Thursday’s husband, Seth, has two other wives. She’s never met them, and she doesn’t know anything about them. She agreed to this unusual arrangement because she’s so crazy about him.
But one day, she finds something. Something that tells a very different—and horrifying—story about the man she married.
What follows is one of the most twisted, shocking thrillers you’ll ever read.
You’ll have to grab a copy to find out why.
It’s overwhelming how numerous domestic thriller novels have proliferated the book community over the course of the years. With the increasing cases of domestic violence, divorce, and adultery, it’s no longer a surprise that female readers find themselves drawn to narratives that represent themselves within the context of marriage and relationships, abuse and the rightful justice they deserve. The aphorism, “fiction as a reflection of reality” can never be truer than this case.
Tarry Fisher’s, “The Wives” presents an interesting premise about a wife who shares her husband with two other wives. I have presumed the plot could go a hundred ways. From the outset, the novel started out strong, fast-paced, and unputdownable, emitting “The Girl on the Train” vibes. But as the story progresses, I suddenly find myself navigating blindly, apparently lost in the story’s game of cat and mouse that the rising tension seems to fluctuate. I no longer felt the need to keep up with the plot and it didn’t help that I find the main character pathetically annoying and vulgar. Whatever attempt at constructing an unreliable narrator to justify the plot, create a surprising plot twist, and to mislead the readers had been futile.
Overall, “The Wives” failed to grip me further on the basis of a seemingly forced plot with a lot of loose ends and loopholes. There is not one character to root for. I felt the author was too focused on putting things into the story, meaning to progress in a specific way but the unlikely circumstances lack plausible and effective ways to create a somehow dependable thriller.
Vermont, 1950. There’s a place for the girls whom no one wants–the troublemakers, the illegitimate, the too smart for their own good. It’s called Idlewild Hall. And in the small town where it’s located, there are rumors that the boarding school is haunted. Four roommates bond over their whispered fears, their budding friendship blossoming–until one of them mysteriously disappears. . . .
Vermont, 2014. As much as she’s tried, journalist Fiona Sheridan cannot stop revisiting the events surrounding her older sister’s death. Twenty years ago, her body was found lying in the overgrown fields near the ruins of Idlewild Hall. And though her sister’s boyfriend was tried and convicted of murder, Fiona can’t shake the suspicion that something was never right about the case.
When Fiona discovers that Idlewild Hall is being restored by an anonymous benefactor, she decides to write a story about it. But a shocking discovery during the renovations will link the loss of her sister to secrets that were meant to stay hidden in the past–and a voice that won’t be silenced.
Where do I even begin?
I have always been fascinated by any piece of literature that involves horror or paranormal themes be it in films or novels. There is something quite ghoulishly appealing in spine-tingling supernatural elements that no matter how much you dread watching or reading the scary parts, you just can’t seem to stop.
Simone St. James’ novel, “The Broken Girls”, immediately hit the ranks reserved for novels I’ve mostly anticipated but did not disappoint. I have known about this book when I began my search for horror-based genre novels and came across this gem highly recommended. There is more to this novel than just its brilliant interplay between Gothic elements and the mysterious trail of whodunit. St. James was able to craft a narrative that depicts horror, mystery, history, and social injustices such as racism, corruption, the Nazi concentration camps, and unresolved murder cases. The result: a five-star novel that is hard to put down and even more difficult to part with.
The story unfolds with a prologue, establishing the plot’s context, setting off the dark and sinister atmosphere of the novel. It embarks on the usual trail of horror and mystery books plotted using dual timelines and alternating third-person POVs, meant to suspend and thrill the readers of what’s to happen next, perfectly dispersing out the clues until the puzzle is complete. St. James crafted this novel to combine a period piece and a modern-day setting, intelligently contrasting human behaviors in relation to the culture and environment at the time. The novel’s central plot may be about the mysteries surrounding two separate murders committed decades apart but St. James offers her readers a lot more to reflect on.
I believe one of the reasons why readers are drawn to ghost stories is to dig into the infernal past of why such ghosts, eerie presence, and malevolent beings haunt the living, depicted in various origins since varying cultures first existed. Readers are drawn to the genre–to understand why ghosts exist–why they continue to haunt one’s dreams and feed on one’s fears–or if they are real or are simply the conjuring of the human mind.
In her novel, “The Broken Girls”, St. James has masterfully created a suspense thriller fused with paranormal elements but these tropes are mere literary tools to expose the dangers of human faculties acting on pride, greed, and anger. It exposes human fragility and how brokenness either leads the way to redemption or toward self-destruction. The Idlewild Hall symbolizes an abyss where people can simply dump their sins away; where dark secrets are buried, left to rot and decay. It is a story of survival and the need to find closure when others seemed to have forgotten and laid to rest. Haunting and sad, but generously strengthened by the powerful force of love, friendship, and revenge, “The Broken Girls” is a masterfully written novel that encompasses varying fiction genres heralding Simone St. James as one of the greatest novelists of our time.
Selina Lennox is a Bright Young Thing. Her life is a whirl of parties and drinking, pursued by the press and staying on just the right side of scandal, all while running from the life her parents would choose for her.
Lawrence Weston is a penniless painter who stumbles into Selina’s orbit one night and can never let her go even while knowing someone of her stature could never end up with someone of his. Except Selina falls hard for Lawrence, envisioning a life of true happiness. But when tragedy strikes, Selina finds herself choosing what’s safe over what’s right.
Spanning two decades and a seismic shift in British history as World War II approaches, Iona Grey’s The Glittering Hour is an epic novel of passion, heartache, and loss.
“The Glittering Hour” by Iona Grey is a lush portrayal of the glamorous yet outrageous life of the “Bright Young Things” of the 1920s. Selina Lennox, along with her friends Flick and Theo, were the son and daughters of the high society, aristocrats, and middle-class people: a generation too young to be sent into the battle of the Great War. Hounded by the paparazzi who were every inch hungry to have a glimpse into the intriguing lives and imminent dissolution of these rebellious, promiscuous and carefree boys and girls, chased around London while notoriously reveling in extravagant parties and theatrics, enjoying treasure hunting in fast cars, and experimenting with drugs.
Selina’s carefree disposition, embroidered with a carpe diem attitude, had been her family’s cause of concern and disapproval. Adored and favored by her brother Howard from when she was little, Selina’s high spirits were a result of her brother’s favor that she should enjoy life’s pleasures and live for the moment. After Howard’s death, Selina cocooned her grief by throwing herself into lavish parties with her friends. But when her path unexpectedly crossed with Lawrence Weston, an impoverished artist who knew better than to mingle with someone of Selina’s stature, their lives were suddenly swept from a forbidden love affair to a tragedy that will make them choose between love and practicality.
This novel brought me to tears. Grey’s circuitous and poetic writing is impeccable as the way she has framed a time once loved and lost then brought back to life for her readers to acknowledge and understand. Selina’s narrative reminds me once again why historical novels have always captivated me: to fathom the extremes of human behavior set against the political, social, and cultural circumstances and struggles of a particular era.
Enthralling, heartbreaking, and hauntingly beautiful, “The Glittering Hour” is a celebration of a generation catapulted into an ironic twist of the remnants of the Great War and the boisterous parade of the plummeting wealth of the once rich and powerful scarred by death and financial duties. A moving tale of love and sacrifice and of life and of death, Grey’s masterpiece of a novel disarms the readers of prejudices, instead ignites a discussion on ethical dilemmas. The novel’s heartfelt finale proves that love will always find its way in the most glittering hour of our lives.
Their foster mother, Carol, has always been fanatical, but with Jazz grown up and out of the house, Carol takes a dangerous turn that threatens thirteen-year-old Joaquin’s life. Over and over, child services fails to intervene, and Joaquin is running out of time.
Then Jazz gets a blocked call from someone offering a solution. There are others like her—people the law has failed. They’ve formed an underground network of “helpers,” each agreeing to eliminate the abuser of another. They’re taking back their power and leaving a trail of bodies throughout Los Angeles—dubbed the Blackbird Killings. If Jazz joins them, they’ll take care of Carol for good.
Armed with an intriguing plot, “The Kill Club” by Wendy Heard depicts the true-crime scenario of murder-for-hire instigators. Heard noted that none of the stories portrayed in her novel are fictional–that these contract killings are real and much more sinister than fiction.
“The Kill Club” illustrates the provocation behind people who seek murder-for-hire running on lethal hate and desperation or frustrations from the social and judicial system. These are people who have run out of options and have taken liberties to put an end to abuse or a lifetime of shame and suffering from fractured relationships. And then there are those motivated by greed, jealousy, or are just plain twisted.
As a thriller genre fanatic, I was immediately attracted to the book’s premise. Armed with strong female leads, this book was a quick read from start to finish. It is the kind of story that makes you question how far can you go to protect someone or yourself from faulty individuals or from a defective society. Readers also get to inspect the motivation behind the novel’s antagonists who seem to justify creating the “Kill Club” as a solution, not an assassination, to a flawed judicial system. A chilling revelation nevertheless a truth that is as real as it is fictionalized.
But the story is not all about murder. Heard also tackled issues of social hierarchy–the demarcation between the rich and the poor, social injustices, religious fanaticism, and domestic abuse. All of which pose bigger problems that almost always result in criminal acts. The novel is also a reflection of the fallibility of the social system that incessantly brings about violence deemed as the final refuge of the desperate, leaving crime problems insolvable.
A thriller that will keep you guessing until the end, “The Kill Club” is a social commentary novel that will appeal to the reader’s sense of justice, pondering upon concerns such as taking the law into one’s own hands and the justification of such acts.
Save for the not-so-appealing aspects of the novel, the main premise is interesting enough and worthy of discussion. Details such as the flimsy attempt to pass the novel as lesbian literature felt misplaced. The multiple twists and turns fell flat for me; the timeline was quite confusing, and the writing has been subpar at best. The sudden emergence of more characters left no room for development. The motivation behind the Blackbird killings was a total letdown. I was expecting a grander scheme and a more believable and strategic discourse. Now, what bothers me up to this point is the messy reasoning behind having someone do your dirty work only to return the favor. Isn’t the logic behind hiring someone to do the killing, is for you to be rid of blood in your hands? As messed up as it is, “The Kill Club” may have failed to end on a high-octane note but it still had a good run from the onset.
When Charlotte and Philip meet, the pair form a deep and instant connection. Soon they’re settled in the Florida Keys with plans to marry. But just as they should be getting closer, Charlotte feels Philip slipping away.
Second-guessing their love is something Charlotte never imagined, but with Philip’s excessive absences, she finds herself yearning for more. When she meets Ben, she ignores the pull, but the supportive single dad is there for her in ways she never knew she desired. Soon Charlotte finds herself torn between the love she thought she wanted and the one she knows she needs.
As a hurricane passes through Islamorada, stunning revelations challenge Charlotte’s loyalties and upend her life. Forced to reexamine the choices she’s made, and has yet to make, Charlotte embarks on an emotional journey of friendship, love, and sacrifice—knowing that forgiveness is a gift, and the best-laid plans can change in a heartbeat.
“This is Not How it Ends” by Rochelle B. Weinstein is a character-driven narrative on finding love while coping with grief and loss. The story centers on Charlotte who found love through some romantic twist of fate but finds tragedy almost always coinciding; tricking her into being hopeful only for that hope to be shattered once again. This is a story about culpability, forgiveness, and acceptance of how fate plays a neat trick on people’s lives.
Told from the first-person point of view, executed with dual timelines, Weinstein’s writing style is characterized by her use of descriptive imagery, wordy prose, and emotional dialogues. I fell in love with how Weinstein had beautifully described every emotion, every behavior, and perspective of her characters. One could feel the wisdom emanating from every word as well as the pain and irony from every discourse. It is hard not to love a novel written magically with nothing but palpable words to hold on to.
A somewhat predictable slow burn romance story but complemented with themes on alternative medicine, cancer, LGBT, and death, Weinstein’s novel not only narrates but informs and enlightens. I was easily drawn to this serendipitous-slash-forbidden type of love story despite my suspicions on how the story will likely end. While the plot screams the usual love triangle trope, what impelled me were the inner struggles brought about by the guilt of betraying someone you love. How choices are restricted because of personal and external pressures acting on socially acceptable values and behaviors. Lessons on love and life proliferate this novel that while the story may be draggy at times, it doesn’t deviate from what compels readers to perpetually enjoy romance novels: believing in love amidst the blackest remnants of the past.
For years, rumors of the “Marsh Girl” have haunted Barkley Cove, a quiet town on the North Carolina coast. So in late 1969, when handsome Chase Andrews is found dead, the locals immediately suspect Kya Clark, the so-called Marsh Girl. But Kya is not what they say. Sensitive and intelligent, she has survived for years alone in the marsh that she calls home, finding friends in the gulls and lessons in the sand. Then the time comes when she yearns to be touched and loved. When two young men from town become intrigued by her wild beauty, Kya opens herself to a new life–until the unthinkable happens.
Perfect for fans of Barbara Kingsolver and Karen Russell, Where the Crawdads Sing is at once an exquisite ode to the natural world, a heartbreaking coming-of-age story, and a surprising tale of possible murder. Owens reminds us that we are forever shaped by the children we once were, and that we are all subject to the beautiful and violent secrets that nature keeps.
This magnificent debut novel has captured the heart and soul of its readers while maintaining its rank as one of the bestselling novels of 2018. Written by Delia Owens, an American author, and zoologist, “Where the Crawdads Sing” is a written declaration of how one woman’s’ desire for love and affection, from what appears a lifetime of solitude, brings about a tale of survival amidst prejudice and discrimination.
This is the story of Kya, abandoned by her parents and siblings at such a tender age with nothing but the marsh left to teach her how to survive and live her growing years. Kya’s narrative is a picturesque tale of a lone white woman who had survived years living alone in a shack in the North Carolina marsh, her existence educated and nurtured by the natural world. As Kya learns to deal with her loneliness, she finds herself longing to be with someone who would fill the gaps left by her own family. Just as mother nature offered her bosom to Kya, she, in turn, allowed herself to be drawn to two men enamored of her bewildering beauty. Hopeful for the first time in years, Kya’s grip on normalcy ushered in another challenge–one that she was unable to face: a murder case charging her as the only viable suspect.
What made this novel utterly compelling is the way Owens applied her profession and knowledge of animals’ fundamental biological principles to human interaction. The symbiosis that marveled between humans and animals is remarkably described and portrayed. Mutualism and the adaptive collaboration between Kya and nature are the heart and soul of this novel.
Owens’s debut novel is a work of art; a tour-de-force similar to the rave and success accomplished by “How to Kill a Mockingbird”. This book tackled a nuance of themes ranging from prejudice, racism, abandonment, survival to love, murder trial, and forgiveness. The lush imagery and lyrical prose that Owens was able to craft interlaced with such a heartbreaking but inspiring plot are what impelled the readers to this book. I don’t think there is anything left to say about this novel that has not yet been published. “Where the Crawdads Sing” combines imagery, poetry, and suspense interwoven into the fabric of social reality. Armed with multitudes of learning moments and valuable experiences, Kya’s narrative begs us to understand how human behavior acts independently of the values held by social hierarchies and cultures. A novel that is worth the wait and will be among the string of timeless classics: a wondrous tale, sad but beautiful; compelling yet insightful.
Soon after her twenty-fifth birthday, Libby Jones returns home from work to find the letter she’s been waiting for her entire life. She rips it open with one driving thought: I am finally going to know who I am.
She soon learns not only the identity of her birth parents, but also that she is the sole inheritor of their abandoned mansion on the banks of the Thames in London’s fashionable Chelsea neighborhood, worth millions. Everything in Libby’s life is about to change. But what she can’t possibly know is that others have been waiting for this day as well—and she is on a collision course to meet them.
Twenty-five years ago, police were called to 16 Cheyne Walk with reports of a baby crying. When they arrived, they found a healthy ten-month-old happily cooing in her crib in the bedroom. Downstairs in the kitchen lay three dead bodies, all dressed in black, next to a hastily scrawled note. And the four other children reported to live at Cheyne Walk were gone.
In The Family Upstairs, the master of “bone-chilling suspense” (People) brings us the can’t-look-away story of three entangled families living in a house with the darkest of secrets.
Lisa Jewell’s seventeenth novel, “The Family Upstairs” was a lot to take in. From the novel’s prologue up until the final chapter, I couldn’t put the book down. It urges you to flip one more page until you find yourself a page left before the Acknowledgments. Having read the book’s final lines, I found myself having to deal with the aftermath of emotional reverberations.
Lined with a gripping storyline, seared with Gothic elements and literary irony, Jewell has written a story of innocence lost and lives stolen and how those betrayed of their childhood would do anything to claim what was rightfully theirs.
Jewell’s enigmatic and descriptive writing style is enough to hook you. Her writing technique changes for every character that doesn’t just highlight the writing skill of the author but also helps set character behaviors apart.
The multiple first-person POVs were expertly done balancing out the suspense as the readers go through each of the character’s narrative. Jewell has written the chapters in such a way that she ends every chapter with a cliffhanger. The alternating POVs were laid out in a manner that responds to the baffling questions raised in the previous chapter. Jewell has done a masterful job transitioning between dual timeframes that being transported into different scenes felt like a real palpable journey for the readers.
But unlike many other thriller novels, “The Family Upstairs” rejects the usual murder mystery trope found in most books of the same genre. This novel offers its readers something else entirely: a narrative about getting back what was once lost. It is predominantly a novel about the relationship between parents and their children and how families differ from one another. Several times throughout the novel I found myself rooting for a happy ending begging myself not to turn a page for fear of a darker plot twist. But the underlying thrill in settling for mystery novels asserts an irrevocable fact: the more sinister it gets, the better.
Despite gaining mixed reviews, “The Family Upstairs” is one of the few novels that truly captivated me from start to finish. It is riveting, twisted but metamorphic. It consumed me, scared me out of my wits but in the end, it made me understand how important family is.