The Third Annual Book Blogger Awards: I Was Fucking Nominated!

Well, this is pretty fucking cool! I’m one year into book blogging, and would you just look at me with ten or so people knowing who I am and shit.

A couple of weeks ago I was getting tagged in posts where I was “nominated” by dope book bloggers for the first stage of these awards and I was all, Thank you, but…

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Honestly, I wasn’t aware this was happening. And I didn’t know it ran in two stages. I was just really touched that anyone was nominating me for fucking anything. But today, I found out that my little murder blog made the cut to the next stage of the awards where you, the reader, actually get to vote, and I was all:

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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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Review: The Girls Are Gone by Michael Brodkorb & Allison Mann

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★★★★

Wise Ink Creative Publishing | 2018

Opening Argument: Your Honour, this case comes down to one fact – this fucking bitch is cray.

The Clients: One bad mommy, one fucked over father.

Plot Truthy-ness: Told factually with care, but emotionally leaning to one side.

I was offered this book by the authors and their book publicist in exchange for a review. At first, I was like, Woo! True crime! But then I read the description and was like, No one dies? This is going to be boring.

But, shit was I wrong! Who knew family court drama could be so fucking crazy? I mean, I suppose I should have because I’ve been through a little bit of this myself (my husband has custody of his kids for a reason,) but nothing I’ve witnessed my husband deal with really comes close to the levels of nuttiness presented in this true tale.

I’d like to do a quick rundown of the basic facts of this story, but I don’t know that I can do it all justice in a just a few sentences. There’s a lot of twisty, crazy events and people, that round out the events that took place in 2011, continuing to 2018.

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Review: Guess Who by Chris McGeorge

“Today, we are going to be playing a little game of Murder.”

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★★★½

Hanover Square Press | 2018

Opening Hook: Basically a classic Kesha song.

Main Character: If Maury and Robert Stack had a baby, but that baby was drunk all the time.

Plot Twisty-ness: Jigsaw would be proud.

I went into this novel with every intention of loving it completely. I swear to the god of thunder. But okay, obviously I didn’t completely get there. Story of my life. No one is shocked.

Guess Who started off as a five-star read until I passed the halfway mark and that’s when things fell off the chart. For the first half of the book, it is very much SAW meets Clue, just minus the horror element. It creates a sinister, frantic pace and tone that definitely had me hooked. It’s a locked-room mystery that feels both extravagant and desperate at first, and that definitely worked for me in a totally non-sexual sexual way.

Morgan Sheppard is a TV star who has made a living doing a Maury meets Unsolved Mysteries-style show called Resident Detective. As a child, he solved the murder of his math teacher and created a very successful career riding (read: exploiting) that wave. Through his fame, he’s turned into an alcoholic, drug addict and womanizer. The only problem is, Sheppard has been full of shit for a very long time. And someone knows it. And someone hates him.

This villain, known as The Evil Man who wears a goofy fucking horse mask, locks Sheppard, and five other people, in a hotel room with a dead body in the bathtub. Sheppard has 3 hours to find the killer – one of the people in the room – and prove what kind of detective he really is, or the hotel will be blown up.

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True Crime Tuesday: The Halloween Killer (& My Hometown Murder Update)

It’s almost here! Can you feel it? Halloween night creeping ever closer?

Do you have your costumes ready? Your pumpkins carved? Have you eaten all of the candy you were supposed to be saving for young, innocent children dressed as tigers and bumblebees that make your ovaries go, “You’re 32!! You better decide if this is cute enough to make you want this sooner rather than later!!“

Huh? Yeah, me neither.

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To help us prepare for the big night – because the countdown is officially on! – I’m back with another Halloween inspired TCT to really help scare the shit out of you on October 31st.

You’re going to be sitting around, waiting for the knock on the door, watching a scary movie, and suddenly there it will be – a memory of that time I told you about people being fucking murdered in their homes after handing out candy. And you’ll think, THAT BITCH.

Or you’ll be out at a party, dressed up in your sexy slice of pizza costume or your sexy Big Bird costume or your sexy hot dog costume or your sexy Pikachu costume or your sexy Eleven from Strange Things costume (she’s just a child, what is wrong with you?) and suddenly there it will be – a memory of that time I told you about people being fucking murdered walking home drunk in their sexy Halloween costumes. And you’ll think, THAT CUNT.

BUT FIRST…

If you remember, I posted about my hometown murder from a few months ago, something that had my entire neighbourhood in a tizzy. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, check it out here.

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Review: The 17th Suspect by James Patterson & Maxine Paetro

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★★★

Little, Brown & Company | 2018

Opening Hook: A pretty standard for the genre death scene.

Main Characters: TONE IT THE FUCK DOWN.

Plot Twisty-ness: B for Beffort.

So, this is the first review I’m posting on my blog of this series, but here’s the ~~sordid~~ background on me and this series:

I have read every single one of the books in this series. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. Even the novellas.

You can find all of my reviews of them on Goodreads if you’re so inclined to watch my descent into pure, unadulterated hatred.

Oh, yes, that’s right. Hatred. I am well-versed in the Women’s Murder Club. And I fucking hate-read this series with a fiery, binge-y passion. Truthfully, I hate mostly everything Patterson writes.

Gather around, children and listen to your elder millennial: James Patterson is a fucking awful writer.

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Booknerd Wednesday: Mystery and Thriller Releases for Fall 2018!

We are officially-unofficially into the beginning of my favourite season!

Hoodies and pumpkins and leaves changing colour and no more sweat stains under my boobs or mosquito bites riddling my flesh. It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

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You know what else there is to love about autumn? New book releases!!!

Here is my list of the top crime fiction/mystery/thriller/blahblahblah releases coming our way this season. Get your TBR shelves ready for the added weight!

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Review: A Wolf Like Me (Thomas Spell, #1) by Andy Fitz

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★★★

CreateSpace Independent Publishing | 2017

Opening Hook: You know how you perform dark rituals sometimes?

Main Character: If a less zany Ace Ventura was a werewolf.

Plot Supernatural-ness: A new world, but we’re keeping Merlin.

Okay, first things first: I do not typically read werewolf fiction because I’m not a big fan of the werewolf mythos unless I’m playing Skyrim and become one to join the Companions, then it can come in handy.

Given the choices that we typically get – vampires or werewolves, pick one! – I am much more into vampires.

Not the sparkly kind who fall in love, and insist on staying in high school forever and just want to do good even if their hearts are cold…awwwww. No. Give me Gary Oldman’s Dracula, Buffy the Vampire Slayer or some 30 Days of Night absolute horror. That to me is so much more interesting and creepy. Vampires are the first horror monster to scare me as a child, making me pull the blanket up to my neck at night as if that would protect me.

People who turn into big, scary dogs is just kind of weird. But I get the appeal to horror fans.

That being said, this book is pretty decent even for a werewolf hater like myself.

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True Crime Tuesday: My Hometown Murder

Good morning friends, lovers and strangers! It feels sooo goood to be back with a new edition of #TCT.

The end of August was SO busy for me I barely posted anything around here, but I got a lot done at home, so I’m not complaining. We’re just here for a good time, right?

Before we get into it, how was everyone’s long weekend?! Really, I want to know. I had a family BBQ, played some Battleborn with my husband and yesterday I deep cleaned my car.

You don’t understand what a big deal that was. I bought my car in 2015 and this was the first time I’ve ever cleaned the inside of it.

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It was time. There were puppy puke stains everywhere. A little heads up that puppies can have motion sickness for the first year of their life would have been nice.

Besides that, I’ve been doing so much stuff at home all month that last week I actually slipped a disk in my lower back and I was laid up in bed for three days. Welcome to your 30s – where a Sunday afternoon of yard work means you are a cripple for half the week.

We also had some crazy excitement about two weeks ago in my neighbourhood. And that’s what this post is going to be about. That’s right! When I say MY HOMETOWN MURDER, I fucking mean it!

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Review: The Hellfire Club by Jake Tapper

“The human soul isn’t sold once but rather slowly and methodically and piece by piece.”

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★★★

Little, Brown and Company | 2018

Opening Hook: A politician, a dead woman and a car ~~walk into a bar~~ drive off of a bridge.

Main Character: A bowl of oatmeal wearing khakis.

Plot Twisty-ness: If you turned Washington D.C. into a corn maze.

A word of advice, don’t read books that are outside of your interests because you have an intellectual crush on the author.

What are my interests, you might ask? Why did this book fall outside of them? Well, I’ll tell you…

This novel is about Charlie Marder, a newly appointed US Congressman.

He’s married to a zoologist (for some fucking reason) with a baby on the way, marching into Washington ready to make some positive changes guided by his strong moral compass and naivete. He has taken over his seat for a disgraced politician who was found dead after charges of corruption and racketeering.

Then there’s the mysterious elements – a shooting in the Capitol, lots of talk about communism. McCarthy makes an appearance, as does JFK and numerous other real-life players in 1950s D.C. A dead girl, a car crash and more communism, and J. Edgar Hoover and Senate hearings and lobbyists.

A shadowy network of secret societies, a nefarious group known as the Hellfire Club who will stop at nothing to get what they want, soon have Charlie in their clutches. After some codes to decipher and some deep national secrets to Nicholas Cage out of the Library of Congress, Charlie realizes he’s not just trying to save himself, but that the fate of the whole country rests in his hands! Gasp! Shock!

And then the N-word gets uttered a time or two. You know how those racial tensions were back when ladies knew their place! Am I right?!

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