The first half of this book was such a blast, and one of the best thriller / mystery / police procedurals I’ve read in a long time. I was powering through at a pretty quick pace, until about the half way mark when the story takes a severe left turn. I like to go into books pretty blind, so I wasn’t aware that there would be a connection to the Bill Hodges trilogy. King loves connecting his stories together, but unfortunately I found this took away from an otherwise stellar narrative.
The premise: a young boy is violently killed but the prime suspect, coach Terry Maitland, has an indisputable alibi. Multiple eye witnesses claim to have seen Terry near the scene of the crime and with the victim, but there is no way he can be responsible – a man can’t be in two places at once. Due to the horrific nature of the crime police are looking to make an arrest ASAP to ensure the public feels safe, and when the DNA comes back as a match they arrest Terry publicly, leaving tragedy behind for his family. As the story progressive it becomes more and more apparent that Terry can’t be responsible, but DNA doesn’t lie…
If you haven’t read the Bill Hodges trilogy and would like to, do not read The Outsider first. It’s a stand-alone book, but will spoil the series for those who haven’t read it. When the mystery seems impossible to solve, King brings back Holly Gibney from his trilogy (which I loved) – the anxious, quiet, yet shockingly astute partner who played a pivotal role in those books. This is also the point in the book that dives into the supernatural, which can go either way for me. I generally don’t like supernatural stories, but King often does it extremely well. It was good here, just not as good as the first half of the story.
I love Stephen King, and this was so close to being a home run! My review sounds a bit negative but I really enjoyed the book, even though it felt a bit disjointed. Fans of King will appreciate his dedication to continuing to surprise, even with so many stories under his belt.
What a journey! This was a a fantastic crime read that packed an emotional punch in its last few lines. If you enjoy police procedurals and are looking for a unique story, this is a must-read. For readers that want to try the genre and are uncomfortable with the vast amounts of graphic violence in most crime novels (not me), this will satisfy as well.
Jack, Joy, and Merry are waiting by the side of the road in their broken down car: their mother had gone to call for help and would be back soon. An hour passes, and the kids decide go searching for her, unaware that they would never see her again – she was found stabbed to death days later. Three years pass, and the kids are living alone in their family’s house having slipped through all the cracks in the system.
Jack, the eldest at 14, turns to burglary to take care of his sisters. When he thinks he discovers a key to his mother’s death, he takes an unconventional approach to get the police to re-open the investigation. Meanwhile, a pregnant lady named Catherine, experiences a home invasion while her husband is away for work. These two narratives play out simultaneously, seemingly unrelated. Their stories, however, will soon collide.
There were a few elements that didn’t work for me; a secondary character named Smooth Louis, for example. He’s a mentor to Jack / petty criminal who is obsessed with removing all hair from his body. He’s always shaving it away, but we have no idea why. It’s never explained and his character doesn’t go anywhere. I’m all for weird for the sake of weird, but it just didn’t make sense in this book. Secondly, Bauer likes to call everyone fat. I can’t tell you how many times in this book her characters are described as fat and disgusting – it was a bit much. I’m sure there are more creative ways to describe someone’s size.
I sort of wanted to give this book 4 stars, but it was so damn addictive that I have to give it 5. This was an incredibly interesting choice for the Man Booker longlist – it’a an excellent crime read and I’m curious as to why the judges decided to include this genre into the prize for 2018. Looking forward to reading more of the longlist next!
Look, this book isn’t going to win any awards for its quality of writing, but Find You in the Dark shines in plot. After reading countless thrillers that feel all too similar, it was refreshing to read one that had an entirely unique premise. This was a really fun read!
Martin Reese retired young after his tech company exploded, leaving him with both ample financial resources and plenty of time on his hands. He is a devoted husband and father, who happens to have a bit of a twisted obsession: he seeks out the bodies of murder victims from unsolved cases, uncovering them for the police to find. To carry out his compulsion he tells his wife, Ellen, that he’s going camping and uses his alone time to uncover bodies. Martin’s focus is on the victims of a long captured serial killer, Jason Shurn, and he gets his intel from a cop who sells him case files on the sly.
Before long, a past family tragedy takes centre stage, reaching a breaking point when his daughter disappears. Shurn may not have acted alone, and Martin has enraged someone by uncovering victims from the past. Martin will have to succumb to an internal darkness to save his family and get his daughter back.
I’ve heard this book compared to Dexter, but I have a hard time seeing that. Unlike Dexter Martin isn’t a killer. He’s simply a man who has taken an interest in true crime to the next level, albeit a twisted one. The book is a little long and though it drags a little, I was compelled to keep reading. Side note – Nathan Ripley is a pseudonym for Naben Ruthnum, an Indian writer from Canada. He’s said he used the new monicker because of the expectations that come with having an ethnic sounding name. I must say, I wish he used his real name! Shatter the expectations! OK, back to business – 3 stars, because it was hard to put down.
This book was everything I wanted out of You – a biting satire that is equal parts creepy and funny. Kepnes hits the nail on the head with this one, though I will say that I went into her work expecting to be truly terrified. I guess I just had the wrong perception, as her work is much more comedic than it is scary.
In Hidden Bodies Joe is back but this time he’s in Los Angeles. Joe holds a grudge, and after being played the fool in his last relationship he heads to LA to settle the score the only way he knows how. When in LA, Joe hobnobs with actors and others trying to make it in Hollywood, blending in surprisingly well. He’s good looking and great with people, and soon finds himself in a new and meaningful relationship with a woman named Love. But Joe can’t help looking backwards, obsessing over a critical error he made in one of his last crimes, wondering when it will all catch up with him. Combine that with Love’s destructive twin brother, a cop who won’t back down, an ultimate desire for success, and the stage is set for a perfect storm.
There are some genuinely laugh-out-loud moments in this book as Kepnes digs into the absurdity that is celebrity life in LA. There is an element missing that would take this story to the next level; I don’t like Joe – he’s arrogant, pretentious, and overly confident. That said, this is an endlessly entertaining read that I moved through quickly. I think if I liked his character I’d be more into these books. I’ll definitely continue to check out Kepnes’ work – she has a new book out now.
I had a lot of trouble deciding where to place this review. Part of me wanted to leave it at 2 stars, but there are good elements to this book that led me to 3.
Joe is a bookseller with demons. When Beck walks into his shop one day, he knows that she is the one. He stalks her, and eventually finds a ways to weasel himself into her life. The two bond and develop a relationship, but she is never fully committed. Joe disturbingly explains away the reasons for her indiscretions and behaviour, but decides there are people in Beck’s life that are taking her focus away from their relationship. With those people gone, she will only have him to turn to; so he sets out to remove those people.
I’m not sure if it’s the political climate we’re in, but I really wasn’t in the mood to read another book about a man inflicting violence (or worse) on a woman. Yes, Joe is equal opportunity in regards to gender, but something about this book just didn’t sit well with me.
Kepnes wants you to know what she likes, and the relentless name dropping in this book gets tired very quickly. Within a couple of chapters, I started to wonder how long it would keep up; the answer is for the entire book. Kepnes name drops books, authors, movies, music, music videos, bands, actors, and directors throughout the novel, and it quickly goes from being sort of fun to utterly gag-worthy. Sorry, but this sort of overtly pretentious vanity is hard to stomach.
I get it – Kepnes is going for a bit of satire with this – a serial killer who likes to keep up with the arts and the New York scene. That said, I have trouble believing that someone as twisted as Joe would be serving up Larabars to his victims. I will be starting on the follow up to this, Hidden Bodies, next, primarily because I’ve heard that she gets the satire right with that one. Kepnes wrote a compelling story with You, but it’s shortcomings were hard to ignore.
I’ve loved The Talented Mr. Ripley since the movie was released in 1999, and have been meaning to read the book ever since. I finally picked it up, and what a reading experience it was! I absolutely adored this book from the first page to the last, and can’t wait to watch the movie again to compare the two.
Tom Ripley is a fraudster – he tricks people into sending him cheques rather than the bank, and is genuinely proud of himself whenever he pulls off a deception. There is a sense of longing for more: bigger stunts and riskier plans are on the horizon. When an opportunity arises for Tom to go to Italy to convince playboy Dickie Greenleaf to come home to America, all expenses paid by Dickie’s concerned father, he jumps at the opportunity.
Once in Mongibello, the small Italian town where Dickie has been living, he intentionally bumps into Dickie and his girlfriend Marge, convincing them that he is an old friend. Dickie and Marge invite Tom into their home, and Tom soon realizes that he quite likes the life Dickie is leading – maybe he’d like to live this way too. A chance to make an easy dollar soon turns into a frightening obsession, and eventually to murder. What follows is a complex and expertly plotted tale of escape in plain sight. Tom Ripley is a sick genius, able to manipulate any narrative to suit his own.
Highsmith masterfully delves into the mind of a psychopath; early in the book she details a moment in which Tom rubs his hands together while laughing quietly to himself after pulling off fraud, and it’s so deliciously creepy that I knew I was in for a good ride. Throughout the story, it’s easy to both sympathize with and be disgusted by Tom; Tom’s is able to convince himself so thoroughly of his version of events that it’s easy to forget what really happened. My only critique is that it ends so abruptly – I guess I’ll have to pick up Ripley Underground soon!
Obsession takes stage in Tangerine. This is a dark story of a friendship gone terribly wrong, resulting in both tragedy and despair.
College roommates Alice and Lucy had a tumultuous friendship, but developed a close bond regardless. When tragedy occurs the women go in different directions, leaving behind their plans for the future. A year later, the women unexpectedly reunite in Tangier, Morocco. As the story unfolds, we learn that Lucy has dark motivations, ultimately leading Alice down a disturbing, black hole. The book is also littered with references to how exotic Tangier is, how bright and colourful the clothing is, etc. The story is about a sheltered woman in the 1950’s, but I found the romanticizing of Morocco to be a little tiresome.
Reading this book alongside of The Talented Mr. Ripley gave me whiplash – Mangan was clearly influenced by the amazing Patricia Highsmith. The parallels between the two books are uncanny, though the stories do eventually go down different paths. Highsmith actually mentions Tangier as a place where one of her characters may have ran off to, so it’s incredibly difficult to appreciate this in its own right when it’s so heavily borrowed. Mangan has something good going here though, and I look forward to checking out her future work with hopes that she will find her own voice along the way.