Tanya

Ursula Todd is born in the midst of a blizzard in 1910, not once, but many times, during the course of her life - living only to die and be born again, repeatedly, traveling many paths until she lives the life she was meant to live.

Kate Atkinson's writing is superb, and lyrical enough that it carried me through to the end of this book. The plot, however, left me floundering for weeks, trying desperately to claw my way to the end of this depressing tale. While the premise - reincarnation and destiny - is interesting, the execution left me frustrated.

The early chapters of the book are very short, as Ursula is born, dies, and is reborn again with rapid succession. With each successive life, she lives longer (in most cases) and is developed more and more as a character. The choppy format of the early chapters make it difficult to get attached to Ursula, but as she lives longer, it becomes more and more apparent that she lives a sad, depressing life. In addition, as a result of her continued rebirth, it's difficult to become attached to her, or to feel any real regret or sadness at her passing. Also strange is that, as often as you meet them throughout Ursula's life, her siblings never really become fully realized characters. As they move in and out of her life, these siblings play important roles in the paths she follows, yet they remain rather one-dimensional, as though Atkinson couldn't be bothered to spend the time on them.

The book was also a bit too meandering in its plot. Lives that led no where interesting or important wandered on for far too long, while lives that seemed to be leading somewhere ended abruptly, only to pick up again to follow another pointless path. Perhaps this was Atkinson's exploration of the capricious nature of fate, but it made for some rough reading. About 100 pages of this novel could have been trimmed and it would only have improved the quality. Forty of those hundred pages should have been the last forty of the book - the last few “lives” lived by Ursula were confusing and unnecessary to the novel.

All in all, the writing was exactly what you'd expect from Atkinson (wonderful), but the story itself was confusing, lifeless, and somewhat empty. A hundred fewer pages, a different ending, and more fully fleshed-out secondary characters would have resulted in a 4 star book for me.

(I received a review copy from the publisher in exchange for a review.)

I'm always excited at the prospect of a character-driven police procedural (especially if it's British) and Missing, Presumed did not disappoint. The plot centers around a young woman who has gone missing after a night of carousing at her local university pub. Not an out-of-the-ordinary case, except that the missing woman is Edith Hind, only daughter of Sir Ian Hind, physician to the royal family. There were signs of a struggle at her home – broken glasses, blood, and tipped over furniture – but no ransom demands and no contact from Edith herself. The story itself plays fairly close to the traditional missing person mystery with lots of suspects, false leads, and juicy family secrets, but what really made it stand out were the wonderful characters.

The book is told from multiple perspectives, allowing the reader to get to know each character intimately. You hear all of their thoughts about the case, their boss, their significant others (including some particularly painful blind dates), and each other. Manon, the main character, is portrayed as both a tough and capable detective. At the same time, however, we get to see peeks at her private life, like her disastrous attempts at online dating. Davy, her partner, is an eternally optimistic man who worries about the plight of at-risk youth in the system and hides the miserable relationship he's in with his long-time girlfriend. Even more minor characters are fully fleshed out and you get a good sense of what the squad room is like.

Despite being a rather traditional mystery, this book touched on some social issues like at-risk youth and how they're shuttled through the system, the self-absorption and “cause hopping” of the idle rich, and the reasons some people turn to crime as a way of life. One thing I found particularly interesting was the reflection on how high profile cases are handled differently and whether that has an effect on the outcome of the case.

I enjoyed this book tremendously and I'm hopeful that this is the first book in a coming series.

(Thanks to NetGalley and Random House for a free copy of the book in exchange for a fair and honest review.)

Any book that gets blurbed by Stephen King gets immediate attention from me and this book deserved it. Reminiscent of The Mist the concept behind this book is a rather simple one: A giant snowstorm sweeps into the small town of Coventry, people claim to see strange figures in the snow, and people walk into the storm never to be seen again. Fast forward twelve years and another giant storm is headed their way. As they make their preparations the residents of Coventry are haunted by the events of the previous storm and fear the return of whatever evil may accompany it. Sounds good, right?

The book initially takes off at a great pace, introducing characters in the form of short vignettes, describing the storm and the chaos it causes, and is just generally scary. Golden successfully captured the suffocating feel of a snow storm which added to the overall discomfort you experience as a reader. Because the story concept was a familiar one, the focus could be on the characters and their emotional responses to the terrifying circumstances in which they find themselves. The jump forward in time did cause some initial confusion since many of the characters from the opening pages were now in new relationships and...for other reasons that I cannot disclose without spoilers.

All in all this was a very good horror novel. There weren't any flashy gimmicks or twists, just a solid concept and successful execution. It was a fast read for a book over 300 pages, which was good since it wasn't the kind of book you'd want to set aside mid-read. If you like horror that has the feel of early Stephen King and Dean Koontz (Phantoms comes to mind here), give this one a try.

This book is, at it's root, an in-depth look at the character of two abused children who grow up to be adults. Marion is child-like and anxious, having internalized that she was clumsy, stupid, and ugly. John is a tyrannical monster, raging at Marion over small slights in the childhood home they still share after the deaths of their parents. They live there, surrounded by garbage and rotting food, wearing thread-bare clothing, and something odd in the basement. Burns does an amazing job telling the story from Marion's point of view and I found her endlessly sympathetic. With denial as her primary coping mechanism, Marion refuses to acknowledge “the visitors” John brings to the basement. When she is forced to confront the truth we get to see another side of Marion. Often the ending of a suspense novel can either make or break the book. Not only did this book carry itself just on the characterization of Marion and John but the ending blew me away entirely. Marion is a character I still think about months later...and she still gives me the chills.

(Thank you to Legends Press and NetGalley for an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.)

“I did the whole making muffins for bake sales and going on trips and being there for homework and inviting friends around. All of that. But I didn't know how to do what was important.”

Grace Covy, mother of two and part-time writer for her local newspaper, races to rescue her daughter when a fire engulfs the posh private school they attend on Sports Day. Upon arriving at the hospital, Grace and Jenny, both badly injured in the fire, are outside their bodies, able to communicate with only each other. The situation becomes even more dire when the police close the case but Grace realizes they've collared the wrong suspect...and the real arsonist still wants Jenny dead.

A unique kind of mystery, this book took off full-bore from the start and never relented in terms of pace and emotional punch. Lupton's writing is superb, and as a former screenwriter she knows how to write a cliffhanger, leaving you unable to leave off after “just one more chapter.” The characters are wonderfully drawn and fully fleshed out, not cookie-cutter as it would have been so easy to do. While part of the ending was a bit predictable, the whodunit portion of the mystery kept me guessing right up to the end.

Jonah Kirk, now in his late-50's, is telling the gripping story of a very important time in his young life. Koontz is in his element here, weaving a story that is lyrical to read, though it takes some time to wade through. The plot moves slowly, almost luxuriously so, because Koontz is so descriptive, taking his time to make sure you can visualize every bit of Jonah's city. The city almost becomes a character itself due to Koontz vivid descriptions of its people, it's art, and it's architecture. Koontz explores the idea of a city having a soul, as personified by “Pearl”, the mysterious woman who teaches Jonah to interpret his dreams.

This novel was as much a character study as it was the coming-of-age of Jonah. The character development of the “good guy” characters - Kirk's family and friends - was rich and expansive. Disappointingly, however, the “bad guy” characters felt one-dimensional and a bit stereotypical. The characters sometimes felt as though they were being used to explore themes and not carry the story themselves. Jonah's relationship (or lack of one) with his father, his dedication to his mother, his friendship with the quietly formidable Mr. Yoshioka, and his love of Amelia Pomerantz all felt as though they were just as important to the story as the plot itself. When Koontz allowed the characters to shine on the page, the story was wonderful to read. Unfortunately, sometimes too much space passed between these glimpses of brilliance.

My problem with this novel was perhaps in my expectations. I am a long-time fan of Koontz's novels because they're usually such page turners. An interesting main character, an intriguing premise, a whole lot of suspense, and a thrilling conclusion. While The City definitely had an interesting main character, it was missing everything else. It was by far a more philosophical novel than I'm used to from Koontz, and as a result it sometimes felt like work to read. In the end, The City was a good book I just couldn't get into.

(I received a copy of this book from Bantam Books in exchange for an honest review.)

I'm not sure how to describe this novel, except to say it deserved to be read in one sitting.Emerald Torrington is set to celebrate her 20th birthday with her family and a few close friends at a dinner at her family home, Sterne, in April 1912. The night is thrown into disarray when, as her guests arrive, so does news of a train derailment, sending dozens of passengers to Sterne for the evening to await rescue by the railway. The assembled group tries it's best to carry on with the party, but the arrival of an unexpected guest sends the night into an unexpected direction.At first, the novel reminded me very much of the Flavia de Luce novels by [a:Alan Bradley 1074866 Alan Bradley http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1256021843p2/1074866.jpg]. The tone was playful, and the families were similar in some ways - emotionally distant but loving parents, a family living in genteel poverty, a precocious child, etc. However, that quickly changed as the plot began to turn toward more adult themes.This is a great read that I would definitely recommend.

Sydney Yoshida is a mom of two who spends her days organizing her family – planning carpool, dinner, and work as vice president of the PTA around her husband's work schedule and her daughter's soccer, cheer, and basketball schedules, all while trying to squeeze in a bit of time for herself. Her gated community is usually quiet so when sirens break the silence one morning she finds herself out on the street with the rest of her neighbors, horrified when news of the death of fellow cheer mom and PTA president Trisha becomes apparent. In between helping the widower plan the funeral and helping take care of Trisha's children, Sydney also struggles with the police investigation that has targeted her neighbor and best friend Beth. Sydney is forced to take a closer look at people she considered friends to get to the bottom of Trisha's death while trying not to get herself killed in the meantime.

I had a blast with this book. I'm a sucker for a fun cozy mystery and this was right up my alley. I'm addicted to my planner (I'd be lost without it) and hoard office supplies like it's the end of the world, so the little mentions of pens, washi tape, and stickers made me laugh. Also, being a mom myself I could relate with the frustrations of the main character – trying to balance a home life with volunteer commitments, connecting to other moms through their children's school and extracurricular activities, and even maintaining a healthy relationship with her husband while being pulled in a dozen different directions.

This book had the typical bumps that come with first-in-a-series books and especially from a first-time novelist. Some of the character and place descriptions felt forced rather than being introduced more organically, and the book could have benefited from a more “show, not tell” approach. There were also references to name brands that were a humorous nod toward the “planner girl” community that might be lost on readers who aren't familiar with it. After about half-way through the book, however, the bumps had passed and the story itself was engrossing and the ending was entirely believable. Like any good mystery it was full of red herrings and had me guessing the murderer's identity and then changing my guess as I realized I was wrong.

This was a fun book that I would recommend to any cozy mystery lover, especially if you love crafting or depend on a series of lists to keep your life together. I'm looking forward to the next book in the series.

(Thank you to Ms. Tom for a copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review.)

I picked up this book based on only what the blurb told me because it ticked a few boxes - unreliable narrator, obsessive relationship, and psychological suspense. Because this is the kind of book that is best read when you know very little, I'm not going to summarize the plot, but I'll say that if you liked books like [b:You 20821614 You (You, #1) Caroline Kepnes https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1411958102s/20821614.jpg 39913517] by Caroline Kepness or [b:Best Day Ever 34007977 Best Day Ever Kaira Rouda https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1496783181s/34007977.jpg 55005136] by Kaira Rouda, this might a book for you.The thing that sets this book apart for me is how it touches on how the media often treats women unfairly in cases of relationships gone wrong. As the author notes in her acknowledgements, this book is “a mad spurt of anger at the continued injustices perpetrated against women in our so-called civilized society.” The trial scenes in the second part of the novel are when the book really picked up the pace for me and I found myself unable to put the book down. Also, Hall keeps you guessing through an incredibly manipulative writing style, so that you don't really know what the truth is until the end. Even in the final chapters I was only pretty sure I knew what was happening. This book won't be for everyone, but if you like being in the head of obsessive creepers, I highly recommend it!

“So where does a story that ends in fire and death begin? It begins in the snow on the coldest day of the coldest winter of the last fifty years on their sixth birthday in a silent house. It begins with a body.”Let me start by saying that I'm not generally a fan of YA novels. This one had a good amount of buzz surrounding it, though, and it seemed to have an interesting premise. It's a debut novel, so I expected bumps. This novel, however. starts out dark and atmospheric and then starts to fade pretty quickly into a giant, predictable cliche. I am not exaggerating when I say that I guessed the “twist” ending from reading the prologue. The foreshadowing in this book is about a subtle as a fire alarm. After giving away the farm in the first few pages, the book then manages to continue on for 270-odd pages about a character in a mental institution with zero insight into any kind of mental health issues. I can handle a bad “twist” if the book at least offers some kind of peek into mental illness or a unique look into issues like the ones facing the protagonists (and there were so many to choose from here). This book offered none of that, unfortunately. It relied almost entirely on the suspense building to the big reveal at the end, and, to be honest, even if the ending hadn't been so obvious from the start, the twist was so unoriginal that it would likely have been a disappointment anyway.The plot also falls apart in several big ways. We're told from the start that Alice's goal is to regain her memories from the night of the fire and find her sister. A solid two-thirds of the book revolves around her budding romantic relationship with another boy at the hospital. It's an odd turn of events for someone who is supposedly so hellbent on finding her sister who she believes to be housed in the same facility. When given the opportunity to sneak around at night, she and her new guy end up on the roof chatting, in the kitchen fixing sandwiches, and wandering the grounds. Some of this gallivanting took place the night before Alice was to attend the funeral of her boyfriend, the love of her life, who had died a week or two earlier. For someone we're told is devastated by this loss, the speed of her new-found relationship is a big problem. Also, apparently this hospital has no security whatsoever because none of that is something two kids in a locked-down mental institution should be able to do. Razors were hidden in rooms, key cards easily lifted from several different staff members, locked rooms being broken into, patient files stolen...I mean, at this point that hospital should just be shut down for sheer incompetence in care.I could go on but there's not much point. In the end, the book was a quick read with a not-terribly-complicated writing style. However, because of a weak, nonsensical plot, I can't recommend it to anyone. Hopefully Jean's subsequent work will be more well-constructed. I'm unlikely to read another.My backlist bump for this book includes [b:All the Bright Places 18460392 All the Bright Places Jennifer Niven https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1404331702s/18460392.jpg 26113532] by Jennifer Niven (a YA novel that actually explores mental health issues in teens, including depression and PTSD) or [b:Shutter Island 21686 Shutter Island Dennis Lehane https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1329269081s/21686.jpg 1234227] (a suspense/thriller also set in a mental institution that will keep you up at night with it's creepy plot and shocking ending).

“The real horror of my life is not that I've killed some horrible people. The real horror is that the people I've loved didn't love me back.”

New location, same crazy. It's still hard to dislike Joe (despite his being a murderous psychopath) because he really does have some great insights on life and relationships. Sure, he murders people, but the people he murders are insufferable assholes. He even shows tremendous self restraint in not murdering some people despite there being compelling evidence that they might deserve it. His observations about LA life were spot-on, too. Joe unfortunately doesn't adjust well to LA – people are just too loud, to open, and too casual for Joe's liking. They start to get on his nerves and, like Joe says, “It's the little things that make you want to kill someone.” Kepnes did a brilliant job (again) in making me nervous for Joe – not because I wanted to stop him from committing these heinous crimes, but rather because I was worried he'd get caught.

I also appreciated how unpredictable the plot was, despite being a sequel. Every new death (or non-death) was a surprise and the strange circumstances Joe continually found himself in added an element of unpredictability for the reader. The plot dragged a bit in the middle but the development of Joe as a character, with a good side that complimented his bad side, made up for the uneven pacing. Another surprise was the cliff-hanger ending Kepnes chose to close this installment with. You could have ended where it did and been a brilliant stand-alone novel. Hidden Bodies ends in such a way that I'm now eagerly anticipating the next installment. Joe had just begun what could be the start of a redemption arc so it will be interesting to see how that gets carried through to the next novel.

Overall this book wasn't quite as good as the first book but I think part of that is because Joe's personality and behavior aren't new to the reader anymore, which was part of the charm of You. On the bright side, the new environment, new characters, new revenge angle, and new love interest all worked to create a reading experience that managed to be familiar and fresh all at the same time. I can't wait for the next book!

“Some secrets never die. They're just locked away.”

In this debut novel Alex Dale is a young journalist trying to hold her life together. Consumed by her alcoholism she has destroyed her family and career and is drifting from day to day in a haze, freelancing here and there, trying to remain functional and barely holding on. While writing an article about a doctor who is using brain scans to detect consciousness in coma patients she comes across a young woman who was brutally attacked as a teen decades ago and has shown signs of being somewhat aware of her surroundings. Alex remembers this girl, Amy Stevenson, and the case, being the same age as Amy when the attack occurred, and feels a connection to her. She decides to look deeper into Amy's case to tell her story and, at the same time, face down the addiction that threatens to end her life.

Despite being told from multiple points of view and moving around in time from 1995 (the date of Amy's attack) through to the present day, this book wasn't in the least bit hard to follow. I generally enjoy books that are able to successfully show the motivations of multiple characters and Seddon pulled it off here quite nicely. The glimpses into the neurological ward and patients seemed well-researched despite Seddon's admission that she took some creative liberties with Amy's condition and treatment.

I thought I had guessed Amy's attacker and, while close, didn't quite hit the mark. I always find that a nice surprise, though in this case I was a bit put-off when the attacker was revealed. The actual perpetrator and the motivation behind the attack wasn't really touched on until almost the end, creating a frustrating inability for the reader to follow along with the mystery. As a result, the book would have to be classified more as a “suspense/thriller” than a mystery. The character development was so good, however, that I would have been okay with whatever ending Seddon settled upon. The plot was paced well, descriptive, and while the motivations were a bit unclear for the behavior of some characters, it was overall so believable that I was fully immersed in this story. I can't wait to see what Seddon does next.

(Thank you to NetGalley and Ballantine Books for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.)

Thea Atwell, 15, has been sent from her family home in Florida to attend a girls boarding school for the southern elite, one at which she will learn to become an accomplished horsewoman. Over the course of her stay, she learns to navigate this world filled with young women, much different from the isolated life she led at home with her parents and twin brother, while she recovers from a mysterious tragedy in which she has played a central role.

I had high hopes for YONAHLOSSEE after all of the rave reviews it received. It was described as spellbinding, lush, provocative, and smart. It even made Oprah's Summer Reading List.

Initially, I found the book a page turner. I was drawn into the vivid world DiSclafani described - first the hushed, sheltered world that Thea grew up in, and then the majestic wild of the mountains in which the camp is nestled. The social structure of the camp, with it's regional cliques and finishing school schedule (yes, French was a part of the curicculum) created a picture of life for wealthy young women on the verge of the Great Depression.

My problem with this novel, however, is simply how unlikable Thea is. When the reader is first introduced to Thea, she is a quiet girl, reluctant to leave her father's side. She is timid and shy but has a deep love for horses, and we are treated to hints about a family scandal that ruined her family's life back home in Floriday. As Thea becomes more acclimated to her life at the camp, she has to make choices about her relationships with the other girls, as well as with the adults in her life. She does not simply make bad choices of the kind you would attribute to a girl her age, but dangerous and disturbing choices that made me question the author's purpose for this character. Thea was also an extremely selfish character, which is to be expected at her age, but without a transformation into a young woman more cognizant of her situation in life, the novel's ending was weak, rushed, and ultimately disappointing.

In addition, the other characters were not well developed and felt like shallow stereotypes. Her brother was described as an animal lover with no other apparent characteristics. Sissy, Thea's friend at the camp, was a sweet girl that everyone liked but was sheltered and foolish. The adults are even worse - her parents are portrayed as having created a “progressive childhood,” but it is never explained why they kept their children so sheltered and separate, or if they had desires and hopes of their own.

In the end, this was a book I truly wanted to like, but just couldn't find much about it to enjoy.

(I received a free copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.)

Part fantasy, part western, The Gunsinger follows Roland of Gilead, the last Gunslinger, as he tracks the mysterious Man in Black across the wastelands of a world that appears to be some version of our own. On his journey, Roland meets a young boy, Jake, who has appeared in this world from 1970s New York City. He joins Roland on his trek across the desert and into the mountains, hoping to find the Man in Black, who has the amazing ability to raise the dead.

I need to preface this review by saying that I love Stephen King. I do not, however, love fantasy or westerns. As a result I have mixed reviews about this book. I found the overall story intriguing even as I found specific parts of the story uninteresting. I found specific passages mesmerizing even as I found the writing, overall, to not be what I had expected from King. I will probably pick up the series eventually and I hope the writing will continue to improve and that I'll get drawn into the story of Roland and the Man in Black, but so far I'm not feeling an urge to run out and grab the next book.

“It's my experience that people are a lot more sympathetic if they can see you hurting, and for the millionth time in my life I wish for measles or smallpox or some other easily understood disease just to make it easier on me and also on them.”

Finch and Violet meet on the ledge of their school's bell tower one fall afternoon, each wondering what it would be like to end it all, though stopping short of taking the leap after being surprised to find the other there. Finch, a self-proclaimed loner who is fascinated with death is surprised to find popular Violet in the same situation, though she won't admit to him her reasons for being on the ledge that day. While she resists his efforts to form a friendship, he arranges for them to be partners on a class project, determined to get to know her. During their year together, the two broken teens wander their state, finding beauty and happiness in odd places.

With this book, Jennifer Niven may have changed my mind about YA fiction. Usually I find that tales of heartbroken, “damaged” teens feel forced: rife with kids who can't send a text using full words then make melodramatic speeches (yeah, I'm looking at you, Fault in Our Stars) and parents who are a stereotype. All The Bright Places, however, manages to not only capture authentic teen voices, but also show their daily struggles (bullying, friendships, searching for identity, family dynamics, etc.) without being patronizing.

That's not to say there aren't problems with this novel. The school they attend seems woefully ill-equipped to deal with teenagers. A guidance counselor Finch sees regularly knows of his bell tower visit yet doesn't make any concerted effort to contact Finch's parents, voicemails home go unanswered for the entire year with no follow-up, Finch regularly misses weeks of school, yet there's also no fall-out. Also, the secondary characters are not well developed and sometimes fade into the background, with the possible exception of Finch's and Violet's parents, who demonstrate their dysfunction in opposing ways.

The remarkable thing about this novel, however, is how Niven realistically portrays depression and mental illness. Finch describes his dark times:

I get into these moods sometimes, and I can't shake them. Kind of
black sinking moods. I imagine it's like what being in the eye of a
tornado would be like, all calm and blinding at the same time. I hate
them.

Finch copes by hiding in his closet, making his world small and manageable, until he feels “awake” again and can emerge to face everything again. A school counselor suggests he may have bipolar and Finch fights this suggestion, afraid that he will become even more of a “freak.” Niven manages to capture Finch's desire for an understanding even as he resists the label of a diagnosis.

Strangely, even though others have said that they saw the ending coming, I was so swept up in the story and my concern for these two characters that I was as blindsided by the ending as the characters were - surprised even though, in retrospect, it was probably inevitable. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys John Greene and Rainbow Rowell...but also to those who don't. This book was pitch-perfect in a field of books that otherwise strain a bit too hard to hit the right note.

Hercule Poirot is having a quiet dinner in his favorite London coffeehouse when he encounters a young woman who is terrified of being murdered. Later that day Poirot hears of a murder at an upscale London hotel and accompanies the Scotland Yard detective staying in his boardinghouse to the scene of the crime. There he learns of a mysterious clue...a monogrammed cuff link left in the mouth of each of the three victims. He can't help but think that the young woman he met earlier that night may be the murder's fourth victim...

I personally really enjoyed this book, though I know it's taken some hard hits from other reviewers and even some critics. I didn't go into this expecting the writing to be anything like Christie's writing because - gasp - Sophie Hannah isn't Agatha Christie! Of course the writing won't be a replica of the original Poirot works. Hannah does, however, capture Poirot's personality - his disdain over a lack of imagination in his detective partner, his excitement when he's put two clues together, and his pompous explanations at the close of the book. Hannah also successfully captures the importance of motive and psychology to the plot. She is able to show us both the morality and the darkness of the characters in her story in a way that was vitally important in all of Christie's work.

In the end, the Monogram Murders should not be looked at as a “continuation” of the Poirot library, but rather a new interpretation of an old familiar character. The puzzling twists and turns of the plot, the voices of the characters, and the seeming impossibility of the mystery are all echoes of the Christie I love, with the fabulous writing of Hannah to pull it all together.

Wow.So, after reading this book, I completely understand why it provoked such strong reactions from people when it was released. I mean, who really WANTS to read a book about a sexual predator using her status as a teacher to seduce young men into destructive relationships? But, I have to admit, I couldn't put it down. I literally read this book in less than a day. It sucked me in like a train wreck you can't look away from and didn't let up until the unbelievable (unless you watch the news) ending.I'm sure by now everyone knows that this book is filled with graphic descriptions of sex and it pulls no punches. You WILL want to take a shower after reading it - it's that gross. Even more disturbing than the graphic nature of the book was the honest, almost sociopathic way in which Celeste, the protagonist, goes about explaining what drives her.The book opens as Celeste, a 24-year-old 8th-grade teacher in Tampa, is preparing for the first day of school. Over the next several weeks she'll peruse the available students in her classes and settle on Jack, a quiet 14-year old in her English class. She then seduces him and embarks on a sexual relationship with him, dodging her police officer husband, his absent divorced father, and a handful of potentially nosy neighbors and coworkers.There is no pretense of feelings on her part, though Jack romanticizes the relationship - for Celeste, it is entirely about sex. Her non-stop fixation on sex borders on the pornographic. (This is not a book you will be inclined to loan out to people or recommend to friends.) Claire is a sociopath. She doesn't attempt to rationalize or pretend that her desires are something they aren't, nor does she attempt to elicit sympathy from the reader by blaming her predilections on past trauma, they just are what they are. She wants to dominate every situation, emotionally manipulating everyone in her life to cave to her needs, and she is matter of fact about it, from start to finish. Strikingly, Celeste speaks of no friends with whom she has an honest relationship. Every single one of the few relationships she has is based on a lie. She shows no contrition for her deviancy, nor does she make any attempt to control it.Through straightforward, graphic prose and a well-developed female antagonist that will remind you of [b:Gone Girl 21480930 Gone Girl Gillian Flynn https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1406511734s/21480930.jpg 13306276], Nutting has given us an American Psycho-esque look into the mind of a predator. While I'm not sure I liked it, I'm glad I read it.