Review: The Last Mrs. Parrish by Liv Constantine

★

Harper | 2017

Filed Under: My rage knows no bounds!

I wish the publishers hadn’t stuffed this novel into the psychological-thriller genre just because that’s where all the cool kids are, but had instead been honest about what this book is: a dark romance meets women’s fiction meets soap opera intrigue with a terrible, TERRIBLE message.

This level of dramatic soap-opera nutty-ness is just not my thing. It lacks humour and humanity, and is overpopulated with silly dialogue and tropes that feel like a reenactment. Not to mention, the internal misogyny that permeates the entire theme gets my feminist hackles up.

(This could get mildly spoiler-y because I’m going to rant, so if you’re super excited to read this, here’s my takeaway: Don’t waste your time with this, unless you’re cool with domestic abuse and the idea that it can be deserved. Otherwise, read on!)

So, this is pretty boring. It’s slow with dull scenes and so overtly dramatic in its boring elements that it becomes comical and cheesy. Ohhhhhh more rich people events with wildly cliché conversation? More descriptions of fancy clothes and designer labels and expensive underwear and boats and bikinis and hot bodies? Please, please, tell me again what else these people are spending their excessive amounts of money on!

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Review: The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn

“Something’s happening to me, through me, something dangerous and new. It’s taken root, a poison tree; it’s grown, fanning out, vines winding round my gut, my lungs, my heart.”

★★★★★

William Morrow | 2018

Filed Under: WHERE IS YOUR WIFE?!

I went into this reading experience with full-blown anxiety triggered by a library return date breathing down my neck.

I assumed there was not enough time for me to get through this because my weekend included my in-laws staying over and a front-hall closet renovation. I decided to try anyway because I ain’t no quitter. I opened this Saturday night, so completely aware that I had a Monday morning deadline that I got a little high first to set my nerves.

And guess what, nerds? I blew through this baby so hard I gave myself TMJ.

Look, the truth is that this is not a groundbreaking novel or even particularly original in its overall concept. I see a lot of middle-of-the-road reviews from my friends who just didn’t get into it, who thought it was overhyped and underwhelming, and I understand. I think those reviews had a “Lowered Expectations” effect on me because I FUCKING LOVED THIS BOOK.

Shout out to all the special people who got the MadTV reference. You are my people.

Maybe it was the library anxiety meets weed meets meh reviews, but holy shit if this isn’t the most fun I’ve had reading a book since…like…a week ago…

Okay, you know what? The timeline isn’t important.

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Review: Eighth Grave After Dark (Charley Davidson, #8) by Darynda Jones

★★

St. Martin’s Press | 2015

Filed Under: Pregnant Mirror Sex

It physically hurts to say this, like I have bad gas, but I must tell the truth: I did not like this book.

I really do love this series and the characters have a special place in my heart, but WHAT IN THE HOLY-HELL IS GOING ON?

This can be my problem with long-running series: at some point, the author wants to take things to a new, unexpected level, but because the story has been going on for so long the only place left to take readers is right off the fucking rails.

And this is the book in Charley Davidson’s adventures that dropped off the tracks and decided to go careening off a bridge.

First of all, this book read more like a romance erotica novel than a true Charley Davidson instalment and I was just not fucking into it.

In case anyone forgot over the previous seven novels, Reyes is hot. Reyes is sexy. Reyes is the hottest, sexiest Son of Satan that ever did exist. Also, he’s Charley’s husband. They are married. They got married. Charley married the Son of Satan and he’s hot and sexy and beautiful, and they are so so SO in love and have amazing, mind-altering, orgasmic sex. Reyes is more beautiful than any human male could hope to be…

Honestly, this book might as well have been titled An Ode to Reyes Farrow’s Muscles and Beauty.

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Review: Into The Black Nowhere (UNSUB, #2) by Meg Gardiner

★★★★★

Dutton | 2018

Filed Under: Physical satisfaction

OKAY, FIRST OF-FUCKING-ALL: FUCK YES

And second: I’m so depressed this is over.

I’m not religious, but over this Easter weekend, I’ve decided I worship at the printing press of Meg Gardiner. And her books are my bible.

If you’re interested in my new religion, let me know. Maybe I’ll make some pamphlets.

I’m completely blown away by this instalment in the UNSUB series. I think I literally peed my pants over the first one. And it seemed a completely impossible task that an author would deliver an equally pee-pants worthy follow-up.

But, I’m peeing my pants right now. (Not really. I’m at work. No one would appreciate that.)

Still, this is a completely solid five-star rating, and my only little tiny, itty-bitty teeny issue is a completely personal one that comes from the fact that I know everything about Ted Bundy. He’s my favourite serial killer. Not in a weird way. You know what I mean.

Look, I’m not apologizing. It is what it is.

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Review: Black-Eyed Susans by Julia Heaberlin

★★★½

Ballantine Books | 2015

Filed Under: Canadian Bacon is not Ham ffs!

This is just an OK book about O.J. Simpson.

Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not about O.J. Simpson? He’s just talked about incessantly?

My bad.

So, this is a pretty good suspense mystery that is not about O.J. Simpson.

But who are we kidding? There really is no O.J. mystery.

*Points to my name tag that reads: Ask me about how O.J.’s oldest son probably did it and he covered it up for him*

Black-Eyed Susans follows Tessa, the only surviving victim of a serial killer. Known as “the lucky one,” her body was left in a ditch covered in the ominous yellow flowers and surrounded by the remains of three other women. Now 32, with a daughter and a life she’s scraped together with determination and strength, Tessa has to face the consequences of the testimony she gave at her accused killer’s trial — she’s not totally convinced the right man is behind bars anymore.

But just like everyone else in the history of mystery novels with a lazy plot device, the bitch has amnesia and can’t remember what happened to her. Ugh, fucking amnesia.

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Review: Seventh Grave and No Body (Charley Davidson, #7) by Darynda Jones

★★★½

St. Martin’s Press | 2014

Filed Under: Blow jobs as portals to otherworldly secrets

So, in this instalment we follow our hero (sans coffee — the horror!) as she balances running from the 12 hell hounds sent to kill her, trying to solve a Friday The 13th style mystery, testing her growing abilities, learning more about whether she’s going to save or destroy the world as per the big ole prophecy, dealing with being pregnant, and of course, delving deeper into her dysfunctional relationship with Reyes.

At this point, fans pretty much know what they’re going to get when they pick up a Charley book. There’s not a lot to say about this series that hasn’t already been said, or can’t be said exclusively with gifs and some swear words.

Also, I don’t like pregnant Charley.

Babies ruin everything. There. I said it.

If the overall prophecy arc has been a favourite part of this series for you, then you’re in luck! We learn so much more about what the fuck is really going on, including all that Charley is capable of and what her destiny is shaping up to be.

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Review: Two Girls Down by Louisa Luna

★★★★½

Doubleday | 2018

Filed Under: Fingers burning from turning the pages

So I’m just going to say it: Favourite read of 2018 so far!

OMG, heart-eyes for Louisa Luna!

This was just so much fun; a pretty perfect example of what a crime thriller-whodunit should be.

I would love this to be a series featuring the enigmatic bounty hunter/P.I. Alice Vega. Fingers crossed! Not a lot was revealed about her, just enough for you to know her without knowing her. There is still a lot of space to grow with Vega, more story that can be told.

The minute she popped onto the page, I knew I was in fictional love. Vega is damaged and snarky and ruthless, smart and cynical, with a short bullshit fuse. She has no problem beating the shit out of her “skips” or using her talent of mental warfare to get her way. She’s a tough-as-nails queen.

When I grow up, I want to be just like her.

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Review: Sixth Grave on the Edge (Charley Davidson, #6) by Darynda Jones

★★★★½

St. Martin’s Press | 2014

Filed Under: Team Mr. Wong!

I feel like this book is a watershed moment for the series. If you’ve been loving the ride so far, this instalment is going to test just how invested you really are in sticking it out with Charley.

If you’ve been iffy about Charley — whether you like her and her constant slapstick bullshit — then this book is going to be what tips you over the edge to one side or the other.

It is not your typical Charley Davidson novel. If you’re expecting to find a PI case that Charley takes from beginning to end… sorry, but no. There is a lot going on, a lot of defining moments, a lot of new plot threads that are introduced for the future of the series, and one hell of a cliffhanger.

(Seriously, the seventh book was available for download from my library and I borrowed that shit immediately after finishing this.)

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Review: N0S4A2 by Joe Hill

★★★½

William Morrow | 2013

Filed Under: I’ve never read Stephen King before.

OMG, I HAVE FINALLY READ THIS FUCKING BOOK. What’s it been, 30 years?!

I’m tired, guys. I’m so so tired.

I feel like I just escaped from Christmasland and my life force is nearly drained.

My head hurts. I think this book gave me a headache — that’s how intense it was.

The gist is Victoria ‘Vic’ McQueen can travel across a covered bridge on her bike and arrive on the other side wherever she wants to be.

Charlie Manx can drive his vintage 1938 Rolls-Royce Wraith to a supernatural amusement park, which he created, called Christmasland. And the Rolls-Royce is the key to getting in. On his way there, he kidnaps children. During the ride, the kids are drained of their life force in order to keep Manx alive, because you see, he’s a few hundred years old. Can’t let that decay start sloughing off body parts, can we?

“She told me about Charlie Manx. She warned me about him. She said there was a man, a bad man with a bad car. He used his car to suck the life out of children. He was a kind of vampire — a road vampire.”

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Review: The Girls in the Water (Detectives King and Lane, #1) by Victoria Jenkins

★★★★

Bookouture | 2017

Filed Under: This is why I don’t jog.

There’s just something about smart, in-charge females solving violent crimes against other females perpetrated by men with psycho fucking issues, that really rocks my bits.

I was super excited to read this new series by Victoria Jenkins for that very reason, and I have to say, it didn’t disappoint.

This is a really promising start for a new author and new series.

In Wales, a jogger finds the body of a woman floating in the river, as joggers are wont to do. DI Alex King and DC Chloe Lane are called to the scene. It seems almost as soon as the first body is found, a second body turns up. Serial killers are working 9-5 and overtime, baby!

Let’s talk characters: The thing about these two ladies is that they are in fact two ladies. Unique and given equal time to develop — though they have much more room to grow in their definitions for follow-up stories. Their histories, their emotions, their life circumstances — it is not surface or cliché or redundant. They feel like two purposefully drawn characters who practice support of each other. Women need to have each other’s backs instead of infighting, and I loved that this book clearly demonstrates that sisterhood, even in difficult circumstances, even in the same job, even when they don’t understand each other’s motives or reactions.

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