet in a lot of ways, like during the many reunion scenes, and sad in others, like the Mother of a Soldier chapter. It's a fascinating tale of three very timely periods in Modern Russian history, and I can't help but wish a little that her final trip was in the year 2017 because, well, I want to know what the Russian everyday man thinks about today's political turmoil.

9 out of 10

A Night Divided by Jennifer A Nielsen Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“The fence was only the beginning. It had just divided my life in half. And nothing would ever be the same again.”-A Night Divided, Jennifer A Nielsen

With the rise of the Berlin Wall, twelve-year-old Gerta finds her family divided overnight. She, her mother, and her brother Fritz live on the eastern side, controlled by the Soviets. Her father and middle brother, who had gone west in search of work, cannot return home. Gerta knows it is dangerous to watch the wall, to think forbidden thoughts of freedom, yet she can't help herself. She sees the East German soldiers with their guns trained on their own citizens; she, her family, her neighbors and friends are prisoners in their own city.

But one day, while on her way to school, Gerta spots her father on a viewing platform on the western side, pantomiming a peculiar dance. Then, when she receives a mysterious drawing, Gerta puts two and two together and concludes that her father wants Gerta and Fritz to tunnel beneath the wall, out of East Berlin. However, if they are caught, the consequences will be deadly. No one can be trusted. Will Gerta and her family find their way to freedom?

I kinda missed the boat on middle grade novels. I mean, sure, I read some middle grade novels back in late elementary school through my middle school years, but I think for the most part I made the jump directly from advanced children's chapter books to YA and even adult books. When I think back to my middle school years I read books like The Outsiders, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Great Gatsby, but I also read complete trash like the TTYL series (that I can't believe my mom let me read) that was all most decidedly not middle grade. The books that I think came the closest to middle grade include the Araminta Spookie books that I first really got into in 4th or 5th grade I believe, maybe later, the Percy Jackson series (5th grade for that one), and The Girl Who Could Fly. Middle school was also where I became obsessed with Unwind, but that's a story for another day. As a whole though, I don't really remember reading much at all in middle school, and if I did middle grade wasn't something that really appealed to me because of how fantasy heavy it was.

Because of this, when I encounter middle grade out in the wild, I never know really how to grade it. While I'm confident in my abilities to rate YA and adult novels, simply because I've read a ton of those, middle grade of any kind stump me. I constantly wonder if I'm being too lenient on a book or too harsh on one, whether I expect too much or too little. And because I hate rating them, I avoid them and the cycle kind of repeats itself. Also, I don't like fantasy, and a lot of middle grade is fantasy which makes it easier to avoid. I suppose that middle grade is a good metaphor for the middle school years, though, since from what I remember people always used to expect too much of me or not enough. I guess if you wanted to be deep about it you could say that's why I stay away from middle grade- who wants to relive their middle school years?

Anyway, I picked this book up because it was recommended to me, sounded interesting, and was cheap enough for me to want it. I go through historical phases a lot, and right now I'm super into the 60s and the Cold War. Mostly the early sixties, though. I'm also trying to get back into historical fiction. I mean, it's not that my love for it has ever died or anything, it's that I really haven't been impressed with any of the new releases in this genre and have been having a hard time finding really great old ones. I'm also been getting sick of WWII (though The Last Lament is on my list). I don't know. I think the reasons thrillers have been standing out to me lately is because of all new and exciting things happening in the genre and the lack of sameness and repetition whereas the historical fiction genre lately is plagued by it. Also, I hate romance novels, and I don't know why, but there's something about historical fiction that draws romance writers. So A Night Divided, being about the Cold War and East Berlin and NOT WWII drew me in despite being middle grade.

And right away, my usual problems with middle grade started. My first potential criticism was that the author really liked to tell us her research as opposed to show it to us. We got a lot of paragraphs that were basically info-dumps, something I probably would have liked more if it all wasn't simplified and repetitive to me. This isn't Life: An Exploded Diagram, telling me straight up facts but in an amusing way. No, it was pretty dry, basic WWII/Cold War stuff. However, even as I wrote this complaint down in my notes, the nagging in my brain started again. "What if this stuff is typical of middle grade historical fiction? What if some twelve year old girl reads this book and decides she wants to know more about the Cold War and soon she wants to become a historian?" And this is where I hesitate. Look, I'm not one to give idea points, unless the idea is really, really cool. I don't give people who write books about "taboo" topics higher scores than those who don't because of their "bravery". That seems dishonest to me. But in this case, I waffled. Because the hard facts aren't really that bad or annoying, and I would love if middle schoolers got interested in history because of books like this. Apparently, I do give idea points to books that I think have some educational or interest value, especially if their target audience is bored middle schoolers with no interests besides shopping and boys and music. So in the end, I decided I didn't hate the factual paragraphs.

Next, I decided I didn't like the main character very much. I didn't hate her or anything, but she was the very typical strong, trouble making preteen girl, the kind of character I picture when I'm asked to picture a female protag from a middle grade/young YA novel. I mean she's harmless enough- she's got the kind of traits that would empower a preteen girl but she's also so vanilla girls can project themselves on her. I mean, when I was a preteen girl, I enjoyed inserting myself as the main character (albeit so I can mentally manipulate the story so that everything in it happens that I want to happen). But I was torn as to how much personality I was to expect from a middle grade novel. I mean, the girls in books I remember reading- Araminta Spookie, Piper McCloud, Annabeth Chase, all those girls had tons of personality (admittedly all of them had "spunky" as a character trait in some form- except maybe Araminta, but she was in a class by herself) and none of them had as bland character traits as Gerta. I think this is one of those cases where I can definitely take off points, based on my limited experience.

In a lot of cases, I was reminded of Code Name Verity. I mean, Code Name Verity was alright, but I will maintain it's not the shining star of the YA/middle grade historical fiction genre. Elizabeth Wein's a good writer, but she doesn't stand out to me in a crowd the way Ruta Sepetys does or Mal Peet did (I mean, she's harmless, but kind of unoriginal, basic YA HF, though she does have some good ideas) And when I say I was reminded of Code Name Verity, I don't really mean in a content way, though the idea of digging a tunnel across the boarder and the action at the end is something Elizabeth Wein would dream up. I mean mostly in the fact that everything works out in the end. Sure, people do die, but they weren't really people I could bring myself to care deeply about. Those who you knew would come around came around, there's an instance of bait-and-switch villainry (which is one of my least favorite tropes of all time because come on now, just commit already), and a heel-face turn coming from the mother about staying in East Berlin. At least there was no magical back from the dead moments. It reminded me, in a very unpleasant way, of the second half of Code Name Verity and how Wein kind of destroyed every good thing she set up. But I don't know. Maybe that's what the middle grade audience wants, though I remember liking it when authors killed characters off, provided they weren't characters I really liked. Now, even when I like someone, I want them to die if the situation calls for their death. But at the same time, I could also see myself as a 12 year old, cheering them on when they escaped in A Night Divided. I mean, this isn't 1984. You know they're going to succeed in their goals, regardless as to how realistic or not they are.

There was also some very simplistic stuff about communism and the communist government I wasn't that into. Though again, I can see why Nielsen would be wary about diving right into the nitty-gritty of communism the way Simon Sebag Montefiore or Anthony Marra or, hell, even Ruta Sepetys does. It's the same reason why middle school world history drops off after the Middle Ages, or why they teach Animal Farm in 7th grade as opposed to 1984. I don't think any 12 year old, 12 year old me included, could truly comprehend the horrors of both WWs, or the terror of communism from the everyday man trapped inside the system. 

The writing wasn't much either. Too juvenile for me to really appreciate it. I think I'm the worst at judging middle grade writing, mostly because it's been so many years since I've read an actual middle grade novel and not a graphic novel that I have no idea what good middle grade writing is.

So in the end, this is a solid read I would surely recommend to any middle schooler interested in the topic of the Cold War, or at least I would if I knew any middle schoolers. Mostly those from the ages of 10-13, though in my opinion 13 is a little pushing it and I would likely give them Code Name Verity (despite my issues with that book) or Rose Under Fire instead. And maybe this one, if they really liked those two. I didn't love it or hate it, but it did remind me how much I miss this genre, and that's not a bad thing at all.

6.5 out of 10

Girl in Snow by Danya Kukafka Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Nostalgia is my favorite emotion. It’s like, you think you know how to deal with the passage of time, but nostalgia will prove you wrong. You’ll press your fact into an old sweat shirt, or you’ll look at a familiar shade of paint on a front door, and you’ll be reminded of all the time that got away from you.”- Girl in Snow, Danya Kukafka

Who Are You When No One Is Watching?

When a beloved high schooler named Lucinda Hayes is found murdered, no one in her sleepy Colorado suburb is untouched—not the boy who loved her too much; not the girl who wanted her perfect life; not the officer assigned to investigate her murder. In the aftermath of the tragedy, these three indelible characters—Cameron, Jade, and Russ—must each confront their darkest secrets in an effort to find solace, the truth, or both.

It's no secret that I haven't been impressed with my "most anticipated" releases this year. From the disappointing The Roses of May to the laughably bad Violet Grenade to the even more disappointing The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue, I haven't been having much luck with the books I was actually planning on reading this year. And yet it's ironic that the one I've probably liked the most- this one- is the one that, as much as I wanted to read, I was preparing myself for disappointment. The reviews were all three stars give or take a half a star. And, ironically, perhaps preparing myself for disappointment is exactly what I needed to do the whole time, because I found myself pleasantly surprised by the book, much the same way I found myself pleasantly surprised by Night Film despite finding that novel under less than flattering means.

First the good, because there is a lot of it in this novel. Kukafka is a very good writer and I genuinely am excited to see where she goes next, because with a little more practice her writing can shine in a very Cormac McCarthy way. Her prose here reminded me of his prose in The Road, though I do prefer the writing in The Road. She was a little more verbose, and I had a hard time getting behind some of her characters' thoughts, feelings, and observations, which for me sometimes bordered on over the top and seemed unrealistic. However, I admire her restraint when it comes to things like dialogue; for the most part her characters spoke realistically and any obnoxious John Greenish monologues were appropriately absent. It was realistic that these deep, inner thoughts were confined to the mind and not spoken out loud except by accident, though I admit I would probably hate any of Jade's screenplays if they actually became movies. 

The characters were gripping too, and each were wholly unlike any other character I've encountered before. Well, that's an exaggeration, and now that I think about it I don't think it was necessarily the characters themselves that were original, I think it was the way that they were written. I'm not going to call them realistic, but you know what, I think I would end up disappointed if these characters were realistic. The book had a kind of mystical quality surrounding it that I really enjoyed, an almost unintentional one and I think a lot of that had to do with her lovely writing. It was an effortless, almost accidental mystical aura, one that many books (Pointe, Claw comes to mind) try and fail at. And, despite the outside world being mentioned, the town kind of had this snow globe-like feel to it, that I really enjoyed. Of all the characters, I think I liked Cameron the best, but frankly I don't really think I liked anyone all that much. They were fascinating to read about, though, and I had a hard time putting this book down at points.

All that said, I did think this book lost the plot for a while there and kind of got off track as a result. When that happened the beautiful prose got tiresome, and I wished that the editor had told her so. And while I did like how Lucinda always kind of had this flat presence to her, it was great commentary about how you never really know anyone, I wished she had more of a major presence in the novel. I got the feeling after awhile that it was somebody else's idea to have her write a thriller and she wasn't really too happy about it, but went along with it because character studies aren't really a big thing anymore. Eh, I don't know. All I do know is, if you were looking for a Paula Hawkins or Gillian Flynn thriller, this ain't it. I suppose that this type of mystery is more of a Tana French-type, though take away the police procedural elements. Which is disappointing and bears repeating- even though a cop is a main character, do not expect a police procedural.

The real reason, however, for the 7-7.5 is because of the ending. The ending was not very good, to say the least. Before, I was all set to give it an 8 or even 8.5. I said before I am an ending person, and this was an insult, to say the least. An out of left field character coming in last minute to put the blame off any of the other characters? No real motive for the murder except an affair? Come on now, that's cheap. Not to mention I really grew to hate Russ' story arc. While I was happy he kicked his cheating bitch of a wife out (I have no sympathy for cheaters, and I really grew to hate Ines by the end of the book) I wish he hadn't quit the police department and the whole "villainous police" thing felt tacked on. I didn't really understand why everyone hated Lieutenant Gonzales or Detective Williams when neither of them seemed like they did anything wrong, and there wasn't really a reason why he quit, he just kind of did it and acted like we were supposed to cheer him on. And I hated Ivan, even though I was supposed to like him. While normally I do believe in the moral greyness of people, I don't reject the idea of evil. Because frankly, there's a lot of evil in this world, mostly consisting of people who do anything to children. That's not me being a blind, bigoted puppet, that's just the only word I can think of to describe people like Adam Lanza or the person that bombed the Ariana Grande concert or the guys that did the Cheshire home invasion (the one time I've ever been mad at the overturning of a death sentence and the thing that solidified my intense dislike of the ACLU- their comments after the overturn made me think rather unChristian thoughts). It got to the point where at the end of the book I wished Ivan actually did it. 

That wasn't the only way the ending was disappointing. The characters kind of complained about their lives for most of the book and then suddenly everything was fixed? I also noticed that every time Kukafka doesn't know what to do with a character she makes him into a villain for no apparent reason. Like Cameron's friend Ronny. Or the killer. It didn't strike me as the best way of telling a story.

But as a whole, I did enjoy the book and wished I could give it a higher score than I did. Unfortunately, too often in the final quarter, mystery novels blow up for me, and this one is no exception. However, I am happy to keep it at a relatively high score, and am excited for her sophomore novel. I will be definitely watching Danya Kukafka, hoping that her books go someplace I like. 

7-7.5 out of 10

The Lost Crown by Sarah Miller Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I'd like to know how anyone can write the truth about us if we've never met.”- The Lost Crown, Sarah Miller

Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia. Like the fingers on a hand--first headstrong Olga; then Tatiana, the tallest; Maria the most hopeful for a ring; and Anastasia, the smallest. These are the daughters of Tsar Nicholas II, grand duchesses living a life steeped in tradition and privilege. They are each on the brink of starting their own lives, at the mercy of royal matchmakers. The summer of 1914 is that precious last wink of time when they can still be sisters together--sisters that link arms and laugh, sisters that share their dreams and worries, and flirt with the officers of their imperial yacht.

But in a gunshot the future changes for these sisters and for Russia.

As World War I ignites across Europe, political unrest sweeps Russia. First dissent, then disorder, mutiny, and revolution. For Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia, the end of their girlhood together is colliding with the end of more than they ever imagined.

At the same time hopeful and hopeless, naive and wise, the voices of these sisters become a chorus singing the final song of Imperial Russia. Impeccably researched and utterly fascinating, this novel by acclaimed author Sarah Miller recounts the final days of Imperial Russia with lyricism, criticism and true compassion.

As I said in my The Romanov Sisters review, OTMA has a special place in my heart because they were the first royal family I ever got into. In fact, my best friend at the time and I got really into them together, but in different ways. I was more into the facts about how they lived and their lives, and I never really gave any credence to the rumors of Anastasia's survival, preferring instead the truth that they all died together. My friend, on the other hand, was a dreamer rather than historian (as I am) and loved the idea of Anna Anderson and the Anastasia movie and all the romantic ideas of her survival. Somehow, I think this book would have been the happy medium between our two very conflicting views of the Romanov girls.

I don't know how this novel escaped my notice for so long. Well, actually I do. I hate historical romance and princess books and especially Romanov fictional books, because all of them are notoriously bad. Of course, maybe I just encountered unusually shitty ones and am taking it out on all of them, which isn't fair to them. In fact, I have a rule- no fictional books about real people- which is okay to break in certain situations but for the most part I just end up disappointed (See Gilt and Tarnish and my ratings on the Prisoner of Night and Fog duology). And I went into this book expected it to be okay or downright bad. And my expectations were exceeded completely, and I left with a huge amount of respect for Sarah Miller.

I could tell she actually cared deeply about doing her subjects justice. While some of the girls' traits did come across as a bit historical fiction cliche, they worked well with all of the sisters' individual personalities and felt believable She didn't attempt to manipulate each sister into being something she wasn't in real life because the author wanted her to be that way. Even when she added certain things (like Olga's unusual perceptiveness) she was sure to note it in her author's note and admit that she did it for the sake of the story, something I admired and could forgive her for. She really endeavored to capture each girls' individuality and the way they felt about certain things, like their mother or father or the state of the country. I also liked that Miller kept in the girls' religiosity, something that was a huge definer in their lives, instilled in them by their father and mother. Rasputin also wasn't demonized in this book, which is realistic given that there is evidence the girls liked him and respected him deeply as both a faith healer and a holy man. 

Are there issues? Of course. The girls' voices blend together to the point where, despite each having defining traits, I still had a hard time remembering whose chapter I was on. For some reason, though, I wasn't really that bothered by it. Also, the names were inconsistently transliterated- Nicholas, for example, is Nicholas some places and Nikolai other places. I can forgive this one, since most in the Western world know him as Tsar Nicholas II and not Tsar Nikolai II but the Tsarvich is Aleksey and not Alexei or even Alexis (the proper English equivalent of Aleksey and likely what he would have been called had he been on the throne). Of course, transliteration is confusing, but I wish she stuck to one system and not bounced around. Also, occasionally the book does suffer from historical name dropping. Like in the case of one particularly silted piece of dialogue, when Alexandra mentions that her "grandmother, Queen Victoria," taught her how to make beds, when there would have been no reason for her specifically say Queen Victoria because it was common knowledge that Victoria was her grandmother. Not that big a deal, but still, that stuck out to me.

Also, a correction- Alix is not a nickname for Alexandra, it was her name at birth. Back then, men and women often changed their name or went by a middle name when ruling, because it made them more relatable to the people of their country. It's the same reason why England's never had a King David or King Albert. 

The epilogue and author's note was also one of the best I've seen. She does not give any airplay to the ridiculous "Anastasia escaped" idea- though she doesn't ever explicitly say it's BS, she makes it clear that all bodies were found and no one could have gotten out alive. I loved that- too often authors writing about the Romanovs feel the need to fall into that trap, and is the reason why I avoid most Romanov fiction in the first place.

But overall, I really liked this book. And I definitely would have loved it if I was first getting into either historical fiction or the Romanov sisters. While the writing was a bit too juvenile and the story was kind of repetitive (at times, it felt like I was reading a fictional version of the Rapport book I mentioned earlier), and I did feel like it rushed a bit, it was still a novel I'd recommend to anyone who wants to learn more about these girls. It's not perfect, but it's good enough, and by far one of the best princess books I've ever read. I wish Sarah Miller would write more of these kinds of books. I'd read them.

8.5 out of 10

If you liked this book, you may also like:

Anastasia: The Last Grand Duchess, Russia, 1914 by Carolyn Meyer

The Romanov Sisters by Helen Rapport

Pointe, Claw by Amber J Keyser Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I am far bigger than the skin that holds me.”- Pointe, Claw, Amber J Keyser

Jessie Vale dances in an elite ballet program that requires perfection to land a spot with the professional company. When she is cast in an animalistic avant garde production, her careful composure cracks wide open. Nothing has felt more dangerous.

Meanwhile, her friend Dawn McCormick's world is full of holes. She wakes in strange places, bruised, battered, and unable to speak. The doctors are out of ideas.

These childhood friends are both running out of time. Jessie has one shot at her ballet dream. Dawn's blackouts are getting worse. At every turn, they crash into the many ways girls are watched, judged, used, and discarded. Should they play it safe or go feral?

For some reason, I've always been draw to ballet. I've never danced ballet beyond a Parks and Rec program, but I find ballet to be so classically beautiful and, well, elegant, everything I love. Degas is one of my favorite painters, because of it. So I picked up Pointe, Claw, because it reminded me of several other YA ballet books that, well, I didn't like per say, but it seemed like a safe pick. 

Right away, I could tell that Keyser takes herself way too seriously. I got this impression from both the summary and the author bio in the back, in which she told us exactly what she was trying to do with the book, which was apparently trying to answer some philosophical question nobody really cares about. That struck me as a slightly narcissistic move, like she was trying to show off how smart she was even though she's writing a YA novel about sick kids and ballerinas, which is more common than you'd think it is (like Maybe One Day and Side Effects May Vary).

And the book does come across as a vanity project. The abstract prose and open, slightly confusing ending just came across as the author majorly feeling herself and her intelligence. I mean, the writing's very pretty, I'll give her that, but also screams of pretension. The narrative style and characters made me think Keyser was trying to be Wintergirls-era Laurie Halse Anderson, but Wintergirls was a more successful novel because Anderson seemed more genuine and like she wasn't writing the book because she wanted to show off her brain. I'm starting to also think Keyser really wants to be Anais Nin, what with the abstract and erotic nature of her prose.

I feel like a big part of what Keyser was also trying to do in this novel is shock people. She wanted to write a controversial novel involving female sexuality, and none of those parts honestly felt genuine either. The constant references to masturbation and sex and strippers felt like a little kid who just learned how to swear, so he drops f-bombs left and right to try and get a rise out of people. Eh. I suppose in that respect it's very avant garde of her. Shocking for the sake of being shocking, amiright? Seriously though, it got to the point where I could have a fucking drinking game for every time masturbation is brought up and it's mentioned in the oddest of places, like Keyser always has to remind us girls do it too. 

Actually, the avant garde ballet that's the center of Jessie's parts is a great metaphor for this book. It wants to be wild and animalistic yet also beautiful, yet when I read about it it comes across as an unintentional parody of the whole movement. It's funny in a way I don't think it should be because of how overwritten it is. And yet, no one wants to say it's bad, because then they will be accused of "not understanding it". So of course, the ballet gets a standing ovation and the book gets 4 and 5 stars from everyone, and I'm over here wondering if I'm broken because the emperor's naked to me. On a lighter note, the avant garde scenes also remind me of the "Choreography" number in White Christmas. I love that movie. 

Anyway, I also didn't really like the characters very much. Jessie had no personality whatsoever and Dawn was just so darned special. She wanted to find out what's wrong with her but rejected every fucking diagnoses all the "condescending" doctors gave her, dismissing them all as being sexist and often withholding information because she didn't want to get an answer she didn't agree with. Personally it sounded like most of her issues were psychosomatic- the mind is a powerful thing- but I'm far from a doctor. I think the thing that pissed me off the most was that she wanted to be a fucking scientist and she didn't even listen to any of her doctors. It seems like she just wanted to be miserable the rest of her life, and frankly it got to the point where I couldn't blame her stepdad for wanting to kick her out because who would want to live with a girl like that, a girl who you can't even say hello to someone without her telling him about all the parasites that could kill you. 

Also, I feel the need to discuss the scene in the book involving marbles. The fact that the girls were nine years old in that scene and doing those very adult things made me think something was seriously wrong. And Keyser described it in loving detail, making it clear she didn't think the two girls were doing anything wrong and that they were "making each other feel good" made me sick. She does realize that that's how a pedophile explains his actions to his victim, right? And then there's the fact that they were nine years old, too old to want to dance around naked. The parents were right in punishing their kids for that. Those kids should not have been doing that or anything else sexual at that age, and it made me wonder what happened in Keyser's past that she would ever think that was okay for a pair of kids to do, regardless of sex. 

So I did not like it. Sure, on the surface the book seems so seductively pretty, but once you look in deeper you realize the water's actually pretty shallow. There is nothing behind those pretty words, even though it seems like it at first.

4 out of 10

The Killing Lessons by Saul Black Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“All fear was, in the end, fear of death. Once you knew you were dying, there was nothing left fear. It gave you the last great gift, infinite courage.”- The Killing Lessons, Saul Black

When the two strangers turn up at Rowena Cooper's isolated Colorado farmhouse, she knows instantly that it's the end of everything. For the two haunted and driven men, on the other hand, it's just another stop on a long and bloody journey. And they still have many miles to go, and victims to sacrifice, before their work is done.

For San Francisco homicide detective Valerie Hart, their trail of victims--women abducted, tortured and left with a seemingly random series of objects inside them--has brought her from obsession to the edge of physical and psychological destruction. And she's losing hope of making a breakthrough before that happens.

But the murders at the Cooper farmhouse didn't quite go according to plan. There was a survivor, Rowena's ten-year-old daughter Nell, who now holds the key to the killings. Injured, half-frozen, terrified, Nell has only one place to go. And that place could be even more dangerous than what she's running from.

In this extraordinary, pulse-pounding debut, Saul Black takes us deep into the mind of a psychopath, and into the troubled heart of the woman determined to stop him.

I'm a horrible flyer. I say this a lot because it needs to be said a lot. So, when I fly I look for the book that's the most likely to take my mind off the fact that any minute now, I could be spiraling down towards my demise. I like books that are quick, bloody reads. So on my trip to New Orleans, I was sure I packed as many violent books as possible to keep my mind occupied on the four (4!) flights I had to take there and back (damn you, Newark, for not having any express flights!). 

Enter The Killing Lessons. The reviews, all by popular thriller writers, some I've read and some I haven't, were all pretty gruesome so I was looking forward to it. And my first impressions were positive. The writing was good, the book opened in a suitably bloody way, I liked the crime elements, so far, so good.

I did really end up liking pretty much all the characters, though none of them really came real to me. I think Saul Black definitely is a remarkably talented writer, especially for his debut novel. The scenes he set up were wonderful, and he knew not to skimp on violence and gore that should be in a novel called The Killing Lessons. In a lot of respects, this is what I wished The Roses of May was more like. An interesting villain, though perhaps one with a cliche past, a good female detective to follow around, one who didn't do much moping around about sexism, and a fascinating case to follow. 

Despite all these positive things, this book isn't flawless, although because he's a debut author I feel inclined to blame most of the problems with the book on his debutness. Not the writing necessarily, because the writing was both good and consistent, but the plot had some things that I wasn't too keen on. For instance, I think there was too much focus on sex. While a scene or two here or there is okay, it was a constant presence in the book to the point where it became distracting and honestly felt unnecessary. A lot was also centered around the personal life- mostly love life- of Hart, and I just couldn't bring myself to care enough. And I do think Black had a lot going on in his brain when writing this and it took me a while to figure out how he was going to weave these two very different plot lines together- or rather, how he was going to weave them together successfully.

Which brings me nicely to my next point. The pacing of this novel wasn't the best I ever saw. It dragged horribly in the middle, with Hart and Blasko's endless backstory, the main villain being sick (this was the kind of decision that debut thriller authors usually make in order to buy their victim some time to make the escape you knew they were going to make. I hate hate hate that decision), and the pages of nothing Nell and the old man were getting up to. But towards the end it picked back up, we saw lots of action, and I did end up liking how Black was able to pull it together.

I can see Black shining someday in the crime thriller genre, turning out twisted and complex Valerie Hart thrillers, and I'd be happy about it too. While it's true he's not on the same level as Tana French, I'd still definitely be interested in where he goes next. He's a thriller writer to watch. I'm already looking forward to whenever I can get my hands on Lovemurder.

8 out of 10