True Crime Tuesday: The Bear Brook Murders

A surprise affect of my true crime interest is that some days my appreciation and deep love for my husband is amplified as if the volume has been turned up to eleven.

That’s not to say that there are other days where I am numb to it. Quite the opposite. I’m always fully aware of the cosmic luck that brought my husband to me. Contrasted against the background of my shitty ex and the shady AF choices I’ve made in my life, (that I’m truly surprised didn’t totally fuck me,) he doesn’t really need to do much to be wonderful. But he does anyway.

Every one thought we were crazy when we met. Getting involved, being long distance, trying to navigate an immigration system, starting over from scratch once he moved to Canada and blending our family. But it was truly one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I followed my heart completely on that one, because from a rational point of view, yeah we were taking big, unknown risks and it could have gone totally sideways.

But here were are. Seven years later.

And some days, when the volume is up to eleven, it feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest and be carried away by a million butterflies because I know, truly and honestly, from the bottom of my bottom, that my husband would never kill me and stuff my body in a 55-gallon drum.

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Review: Cari Mora by Thomas Harris

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★★

Grand Central Publishing | 2019

Opening Hook: German sausage.

Main Character: Lisbeth Salander on Ambien.

Plot Twisty-ness: Twisted into boring knots.


I can’t believe I waited 13 years for the author who inspired my love of writing and reading and serial killers, to reenter my life only put me to fucking sleep.

I’m so sorry Mr. Harris, but girl what is you doing?

After such an extended hiatus, one would think the brilliant creator of Hannibal Lecter – arguably the greatest villain of all time – had come out from hibernation because he had a story that just needed to be written and shared.

After reading the blurb, I thought that was clearly the case here because the summary is straight fire so I needed this book immediately! ASAP. Pronto. Gimme!

Beneath an unoccupied Miami Beach mansion that used to belong to Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar, there is rumoured to be millions of dollars worth of gold. Two men are in a race to get to the gold first. Don Ernesto, a Colombian mob boss, and Hans-Peter Schneider, a depraved “business” man who kills women and sells their body parts to wealthy buyers to satisfy whatever their particular sexual fetish is.

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Review: The Bedwetter – Journal of a Budding Psychopath by Lee Allen Howard

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★½

Three First Names | 2019

Opening Hook: Electric piss fantasy.

Main Character: What in the actual fuck?

Plot Twisty-ness: Twisted, not twisty.


This book is homophobic, misogynistic and gross-out horror for the sake of shocking the reader and has zero literary value. Straight up. It’s garbage for the people who like garbage. So if you do, then please, jump onto the pee-soaked bed! It’s waiting for you!

Me, I’m using the rubber cover. I’m not prudish or easily offended or sensitive by any means, and I usually have no issue with a book that includes offensive themes with purpose… but this book has no purpose.

I am struggling to find the point to any of the fucked up things I just read. It feels like it exists only to have put demented thoughts onto paper. It exists just to be awful. There is no reason or moral or satisfaction to the ending. And I guess that’s just not my thing at all when it comes to stories. No judgement if it’s yours, but I can’t do it.

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Review: Bad Feminist by Roxanne Gay

“I believe feminism is grounded in supporting the choices of women even if we wouldn’t make certain choices for ourselves.”

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★★★

Harper Perennial | 2014

Defining Feminist: “…a word that has, as of late, become a catchall term for ‘woman who does not tolerate bullshit.'”

Main Takeaway: “I’d rather be a bad feminist than no feminist at all.”

Plot Feminist-ness: Too much Scrabble, not enough feminist rants.


Omg, she read something that wasn’t about murder! Yes, yes, try not to pass out. I do consider myself a woman who strives to be well informed and well rounded, so when I’m not reading about the dark and twisty I do like to be enlightened or challenged.

That said, this book of essays was a mixed bag for me.

I was expecting a novel of feminist essays to expand my thinking on the topic and enlighten me about things I might not consider as a white female millennial who doesn’t know everything there is to know. I would say 50% of the book did that for me.

Roxane Gay spoke to my particular kind of feminism, which is that I might not be passing any purity tests conducted by the Twitter counsel, but I do my best and am always willing to learn, correct or just find peace in my choices even if they aren’t considered “good feminism.”

Gay presents herself as a bad feminist – someone who doesn’t fit the rigid definition we’ve set around ourselves, boxed ourselves into. She argues that feminism will always be flawed because people are inherently flawed and people run this movement. But that’s no reason to throw the whole thing away, to paint the whole thing with one brush or to participate in cancel culture over people’s individual missteps.

“When feminism falls short of our expectations, we decide the problem is with feminism rather than with the flawed people who act in the name of the movement.”

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Author Interview: Megan Goldin

Welcome back, nerds! This is my last post on the Blog Tour train for The Escape Room by Megan Goldin. All aboard, bitches!! Choo-fucking-choo!

If you haven’t already, click here to read my review. And click here to read an excerpt from the book provided by the publisher. The blog tour for this debut thriller is running until August 13th, so make sure you check out other blogger’s posts and reviews and opinions. But always remember, mine is the most important.

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I really liked this book. Maybe you don’t believe me. Maybe you’re assuming that I’m just kissing ass because I was invited on this blog tour. There are only two things I can say to that. One, are you new around here? And two: check out my blog tour for The Ancient Nine, because that book was a snoozer and I was super honest about it, making it awkward for everyone involved.

Thankfully, St. Martin’s Press didn’t hold it against me, so obviously they’re cool and you should definitely buy all of their books if you want to support dope publishing houses.

(That was definitely ass kissing.)

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Blog Tour: The Escape Room by Megan Goldin

Get in losers, we’re going Blog Touring!!

Welcome to my stop on the blog tour train for The Escape Room by Megan Goldin! I’ve got reviews! I’ve got an author Q&A. I’ve got an excerpt from the book that’s going to make you work out the hold button at the library!

This is a totally dope debut thriller that I gave four-stars – which is essentially a less bitchy reviewer’s 5-stars – so clearly you’re going to want to add this clever tale of revenge to your completely unrealistic TBR pile. And good news! It’s officially on sale today! Amazon! Indigo! Ebooks! Physical copies! There’s no stopping this blog tour train now! Choo-fucking-choo, bitches!

*clears throat*

Anyway, this book has everything you look for in a thriller. The characters are vibrant, the setting is well researched without being so explainy that you feel like you’re reading a text book on wall street finance, and the plot is so satisfying in its revenge it’ll make you want to lock some people up in an elevator and do some insider trading.

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Review: The Escape Room by Megan Goldin

‘Welcome to the escape room. Your goal is simple. Get out alive.’ 

★★★★

St. Martin’s Press | 2019

Opening Hook: Team building at its most murder-y

Main Character: A James Bond glow-up

Plot Twisty-ness: Turning the heat up to 11.


Let me introduce you to my favourite revenge thriller of 2019. I mean, so far because it’s only July, but whatever. It’s not like my TBR is a cornucopia of revenge tales. Pretty sure it’s mostly serial killers.

The Escape Room is balls-the-walls wild, while still being grounded and realistic. I think that’s why I liked it so much – it was the perfect combination of over-the-top moments that exist just to be fun, mixed with a true-to-life high finance setting and realistic themes of suicide, loss, financial struggle and degrees of sexism.

The author took things that are honest and real, and that most readers will be able to find some thread of connection to, and kicked it up a notch with fantastical plot elements.

This debut novel is a tale of revenge that’s going to 100% fire you up to enact vengeance on your enemies. I’m looking at you, dude in my office who complained about the memes at my desk!

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Review: Lost Girls – An Unsolved American Mystery by Robert Kolker

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★★★

HarperCollins | 2013

Opening Mystery: Seriously, WTF happened to Shannan Gilbert?

Main Creep: Peter Hackett has some attention issues

Plot Truthy-ness: A humanizing portrait


I’m pretty fascinated by the Long Island Serial killer case. It’s been some time since we had an evil, undetectable serial killer case to watch in real-time. Though it’s faded from news and been replaced by, well, mostly Trump for fuck’s sake… this is certainly a story to keep a light on. There are dozens of women whose lives have been cut short with zero progress towards justice of any kind.

The more cynical side of me might say that because they were escorts and sex workers that their cases are deemed “less important” to solve compared to other things cops are coming across every day involving people with more “societal value.” That’s the more cynical side.

I’ve seen a couple documentaries on this decades-old unsolved mystery, watched a few interviews and have a general idea of who is suspicious AF (I’m looking at you Dr. Hackett, you shady motherfucker,) so, I wanted to read this novel by an award-winning investigative reporter because I thought I would be getting a really in-depth overview of the case as it stood in 2013, and some theories about what the actual fuck is going on.

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Review: I Know Who You Are by Alice Feeney

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★★½

Flatiron Books | 2019

Opening Hook: Phone, keys, wallet

Main Character: JUST ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTIONS!

Plot Twisty-ness: 👉👌


What in the actual fuck?

Why did you do this to me, Feeney?!

Sometimes I Lie was one of my more favourite reads last year, so I was pretty pumped up to read the second offering from this author, but unfortunately, I’m W-T-F-ing all over the place with this one.

I mean, seriously. Why? Why that ending?

I should have fucking known I was going to be disappointed by this.

Clue number one: some of the most reliable thriller reviewers around these parts (Dennis from Scared Straight Reads, I’m looking at you,) gave this book one fucking star.

Clue number two: My buddy Lori (@mylifewithbooksandbeans on Insta if you’re looking for a gem bookstagrammer to follow,) asked for my address and paid the costs to send me her ARC copy from the US, just because she wanted me to write a review.

People don’t want me to write reviews about books they think I’ll love, okay? I might not know where Brazil is on a map, but I know that much.

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True Crime Tuesday: The Nine Million Dollar Murder

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It’s been a while!

Sorry for the break! But not really. I hope you stumbled across many other funny and wonderful book bloggers and true crime writers to fill the Krystin-shaped hole in your heart. I know there are so many writers to read, and it means a lot to me that you still stick around my blog even when I disappear every now and again.

I’ve been super fucking busy at home trying to finish my bedroom renovation. I know, I know. I’ve been promising forever to post my basement reno and I’ve already moved on to my bedroom. What can I say? I don’t possess a lot of virtues, and patience definitely isn’t one of the few.

I finished painting on Sunday and I’m so happy to say there are no more rooms in my house that require a full wall of paint… three years later. I fucked up my shoulder once again and my back is twisted, but all the heavy, big projects are officially done and now I can just focus on the smaller details like hanging a mirror or putting up curtains.

I can’t tell you how excited I am to just sit on my fucking ass and do nothing once again. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. And it looks a lot like me in bed with a book and a snuggly puppy. And of course, writing more posts around here. I fucking swear it!

Truly, my Fitbit has never seen me achieve so many steps before. It thinks someone new is wearing it.

Anyway, I’m feeling a little bit less stressed, my brain fog is clearing and my creative juices are totally pumping… forgive me for saying “creative juices.” That phrase could not be any more disgusting. But I digress… a new true crime story is just breaking within the last couple of days, and it is completely fucked up and sensational and has me rolling my eyes in all kinds of directions because goddamn teenagers are just so fucking stupid, cruel sometimes.

We’re talking terrible teenagers. We’re talking murder. We’re talking child pornography. We’re talking fake millionaires. We’re talking being gullible as fuck.

This is the murder of Cynthia Hoffman.

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