{Source: GoodReads.com}

DI Helen Grace is most definitely one of my favourite detectives of the moment. She reminds me sharply of Jane Tennyson – a huge compliment indeed – and her prickly nature, dark inner rivers and (usually) unwavering self control are wonderfully sketched by Alridge. Grace is so patently a labour of love for this author, and I appreciate every detail.

In Liar Liar, Grace is chasing an elusive killer. Stymied by the seemingly ghost-like actions of the arsonist, she makes a series of understandable mistakes in the investigation and puts more people in jeopardy. The entire tale is riveting and unputdownable. The mystery is strong, and I didn’t predict the ending in the slightest – I had zero clue of the perpetrators – good job to the author on that!

Helen is so intriguing, as is Gardam and I look forward to seeing all of the relationships develop.

My one quibble is that I believe a certain character should have been arrested and charged for attempting to murder a police officer – this is one of those plot black holes that I imagine authors and editors catching later and smacking their own foreheads in dismay.

As for the ending lines… saw those coming… and hope that it isn’t sinister, if that makes sense. I actually think it could be a fascinating foray into S&M if the author chooses to go that route. We’ll see. I am eagerly awaiting the next in the series, Little Boy Blue. I’ve definitely found a new obsession in Helen Grace.

{Source: GoodReads.com}

Quite frankly, I feel like I know these characters like the back of my hand. They are old friends. Carol, Tony, Stacey, Sam, Paula, Kevin… even John Brandon. They are as familiar as lovers might be, or enemies. It’s fantastic to return to them and get reacquainted, find out what they’re up to and discover once again how wonderfully human Val McDermid’s characters can be.

The Retribution was the weakest of the Tony Hill/Carol Jordan series, and while I remember enjoying Cross and Burn, I honestly don’t remember the plot, so that’s saying something. Splinter the Silence is solid, but I do think the “will they/won’t they” dynamic of Tony/Carol needs some release, or it’s just going to become stale. I don’t even sense the slightest chemistry between them any longer. There isn’t a spark or even a flicker of flame. They’re just old friends. Maybe that’s all they ever will be? Maybe that would be okay?

In Splinter the Silence, we deal with an anti-feminist psycho killing women for daring to have opinions —

It’s really effectively maddening (Val McDermid knows exactly what she’s doing, especially with the current climate) and you just want to bitch slap the villain until he cries.

Meanwhile, Carol is sneaking vodka and tonics like it’s her job, until a chance traffic stop sends her straight to court for drunk driving. She calls Tony natch, and through a series of unlikely events, ends up getting offered a plum job directing a new force of roving investigators. It’s a new start for the series – I can see lots of major cases in their future – and it’s promising for readers who love these characters.

A “dry” Carol is perhaps a bit less interesting than messy, drunk Carol but I can forgive this character development given what Carol needs to achieve in this new position. However, I stand by that the Tony and Carol dynamic is getting stale, and I think a good dose of friendship is exactly what they need right now. There isn’t a whiff of sexual tension between those two. Let it grow organically or not at all!

The police work in this one is done mostly by Stacey – who desperately needs to catch a break an a raise – and interestingly, Tony does NOT come up with an embarrassingly juvenile name for the perp. I wonder who suggested McDermid drop that habit?

Lovely, unputdownable, solid, recommended. As always. This series is a gem.

{Source: GoodReads.com}

Thank you to NetGalley, Smith Publicity and Kait Jagger for the ARC in exchange for an honest review. I appreciate it!

Oh, was I ever excited about this one.

It did not disappoint.

The so-called New Adult genre is rife with cliche. Girls who can’t take one step without falling over. Billionaire boyfriends who date only stuck-up horrid bitches until they meet the heroine. Following that, bitchy heroines without one redeeming quality – yet EVERYONE LOVES THEM.

Then, along comes Kait Jagger, and the genre gets a breath of fresh air that just won’t quit. To be quite honest, Stellaluna Gregory is my book girlfriend, and I’d like to fight Stefan for her, because that is one damn fine lady, with smarts, integrity and a joyful sexual appetite that reminds me of Claire Fraser from the Outlander series. Luna is unabashed by her own desire. Of course, certain things they do may confuse her, or make her question her own feelings, but she doesn’t feel ashamed by her needs or wants. She embraces them and explores them.

I said once that Luna has *bottle* and I stand by that. How wonderful to meet a heroine who is brave. Who can sometimes be shy. Who manages her own problems with intelligence and a fiery spirit. Who loves her friends so wildly and perfectly. Who owns up to her errors and acts with compassion and grace. Who isn’t defined by who she is sleeping with.

Seriously, that’s rare.

This is the follow-up to Lord and Master and it’s a seriously satisfying affair. Luna has fled to the Shetland islands, betrayed by the Marchioness and by Stefan. Her own isolation and her teeming emotions are mirrored by the desolate and wild landscape, the smell of salt in the air, the animals roaming, the lunar treeless land threatening to keep her mired in her own sadness forever. A chance meeting with Stefan upends Luna’s lonely existence, as he shows her just how predatory – and delicious – he can be. This one night of passion is absolutely delectable, and I admit I enjoyed this angry and wronged Stefan. I pretty much enjoy Stefan any way I can get him though, let’s be real.

As Stefan and Luna attempt to try again, outside forces test their love to its breaking point… can they survive? And what of their need to punish each other… and themselves? Is this spinning out of control? Do they even care?

Kait Jagger is really a talented author, and her sense of place is back once again, putting the reader perfectly wherever they happen to be – from Luna’s freezing cottage on the Shetland islands, to the splendor of Arborage, or Stefan’s glittering apartment in the city.

She is also immensely good at sex scenes. Not only does the sex feel *real* – not once does Stefan utter the words “Come for me” and she does at the drop of a hat (pet peeve) – but it also feels like these are two people who keep growing and learning from their experiences with each other.

In short, they know how to turn each other on, and they keep discovering each other’s likes and dislikes, their bodies and their desires. It’s intoxicating. It’s wonderful how Luna doesn’t orgasm just from penetration (please other authors, can we stop this fictionalization of the female sexual experience?), that Stefan works to make her come, that she does the same for him… seriously, I’ve never read a book before where the guy actually realizes – oh hey, you actually didn’t have an orgasm just now. Let me rectify that. Until this one. Oh Kait Jagger, how I love your writing so.

The more adventurous moments between them are also welcomed. I won’t elaborate. Just to say I liked it and more please!

All in all, lovely, sexy, intelligent and gorgeously written sequel. I could read about Luna and Stefan forever.

{Source: GoodReads.com}

Thank you to NetGalley and Head of Zeus for the ARC in exchange for an honest review. I appreciate it!

Riveting, beautifully written, razor-sharp and gory. Also impossibly long.

On chapter 85 it was like

But I stuck it out, and I’m glad I did. Much as I think this book would have benefited from careful editing, I still believe Fabian Risk is one of the better detectives to come out of the recent Scandinavian influx. Not quite on par with Carl Mork of Department Q, but I like him better than anything Nesbo has produced, for sure.

For one thing, Risk is refreshingly flawed. He’s a terrible father and husband. He isn’t a team player in the slightest. He strikes me as a bit of a player. He’s full of himself. He often does the wrong thing, just because he wants to solve the case. And yet, he’s a brilliant detective. It comes down to that, in the end.

Victim Without a Face is the first in the Fabian Risk series, and it’s a seriously promising debut. Ahnhem sets the scene well, with Risk and his family returning to his childhood city to ‘start over’. Screams for mercy haunt Risk’s sleeping and waking hours, but we never really learn what made him unable to go back to his old job. This is a good thing, really, as it means Ahnhem must want to explore these past atrocities in future novels. I love a good dark undercurrent to any hero, and Risk seems to have rivers of them.

While the mystery is well sketched and intriguing, the villain didn’t really interest me (perhaps appropriately?) What I did enjoy was the dynamics between the members of the police force, the meticulous detective work, Fabian’s character, his kids, the diary entries (horrific, sad, maddening) and the fact that two characters got the best comeuppance they deserved so mightily. Am I wrong to think they deserved to die?

Because they did.

The moral implications of this aren’t lost on me, and I believe Ahnhem wanted the audience to feel uncomfortable with their feelings about those two characters – and about many of them, really, including Risk. He isn’t above censure or judgment. None of them are, really. They all make ridiculous decisions and terrible choices – they’re human, all too human. It’s wonderful.

I highly recommend this, despite the length. I’ll be very interested to read the rest of the series, as I feel Ahnhem can only get better.

Thank you you to NetGalley and Hachette Books for the ARC in exchange for an honest review. I appreciate it!

This is definitely an unputdownable thriller. It begins with a heart-rending scene that evoked terrible memories of the recent Germanwings crash in the Alps. A passenger plane soars through the clouds, with over one hundred and sixty souls on board. What first seems like turbulence dissolves into horror, as the plane smashes into a mountainside.

The only survivor is a baby girl, seemingly thrown from the plane and kept warm by the burning aircraft that holds the ashes of her parents. It’s creepy and so sad – imagining this tiny girl, alone on a snowy mountaintop, staring into the mouth of hell.

It turns out that there were two baby girls on the plane. One, the child of a penniless family who sell chips and hot dogs to beachgoers. The other, the child of billionaires. But which one died, and which one lived? In the days before DNA testing, supposition reigns.

After the Crash is a mystery, but it’s also a stirring and moving account of two families, struggling to accept the loss of their children, AND fighting for the baby they both believe is their granddaughter. As someone without kids (I have a furry baby though), I find it difficult to relate to stories about kids, but I still feel the natural empathy and sadness and can see why both families would be obsessed with the one survivor of the conflagration. She represents hope to them, and to so many.

The mystery is intriguing, told in the diary of a private investigator hired by the rich family to ferret out the truth. As for the rest of the characters – meh. Grand-Duc spends way too much time rabbiting on about Nicole’s breasts. Ample as they are, I couldn’t have cared less. The ‘hero’ is supposed to be Marc, but he grossed me out. He was attracted to his sister for God’s sake. Whether they were blood relatives or not, he grew up with her. Dude, not cool. Malvina was interesting, but a bit too whacky for my tastes. As for Lylie, she was about as interesting as day old white bread.

HOWEVER, the story itself was intriguing, compelling and immensely readable. You won’t be able to put it down, guaranteed.

{Source: GoodReads.com}

Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the ARC in exchange for an honest review. I appreciate it!

The Passenger is a four star book in terms of sheer ‘unputdownability’ but 3 stars in terms of the story line and how it’s executed. Lutz has talent, there’s no doubting that, but in the end, I was left cold by this book and especially by certain aspects.

The Passenger is ostensibly about a woman running scared after the death of her husband. Although she says it was an accident, she still doesn’t fancy speaking with the police and takes drastic measures: leaves town, dyes her hair, changes her name and even switches up her drink order – all to ensure she stays out of the spotlight.

Through her travels, she meets a bartender named Blue, and that’s when the story gets a touch of the whackadoodle about it. Where I had trouble – and still do – is the lack of any kind of psychological weight to the ‘heroine’s’ actions. It’s difficult to discuss without spoilers, but as an example (this does not happen in the book), the text reads like, “Then Tanya shot him in the back. He died. She and Blue drove home.”

Okay, so that’s WHAT happened. But how did you feel about it? Are you haunted by it? Changed by it? How do you go from shooting someone in the head to walking calmly to your Jeep unless you are truly evil? And she’s not supposed to be, from what I gather – especially given the ending. All she truly seems to care about is drinking bourbon, having hot showers and eating burgers. Which, if your life is regular, fine. If you’re on the run from the police and kind of crazy, perhaps there are other priorities?

Tanya/Amelia/Debra is truly a ‘passenger’ in this sense. She never seems touched by anything.  Oh, I suppose she genuinely does seem to like Domencio, who is about as irritating a romantic hero as I can imagine anyone being. Why is he interested in her? Why does she like him? There is not a single reason for it, and yet… here we are.

Don’t get me wrong… this is definitely an entertaining, easy read. I raced through it. But it lacks the depth I was hoping for. It lacks any reason for me to really connect with Tanya/Amelia/Debra or hope for her absolution and forgiveness. I wanted to root for her in some sense, even if she did do terrible things. But I felt … cold. She didn’t evoke anything other than blankness.

There are also weird subplots (Reginald… the whole Paige thing) and some lovely touches (Andrew), but in the end, this just didn’t thrill me in the true sense.

I still predict it’ll be a huge best seller.

{Source: GoodReads.com}

Thank you to NetGalley and The Penguin Group for an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!

Official Synopsis
An astonishing portrait of a murderer and his complex relationship with a crusading journalist

Michael Ross was a serial killer who raped and murdered eight young women between 1981 and 1984, and several years ago the state of Connecticut put him to death. His crimes were horrific, and he paid the ultimate price for them.

When journalist Martha Elliott first heard of Ross, she learned what the world knew of him— that he had been a master at hiding in plain sight. Elliott, a staunch critic of the death penalty, was drawn to the case when the Connecticut Supreme Court overturned Ross’s six death sentences. Rather than fight for his life, Ross requested that he be executed because he didn’t want the families of his victims to suffer through a new trial. Elliott was intrigued and sought an interview. The two began a weekly conversation—that developed into an odd form of friendship—that lasted over a decade, until Ross’s last moments on earth.

Over the course of his twenty years in prison, Ross had come to embrace faith for the first time in his life. He had also undergone extensive medical treatment. The Michael Ross whom Elliott knew seemed to be a different man from the monster who was capable of such heinous crimes. This Michael Ross made it his mission to share his story with Elliott in the hopes that it would save lives. He was her partner in unlocking the mystery of his own evil.

In The Man in the Monster, Martha Elliott gives us a groundbreaking look into the life and motivation of a serial killer. Drawing on a decade of conversations and letters between Ross and the author, readers are given an in-depth view of a killer’s innermost thoughts and secrets, revealing the human face of a monster—without ignoring the horrors of his crimes. Elliott takes us deep into a world of court hearings, tomblike prisons, lawyers hell-bent to kill or to save—and families ravaged by love and hate. This is the personal story of a journalist who came to know herself in ways she could never have imagined when she opened the notebook for that first interview.

Review
It’s telling that midway through the first bit of this book – which I found to be about as imbalanced a portrayal of this subject as possible – I actually grabbed my phone to take a photo of my Kindle.

My husband gave me a strange look, naturally and asked what I was doing.

“Making sure I don’t forget this part. It made me so angry I’m afraid I’ll black it out due to rage.”

For posterity, this is my photo:

Let me just repeat that here: Michael Ross was a brutal rapist and killer, but I also met another side of him – a caring, thoughtful person…

See, where you really should have stopped is after ‘killer’ because there is not a ‘but’ big enough in the world to follow that sentence. My other favourite bit is this: Father John was the first one to convince Michael that God would forgive him even if no one else could.

How lovely for Michael isn’t it?

He went around kidnapping young girls (don’t be fooled by the constant repetition of ‘young women’ – a few of his victims were in their early teens), shoving his penis in their mouths, raping them however he cared to (vaginally, anally – in one particularly repugnant passage, he tells Martha that he couldn’t ‘get it into’ one girl because she was so small, so he settled for raping her anally), and then strangling them and hiding their bodies, often tossing them places like the garbage you know he thought they were. Just sexual receptacles and playthings, discarded when he felt like it and not a minute sooner.

And yet, this Priest takes it upon himself to offer this person ‘forgiveness’. Great. How is that in any way his business or concern? Was HE raped and murdered by Michael Ross? What? The answer is no? Well, then, simple: he doesn’t have the right. Ever.

Only his victims had the right, and he took that away from them, just like he stole their breath, blood, tears, sweat, dreams, desires and silly, sweet, selfish hopes. He stole any children they may have had out of their wombs. Any hearts they may have broken. Any romances or marriages. Any careers out from their fingertips. Their names will never be on office doors. Their families will never know, never know, never know.

All because this guy thought he could do this, and get away with it, and the whole time I was reading this book, all I could think was, Martha Elliott, you got played.

Of course she did, really. He did this for a living.

But honestly, so did she.

She’s supposed to be a celebrated journalist and she can’t even examine why she goes to bat for this guy? Why she has been manipulated into telling his side of the tale? Why she’ll drop everything to be by his side? She doesn’t wonder if he’s telling her exactly what she wants to hear, in order to get what he wants?

Just like he did with his victims?

{Source: GoodReads.com}

Thank you to NetGalley, Piper Lawson and Book Baby for the ARC in exchange for an honest review. It’s much appreciated!

Official Synopsis
Twenty-one-year-old Alexis Caine is so close to her dream she can taste it. And it tastes like validation and Häagen-Dazs.

In a few months the quick-talking redhead will graduate with a shiny new business degree and launch a fashion label with her best friend Ava. All the planning, dedication, and saying ‘no’ to everything – and everyone – distracting will pay off.

Then Dylan Cameron, Ava’s tall, dark and broody younger brother, returns from the East Coast to start sophomore year at Lex’s San Diego college. Lex has hardly seen him in years and given his reputation for partying and girls, that’s just fine with her.

But Dylan’s all grown up. And a night of unplanned confessions for both of them threatens to tear Lex’s carefully constructed world off its axis…

Because one sassy control freak + one prodigal son = chemistry that refuses to be ignored.

Review
Check it. Dylan Cameron is my book boyfriend, so you can all just back off right now.

Lex Caine? Not so much.

Let me explain.

I really enjoyed Schooled. It’s a short read, and it was exactly what I needed at the time – a bit light, sexy sex and the kind of hero that serves up a little Adam Brody as Seth Cohen realness. You know what I mean. Slightly dorky and smart, but so painfully hot and he doesn’t even know it.

See that smile? DO YOU?

ANYWAY. In Schooled, we are inside the mind of Alexis Caine, budding entrepreneur, future finance graduate, and master game player. You see, Lex is just a little bit of a headcase when it comes to guys. So when she sees her best friend’s younger bro again after a few years, she decides to fuck with his mind as much as possible, driving him ever so slightly to the edge of murder before drawing him back, time and time again.

Okay, so that’s not quite how it happens and maybe she doesn’t say that’s her goal, but one could be forgiven for thinking so. For Lex is a shameless bunny, all up in Dylan’s business when she feels like it (offering to “teach” him things) and then refusing to tell anyone they’re dating even though he’s such a puppy and kicking him is akin to knocking over strollers with babies in them in your spare time, LEX.

However, I do give props for the fantastic sex scenes – they are fraught with urgency, the right amount of dirty talk and really get across how much the characters want each other. When he wonders out loud if he can “chase every thought from that busy mind of (hers)?” Whoa, nelly.

It’s perfect, really. Congrats, Piper Lawson. She has a knack for writing these scenes, not making them feel routine, and infusing them with real rawness and weight. I love sex scenes that actually feel like something is happening rather than just mechanics.

I just wished, in the end, for less of Lex’s thoughts and more of Dylan and Lex, together. He’s a splendid hero and I could have read about him for days. And I did like Lexi – she was smart at school thank goodness – but I think it all got a bit too much for me after the fifteenth time* she’d ditched the poor boy.

Like I said though, super enjoyable, the sex scenes were perfect and I did read it twice, so I guess I must’ve warmed to Lex more than I thought. 😉

*Clear exaggeration.

Official Synopsis
Luna Gregory has everything she needs. A dream job as personal assistant to the Marchioness of Lionsbridge, and a home on the 500-year-old Arborage Estate. But her encounter with Swedish entrepreneur Stefan Lundgren, charismatic, devastatingly attractive-and third in line to inherit the estate-leaves her irresistibly captivated. What Stefan doesn’t know is that he and Luna have met before, that he is drawn by more than just her English reserve and quiet beauty. Luna has her reasons for concealing the truth from him-she’s built an entire life for herself based on keeping the past in the past.

Stefan initiates Luna into a world of sexual exploration where they push the boundaries of pleasure and control, the ties that bind them,literally, in desire. Not content with possessing Luna physically, Stefan wants all of her. But he is keeping his own secrets, secrets that could drive them apart.

Review (again…)
I’ve already reviewed this book, but I couldn’t resist another go around. This is mainly a ramble, you’ve been warned.

You see, I had the flu this week. The Noro Virus to be exact. Don’t get it. Seriously, just don’t. It’s so horrendous that all I wanted was ginger ale, water, a bed, sleep and eventually – when I felt less like I was dying – a book that I loved.

Enter Lord and Master, easily my favourite romance book that I’ve read this year. I honestly am shocked every time I visit its GoodReads.com page and there aren’t a million five star reviews. The fact that this gem is so underread when books like Fifty Shades flourish is a crime against literature and romance, in particular. Why, you ask? Let me tell you.

1. Luna.
2. Luna
3. Luna

Seriously though. I love her so much.

Get this, Luna Gregory is competent, intelligent, reserved, loving, stubborn and she can bike across gravel roads in Ferragamo heels because she’s a boss. She doesn’t simper. She’s capable of taking two steps without tripping over her own two feet (like, sooo adorable, right Bella Swan?). She rides a motorcycle. She has raw, electrifying, push-pull sex without feeling like she has to apologize. Her friends are bomb dot com.

In short, she’s my literary girlfriend.

Particularly, I adore that even though she clearly can’t see straight because Stefan’s charming the dress right off of her (and who wouldn’t take their dress off for Stefan, let’s be serious), she has other things on her mind. She’s damn amazing at her job, she cares about her friends, she has relationships with anterior characters that never feel forced or untrue, she is committed to her boss and she has deep reserves and deep rivers in her mind that many never see. She’s not just a shell that needs a male character to bring her into glowing light. She already is.

I picture Luna as looking like Jacquelyn Jablonski. Impossibly beautiful, with a quiet elegance and sexiness that scorches. Blue eyes, naturally (the colder on the surface the better… she should be able to stare down a King and win).

4) Stefan.

He’s that quintessential hero, and yet he isn’t…. which makes him all the more enticing. Yes, he’s rich, but he’s worked for his money, and worked hard too – he doesn’t always have time to fuck Luna up against a wall or whisper sweet nothings. Sometimes, he’s traveling. Often he’s up at dawn, working. He isn’t an asshole for the sake of it, like so many NA “heroes”. He may be tough to deal with sometimes, but he’s also funny, and romantic and kind. Of course there’s an edge to him (delicious) but he genuinely cares about Luna – about what she’s feeling and thinking, even if he can’t quite articulate it to himself.

Not to mention, he’s intelligent, driven and absolute ready to take Luna on the ride of her life. Her pleasure is HIS pleasure, and oh my, does he love to get her off. Sorry to compare again to Christian Grey and Fifty Shades, but let’s do that, shall we?

As far as I can recall from my read of the latter, the first time they have sex, Ana is a virgin and he deflowers her and she comes – hello insta orgasm – solely from penetration in what is her first time ever having sex ever, and there is nary a hint of him, y’know, interested in getting her off. The whole thing is a crock, of course, and it’s always the barometer I measure other sex scenes against, because I can’t for the life of me figure out why that story is so damn popular. People I respect actually loved it.

And yet here, we have Stefan, who just wants to give Luna pleasure … it’s part of what interests him in sex, which of course, it should be for all men. Thank goodness for Kait Jagger reminding the romance genre that women require a little more than just a guy saying “Come for me” and a penis-in-vagina moment (I am describing WAY too many sex scenes I’ve read recently, by the way, this isn’t an invention. This is real talk.)

Not to mention, he’s clearly a dish, and from the way he’s described by Luna?

5) Stefan and Luna. Together, they just ignite. They not only have scorching chemistry that burns right off the pages, but they also have a deeply sexy, adult connection that feels raw, and intimate, and smart.

6) The sense of place is strong with Kait Jagger. Her attention to detail is breathtaking. It’s evident in everything from the way she describes Arborage and its chilly, exquisite, rainy exteriors, to the smells of beeswax and roses inside, the marble floors. Then she’ll flip you and have you in Miami in a heartbeat, with the searing salt smell and the suntan lotion, the creaming blue waves and the pinks and yellows and greens of the Keys, with the scent of fish and batter heavy in the air. It’s absolutely astounding to read, really, and I enjoyed feeling like I was there almost as much as I enjoyed spending time with the characters.

7) Luna’s commitment to her work. Remember in Devil Wears Prada when Andie’s friends all act like complete assholes because she’s good at her job and can’t hang around with them 24/7? REMEMBER?

How refreshing is it that in this book, Luna is fantastic at her job and no one – not a single person that she cares about, of course – makes her feel guilty about it, or shames her about it? How lovely that she gets to go to work and love what she does, and be good at it?

How perfect that she actually has to work and can’t just spend all of her time mooning over Stefan and drawing their names in heart bubbles on her daily diary?

Because I think it’s pretty perfect.

8) Actually, I think this book is pretty perfect.

9) Go get it go get it go get it

10) Seriously. Now.