I’ve noticed a lot of commentary the past month or so regarding what people are reading – whether it’s venturing out of their comfort zone because all of this lockdown time has provided ample opportunities for reading or, alternatively, those who are remaining firmly planted in their wheelhouses because the world in general has become different enough. I have found my tribe in those who have come out of the closet and admit they enjoy looking for something in the dark rather than the light, the crazy rather than the cozy, the stabby rather than the snuggly, the . . . well you get the picture.
Jennifer Hillier is an author who falls into that category. She starts off with a simple enough storyline that’s already not for the weak of heart – a kidnapping at a local shopping center by a person dressed in a Santa suit. The chances of ever discovering the whodunit are obviously next to nothing, but the mother hires a private investigator anyway as a last resort when the case goes cold. A year later that mother (Marin) finds out allllllll sorts of stuff. Not about her son, but about her husband Derek’s affair. And she decides that if she can’t do anything to get her child back, she can do whatever it takes to save her marriage.
See what I mean with that first gif? She’s just batshit. Hillier’s mind goes from 0 to 60 and while her stories may be over the top and crazy, they walk the knife’s edge from getting too Lifetimey and campy. Really my only “gripe” about this is . . . . .
God I hate face covers. They are just so generic.
ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you, NetGalley!
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