Category Archives: mystery

Chaos, by Patricia Cornwell*****

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chaos Patricia Cornwell has a publisher that doesn’t love bloggers, but her books kick ass. For this reason, this white-knuckle thriller was one of perhaps half a dozen books on my Christmas wish list for 2016. So here, in this spot where I traditionally thank the publisher and the site that facilitates them, I will instead thank Benjamin, his lovely wife Amie, and their baby boy. Between them, they gave me three delicious books, but this is the one I had to flip open as soon as the Christmas celebration was over; excuse me everyone, but I am off to bed with my box of Christmas candy and Patricia Cornwell. I am just now getting to the review, since DRCs get first priority, but I gobbled this book up before the New Year holiday.

Authors like Cornwell that write strong, long running thriller series have their work cut out for them. Whereas a debut novel and perhaps a few that follow can run along traditional lines, being trapped in a dark building with a killer on the premises somewhere; stuffed into the trunk of a vehicle (or the back seat with a gag and blindfold); held at gun point; family members kidnapped; it cannot go on forever. Eventually even the most faithful of readers is unwilling to buy into it anymore. Oh come on. No you didn’t.

The best of these writers—here I am thinking of Cornwell along with Sue Grafton, Sara Paretsky, James Lee Burke, GM Ford, and I know you are thinking of several more as you read this review—find a way to make the series deeper and richer through character development. There’s more inner narrative perhaps, and the tension is more of the psychological variety than constant action. And at this point in a series, the reader that really does want nonstop action will howl and toss down their book, but many others, myself among them, find myself more bonded to the character. And so it is with Kay Scarpetta, one of my favorite long running series protagonists.

This story is set in Boston, and at the outset, Kay is receiving some disturbing communications on her phone. The worst thing about them is that they play without her choosing to open them, and then they vanish, so she has no proof they were ever there. It doesn’t take long for her to conclude that the hack has been effected by nemesis Carrie Grethen, ex-lover of her beloved niece Lucy, whom she raised like a daughter and loves like no one else. Grethen has become Scarpetta’s Moriarty over the last several novels in this series. And Scarpetta wonders what these have to do with the young woman murdered in the park, a woman she spoke to briefly at an art exhibit and ran into later.

One of the things I love about this series is that Cornwell is unafraid to use her vocabulary. If someone out there doesn’t have the literacy level for it, let them stretch themselves to read this, or let them go away. In this era in which some writers are dumbing down their prose to meet the marketplace of American consumers with decreasing literacy levels, it’s a joy and a pleasure to find one that does not. The prose is richer, the descriptions more resonant than if she’d done otherwise.
As the story progresses, this psychological thriller takes on the contours of a nightmare in which everyone dear to Scarpetta—husband Benton, who’s with the FBI, Lucy, and Pete Marino—are all behaving in ways that make Scarpetta wonder whether they are deceiving her. Since every one of them has done so once before, the reader doesn’t regard Kay as paranoid, but rather fears for her.
Added into the picture is Kay’s sister Dorothy, who is Lucy’s mother. Kay and Dorothy hold a great deal of antagonism for one another, and an added twist is thrown in regarding sister Dorothy provides a huge surprise.

I note that cop Pete Marino, depicted in episodes gone by as a deeply flawed and disturbed individual, has been rehabilitated. Cornwell has tidied him up and Scarpetta has mostly forgiven his misdeeds of the past.

Should you pay full freight for this title? If you are a fan of the series and enjoyed the last one or two before this one, the answer is emphatically yes. Those new to the series might want to go for an earlier entry, as the series is much more fun when read in order. As of this writing, I also note that it’s available used online for less than five bucks, plus shipping charges. For others that are unsure, do remember that to develop character, Cornwell has to include a lot of details that have to do with the protagonist’s personal life. Some mystery readers just want the corpse, the puzzle, the guns, the action, and so if that describes you, see if you can read a sample before investing.

For fans of the series and of psychological thrillers, this book is highly recommended.

Every Dead Thing, by John Connolly****

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everydeadthing“Our ancestors were not wrong in their superstitions; there is reason to fear the dark.”

This is the first entry of the Charlie Parker series, and I recently read and reviewed the newest one, so it is interesting to go back and see how the series begins. Thank you to Net Galley and Atria Books for the DRC, which I read free in exchange for an honest review.

The story commences with flashbacks to the brutal murder and mutilation of Parker’s wife and daughter. I have to confess that it went over the top for me and at times was too grim to be an enjoyable read. This newly released edition begins with introductory notes by the author in which he acknowledges that many readers also felt this way, so I know I am not alone. Everyone has a threshold. But I went into the story knowing that I want to read this series and that although it will always remain gritty and violent, it won’t always be this harsh, so I moved on, and I am glad I did.

The fact is, Connolly is an outstanding writer.

Parker is a shipwreck of a human being, a former cop with a sorrowful heart and not much to lose. He is determined to find the psychopath that killed his wife and child, and it appears that the same killer has taken a woman named Catherine. Her phone records show numerous calls, shortly before her disappearance, to the tiny southern town where she was born and raised. He grabs his wallet and heads south with two terrifyingly competent assistants, Angel and Louis, guys that are shady but loyal, and strong as hell. They are also a couple, and this adds an interesting twist, not to mention crushing a stereotype. Actually, these two characters are my favorites in this story, and I especially enjoy the scene in the auto shop.

Another wonderful feature is the swamp witch in the bayou.

Some aspects of this novel seem a bit derivative, in particular the long cast of characters with unusual names seems a lot like James Lee Burke. Ed McBain, iconic author of the 87th Precinct series, has a prominent character named Fat Ollie, a name Connolly uses for one of his characters here.

But there’s no denying the lyrical quality to the work that is entirely Connolly’s own, and as I have already seen, it just gets better from here. The plotting is complex, tight, and intense. It’s a strong debut.

Those that love good mysteries that run on the gritty side will want to read this series. You can read them out of order; I started with the fourteenth and didn’t feel there were enough missing pieces to prevent my understanding the story line. On the other hand, there’s nobody out there that can write as fast as we can read, and so why not start at the top and run all the way through the series?

This re-released edition of Every Dead Thing is for sale now.

The Mercy of the Tide, by Keith Rosson****

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themercyofthe The Mercy of the Tide is Keith Rosson’s debut novel, and it’s a strong one. Set in a tiny, depressed town on the Oregon Coast during the Reagan Administration, things start out dark, and they’re about to get a whole lot darker. Thank you, Net Galley and Meerkat Press for the DRC, which I received free of charge for this honest review. This book will be for sale February 21, 2017, and those that love good fiction with a working class perspective will want a copy.

The tiny town of Riptide, Oregon is knee deep in grief. A recent head-on collision claimed the lives of Melissa Finster, mother of Sam and Trina, and June Dobbs, the town’s beloved librarian and wife of Sheriff Dave Dobbs. The blow has left everyone reeling and on edge.

Someone else is missing Melissa too, though he can’t say so. Deputy Nick Hayslip–a Vietnam veteran who has no patience for the madness associated with that category, a vet who figures that you go home when the war is over, you put on your clothes and go to work and therapy is for losers–is coming unstuck. Nobody knows about his past with Melissa, and he finds terrible ways to keep her memory alive.

The teaser for this novel tells us that the story centers around Sam and Trina, and since the author generally writes the teaser, that must be his intention. However, I found Trina to be the weakest element here, and it was the other characters that made this story work for me. Part of this is just pure fickle bad luck for the author; I actually taught deaf kids of the same age as Trina, as well as gifted kids that age; and in one instance, a gifted deaf kid that age. It’s true that the gifts of highly capable children vary widely in scope and range, and that every child is unique, but the vocabulary and abstract concepts Rosson bestows on this kid are just not within the realm of the possible, and so Trina isn’t real to me until later in the book, when things other than her obsession with nuclear holocaust are used in the development of her character.

The most interesting character and unlikely hero here is Hayslip. Also beautifully developed are Sheriff Dodds and Sam’s closest friend, Todd, known familiarly as “Toad”. Alternating points of view from the third person omniscient give us ready access to their thoughts, impulses, and feelings.

An interesting side character is zealous Christian wingnut Joe Lyley, who says in a somewhat uncharacteristic understatement, “These are unlovely times.” I also liked Leon Davies, whose role I will let the reader discover, because it’s such a fun surprise.

The setting is almost an anti-tourist brochure. The Oregon Coast is well known for its wild, rugged beauty, but Rosson chooses to introduce the other reality, that of the many local denizens that endure a hardscrabble working class existence in small, chilly, damp coastal communities that rarely see the sun. The moldering smell of rotting wood, porches and floors with a sponge-like give under foot are dead accurate, although the town of Riptide is fictitious; the recession of the 80’s plunged small beach towns into a depression from which there has never been a moment’s relief.

This is a strong story with a tight, tense climax and a powerful resolution. This darkly delicious novel shows that Rosson is a force to be reckoned with; I look forward to seeing more of his work in the future.

Heartbreak Hotel, by Jonathan Kellerman*****

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Happy release day! Fans of Kellerman’s are in luck; this one is for sale today.

seattlebookmama's avatarSeattle Book Mama

heartbreakhotelThis is #32 in the Alex Delaware series, and Kellerman’s writing just seems to get better with every entry. Thanks go to Net Galley and Random House Ballantine for the DRC, which I received free in exchange for this honest review.

For those unfamiliar with the series, Alex Delaware is a semi-retired child psychologist who’s also an adrenaline junkie. His nest is already well padded, his wife still happy in her career, and so he spends most of his time assisting his best friend, an LA homicide detective named Milo Sturgis. The premise is the hardest thing to swallow, but Kellerman makes it easier by letting us know how affluent Delaware is, and recently there’s the added twist that because Sturgis is gay, nobody on the force really wants to be his partner. Thus it seems more natural—for the sake of a good yarn—for Delaware to slip into that position…

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Heartbreak Hotel, by Jonathan Kellerman*****

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heartbreakhotelThis is #32 in the Alex Delaware series, and Kellerman’s writing just seems to get better with every entry. Thanks go to Net Galley and Random House Ballantine for the DRC, which I received free in exchange for this honest review.

For those unfamiliar with the series, Alex Delaware is a semi-retired child psychologist who’s also an adrenaline junkie. His nest is already well padded, his wife still happy in her career, and so he spends most of his time assisting his best friend, an LA homicide detective named Milo Sturgis. The premise is the hardest thing to swallow, but Kellerman makes it easier by letting us know how affluent Delaware is, and recently there’s the added twist that because Sturgis is gay, nobody on the force really wants to be his partner. Thus it seems more natural—for the sake of a good yarn—for Delaware to slip into that position. After all, he’s been doing it for years.

This story involves the homicide of a nearly one-hundred-years-old woman that has consulted Delaware. She paid him generously for his time but confided little about what she planned to do with the information he found for her, and so when she is found dead in her bed, he smells a rat. Sure enough; she was suffocated! Now who would do that to a sweet old lady like Thalia Mars?

Our story takes a million deft twists and clever turns, and in general shows us that what we think we see isn’t always real. We encounter some underhanded, sleazy real estate practices as well as insurance fraud along the way. The case also takes in some interesting LA history.

One aspect of Kellerman’s work that I often forget and then am happily surprised by all over again, is the humor he threads through the narrative, and I laughed out loud more than once.

Although it’s only one page in length, some readers will also want to be aware there’s one graphic, brutal rape. Consider your trigger warned.

At the end of the day, stories such as this one can be curiously comforting. It’s true that tax season is just around the corner, and my toaster just died. But after reading this novel, I can find comfort in knowing that no villains are likely to turn up in my bedroom tonight and burk me in my sleep.  Perspective! There you have it.

This fun story, which went by way too quickly, will be available to the public February 14, 2017. Highly recommended to those that love a good mystery.

Turbo Twenty-Three, by Janet Evanovich**-***

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turbotwentytI’ve been a big fan of the Stephanie Plum series since Evanovich launched it over twenty years ago.Twenty? Whoa now, that hardly seems possible. But the first book in the series landed a host of great-first-book awards in 1995, the year before my youngest child was born.  I haven’t missed a single book nor even read any of them out of sequence.

There was a point somewhere along the way when the series started to lose its zip and some of the new fuel the writer injected turned sour. Does anyone recall the bit where Stephanie’s sister moves home from out of state, and one of the sister’s daughters thinks she’s a horse? It was beyond stupid to my way of thinking, but the point is that our author pulled it all back around within the next couple of books and it was funnier and fresher than ever. The last in the series, Tricky Twenty-Two, was an absolute scream, and so although I rarely purchase a book for myself anymore, I plunk #23 onto my Christmas wish list without a moment’s hesitation. And when Christmas is done, I scurry off with my four much-longed-for new books—three of them mysteries– and prepare to feast.

So this is a crushing disappointment. Sad, sad, sad. It isn’t funny enough to actually laugh at even once, and there are aspects of it that actually offend. I consider this sort of odd, given that since her movie deal, Evanovich has actually sanitized a lot of the spicier aspects of her work. The language isn’t nearly as blue as it was when she was new at this thing and had little to lose; the sex isn’t as steamy; and all told, it seems as if her imagination has an agent of its own whispering into its ear, asking just exactly how much revenue she’s willing to risk losing if she pursues this, that, the other creative but risqué notion.

How is it possible then that for the first time in a career of over twenty years and nearly two dozen published mysteries in this series alone, this author has been so politically tone deaf?

As I read one scene involving Stephanie and Lula, a pairing that’s almost always good for a laugh, my face was in a tentative smile, the expression one wears when expecting something funny to happen any minute. And that’s the moment when Lula claims to be extra lucky when seeking employment, because she can check off three boxes; she’s Black, she’s female, and she’s large in size. These should just about ensure that she’ll be hired. And then she tops it off by allowing that the only better thing that could happen would be if she were in an altercation with a cop and got beaten up and landed on YouTube.

Once I see this, I’m not laughing, and now I’m not smiling anymore either. It’s time to put the book away, read something else, and come back later when my blood pressure has settled.

The story continues; it isn’t funny, but it also isn’t dull. My attention is held, and I’m still somewhat convinced that it’s just about to get funny. And that’s when Lula says she is going to make money online by pretending to wake up one day “feeling like I’m a dude” and go use the men’s restroom. She’ll go in, “have my positive experience”, capture it on film and get rich. And of course, there are trans people all over America getting filthy rich just by identifying with a different gender than the one assigned them by nature and their parents…right?

Not so much.

I do find two amusing parts in this story. The first is some understated business with Stephanie’s parents. It’s the only subtle humor she employs, and maybe that’s why it works so well. I love seeing her mom and dad respond to uncomfortable situations.

The second is an entirely unexpected yet believable twist on the whole Morelli-or-Ranger thing, which had begun to go stale. I won’t spoil it for you, because you may still want to read this book.

One other obvious twist is that the writing, which has always been accessible to a reader that’s made it part way through high school, has been dumbed-down considerably. I find myself distracted by the number of four and five word sentences; where’s the fluency? I check the vocabulary and recognize that she’s dialed it down to a fourth grade level. I’ve administered vocabulary tests to fourth and fifth graders, and I find myself having flashbacks of the sort a retired teacher doesn’t really need. What the hell, Janet? Are we marketing to the functionally semi-literate now?

Nevertheless, I’ll be reading #24 when it comes down the pike; but not until I can get it used or free. My wish list is now reserved for other things.

The Fifth Petal, by Brunonia Barry***

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thefifthpetalA teenage boy named Billy Barnes dies on Halloween night; everyone knows that he was trouble, and no one is too surprised to see him come to a bad end. But police chief John Rafferty has a job to do, and he sets out to discover who the killer is. The setting is Salem, Massachusetts, the location of the Salem Witch Trials centuries ago and now the Mecca of Wiccans and others that practice witchcraft of various types, not to mention throngs of tourists that show up every autumn.  Chief Rafferty wonders what the connection is between this murder and those of 25 years earlier, dubbed “The Goddess Murders”.

Thanks go to Net Galley and Crown for the DRC, which I received free in exchange for an honest review. This book will be available to the public January 24, 2017.

Barry is an experienced novelist, but her work is new to me. This title can be read as a stand-alone novel, but there’s a tremendous amount of detail here. Perhaps having read The Lace Reader, an earlier novel that other reviewers tell us has some of the same characters that are present here, would make this book less complicated and easier to sort through; then again, if Barry had chosen fewer secondary threads to follow, the reader could relax more and enjoy the book anyway. More on that in a minute.

Rose Whelan is a Salem native, has shouldered the “unofficial blame” for the Goddess Murders; she maintains that a banshee took up residence in her body and left her with no choice. Rose has gone from the psych ward, to homelessness, and back again; Rafferty and his wife Towner have offered her a room indoors, but she won’t leave the tree outside their home for long at a time, lest bad things happen. She has bad memories, and they give her unquiet dreams:

“On that horrible night, after it happened, after the shrieking stopped, the world had quieted and then disappeared.  Rose had found herself staring into an eternal emptiness that stretched in every direction and went on forever.  When the keening began, Rose had believed that the sound was coming from her own lips. Then she’d seen the tree limbs and branches start to move with the breath of the sound itself, their last leaves burning in the black sky like crackling paper. Then the trees had begun to speak.  Come away now, the trees had said. Come away.”

The imagery here is amazing, as you can see; this aspect is the story’s greatest strength.

Our protagonist is Callie, who’s new in town. Rose had been her surrogate mother after her mother, one of the Goddesses, died. She had lost contact with her and is stunned to find her in such bad shape.  Brunonia does a fine job of highlighting the challenges of helping the homeless, not to mention the stereotypes that follow them. There’s a lot of Celtic lore that I also really like reading about.

The parts that disturb me are those throughout the book that reinforce the stereotype of women as being constantly in competition with one another, unable to get along and help each other.

However, the main thing that gets in the way of this being a really great read is the vast amount of detail about way too many things. At the 60 percent mark, my notes indicate that I wish the author would decide what, other than the primary plot line of the whodunit, she wants to feature. We have witches past; witches of the present; mean nuns; and way more about the healing properties of quartz bowls than I ever want to hear about. At this point in the book I am ready to throw in the towel and call it a 2 star read; I felt as if the mystery had degenerated into a New Age infomercial. I note that I can scarcely recall who’s dead, and who’s accused.  But it’s a DRC and I have an obligation, so I forge on.

And that diagram! The diagram of a five-petal flower is created, changed and discussed in such infinite, numbing detail that my eyes are half-crossed by the time we make our way to the climax. Once we’re there, though, the story becomes more cohesive and I like the way she resolves it.

Those that have read Barry’s other books and liked them will enjoy this one; likewise those that are drawn to various aspects of modern spiritual healing and Wiccan practices will also be pleased. For myself, I would enjoy her work more if she didn’t try to jam such an extensive collection of minutiae into a single novel.

The Woman Who Walked in Sunshine, by Alexander McCall Smith*****

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thewomanwhowalkedThe first week or two after Christmas is a sumptuous period for me as a reader. Nearly every book I read these days, fiction or non-, is a DRC, or Direct Reader’s Copy sent to me digitally by publishers via Net Galley in exchange for an honest review.  However, each year there are invariably half a dozen titles, sometimes more, that I really want to read and haven’t been able to obtain free of charge. Sometimes I discover a book after it’s already been published some time ago, and sometimes it’s a book that I couldn’t get as a DRC. These books land on my wish list, and my family is faithful in purchasing them and placing them, clad in pretty paper and ribbon, beneath our Christmas tree. By Christmas night, I’m snuggled deep beneath a pile of fluffy covers, my spouse and hound dog snoring sonorously while I immerse myself in the books I am just about guaranteed to love, bathed in a soft yellow bedside light. This ritual is as significant to me as the more widespread traditions of feasting, wrapping gifts, and hanging stockings. I can’t recall a Christmas without it.

This year we had our gift exchange on Christmas Eve, and by bedtime I was snuggled up in flannel and reading this paperback book, the 16th in the series. The series, for those unfamiliar, is of the cozy variety rather than the pulse-pounding thrillers that absorb a good portion of my reading life. Precious Romotswe is the owner and founder of the #1 Ladies Detective Agency, and a good portion of those that read this book will already be familiar, as I am, with the main characters and their stories. Mma (Ms.) Ramotswe is married to JLB Matekone, who owns and runs the automobile repair shop adjacent to the detective agency; Mma Makutsi , Mma Ramotswe’s eccentric but capable assistant, believes that it’s time for her mentor to take a vacation. And indeed, Precious has never gone on holiday before; it’s about time, isn’t it?

Mma Ramotswe is reluctant. She hates to leave her business in anyone else’s hands; then too, she’s disconcerted when she learns that her husband, his employees, and her own assistants have discussed her need for time off when she wasn’t present. Is it a conspiracy, or is it loving concern?

The mysteries to be solved include the problem on which the temporary assistant hired on for the duration of Mma Ramotswe’s holiday stumbles; an additional situation involving a child named Samuel, an orphan who’s been trained to shake down drivers for coins in exchange for not damaging their cars; and a new school bearing her signature “#1 Ladies” logo, which appears to be not only misappropriating her trademark, but shady in other ways as well. Yet much of the story is dedicated to character development and the personal lives of the main characters, and it’s this that keeps me coming back.

Ultimately, the story is about trust, kindness, and learning to let go sometimes.

It occurred to me for the first time that I don’t know how the majority of Botswana feels about this series. McCall is a native-born Botswanan with Scottish predecessors. Are these characters true to the way the people of color in Botswana see themselves and their people?

Yet another part of me recalls that we are in the land of fiction. Unless I see some sign that the series is objectionable or offensive to those it represents, it will continue to be a happy retreat for me.

Highly recommended to those that love a cozy mystery and an opportunity to drop their blood pressure; the mesmerizing cadence here is better for us than any bottle of pills, and far cheaper than therapy.

Best of 2016: Mystery

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This category includes everything within the same zone: thrillers, suspense, detective fiction, crime fiction. If it’s related, I’m rating it here. I expected this to be my toughest call because I read so many books of this genre, but when I had a look at the original titles I’d seen this year, and then eliminated those crossover novels that had already been awarded as the best of some other genre on this site, it was down to three books. Unbelievable…but not at all mysterious.

MY TOP THREE:

https://seattlebookmamablog.org/2016/07/12/salvation-lake-by-g-m-ford/

 

The Roanoke Girls, by Amy Engel*****

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theroanokegirlsAmy Engel makes her debut as a writer of adult fiction with this title, having begun her career writing fiction for young adults. The Roanoke Girls is smoking hot, a barn burner of a book, diving into some of society’s deepest taboos and yanking them from the shadows into the bright rays of Kansas sunshine, where the story is set, for us to have a look at them. It’s not available to the public until March 7, 2017, and frankly I don’t know how you are going to wait that long. I received a DRC for this title from Net Galley and Crown Publishing for the purpose of a review.

Lane grows up in New York City, raised by a mother that shows no sign of warmth or affection, a woman that seems to either cry or sleepwalk through most hours of most days. When she hangs herself, Lane bitterly wonders what took her so long. But then a surprise comes with the social worker assigned to her case. It seems there are grandparents in Kansas, who not only are willing to have Lane, but that actually want her.

Soon Lane finds herself being driven up the private drive to Roanoke, the family manse, a rambling, welcoming hodgepodge of a house, complete with a same-age cousin waving with manic joy from the front porch. Allegra is spoiled, and now Lane will have all the same luxuries. The ostensible farm on which they live is more of a gentleman’s farm, as it happens; the real money comes from oil. And so Lane, who has scraped for every scrap of clothing and food alongside her struggling mother for 16 years, suddenly has the whole world at her beck and call. Allegra takes her to their grandfather’s study and shows her where all the credit cards are kept, and she assures her this is not something they are sneaking or stealing; it is assumed that if they want something, they can buy it.

It seems almost too good to be true…and it is.

There is so much simmering just below the surface, unspoken but thick and almost tangible. Take, for example, the portraits of the Roanoke girls that have gone before them, whose photographs line a main hallway. The collection begins with Grandfather’s sisters, continues with their daughters, the mothers and aunts of Lane and Allegra. What has become of all of them? Allegra explains:

“Roanoke girls never last long around here…In the end, we either run or we die.”

Lane’s picture isn’t included among those in the hallway, and she isn’t sure she wants it there. And as time goes by and the contours of the family’s pathology become clearer, Lane decides it’s time to save herself, and she hits the road, covering her tracks to the best of her ability. She stays away until ten years later, when her phone rings. Her grandfather tells her that Allegra has vanished; they need Lane to “come home” to help the family search for her.

Lane’s interaction with her grandfather is mesmerizing. When he calls her with the news of Allegra’s disappearance, the first thing she asks is how he got her number. Yet once she is back in the Roanoke house, she recognizes that

“…behind the secrets and the horrible truth, under the shame and anger that beat like a heart, there still lives a terrible kind of love.”

The fascinating, intimate narrative Engel weaves is a thing that can’t be taught. There’s no degree, no series of workshops that gives a voice such clear authority. She plays out the story’s thread in careful increments, and the bone-c hilling tone is heightened rather than lessened by the fact that we have a very good idea of exactly what happened to Allegra. I know whodunit halfway through the book, but it doesn’t matter. The author binds me to Lane’s story in a way that is completely undeniable, and I have to see this thing through with her. Toward the end of the book, instead of commenting to myself about aspects of the book or particularly compelling passages to quote, I’m engaging with the text itself. More than once my notebook simply says, “No.”

The reader should know that there are triggers all over the place. Those that are in a sensitive place may want to have someone else read the book first and tell you whether they recommend it to you. But for those that want a chiller of a mystery, and for those that care about women and the ways that society turns people into products for consumption, this is a must read. Or you could just read it because it’s brilliant, and no one else is writing anything like it.