The wedding vow

by Dandy Smith

Everyone’s a liar.

An aspirational couple’s perfect life is shattered when Verity, a successful self-made woman returns home from a Yoga retreat to find her husband Linden bashed to death in the lounge. Nefarious goings-on hurtle Verity and her cousin Addison into a thrilling and dangerous search for the truth where everyone has something to hide.

Verity is an influencer based in Bath, and the story is chock-a-block with homage to the beautiful city and its quirky bedroom towns. The believable cast of glittering young professionals all have secrets. As Verity discovers the depth of Linden’s philandering and deceit and her brand ‘Verity Rose’ becomes everything to her. She suspects everyone. Her lookalike cousin Addison provides a voice of reason, reigning her wilder imaginings in. Her best friend Mimi goes AWOL, and the spotlight falls on women and men that have reason to want Linden dead.

The writing is stylish and smart. A deadly plot and delectable twist are Christie-esque in their mastery. There’s a whiff of Hitchcock too: MacGuffins, mysterious blondes and tense interiors. She even dips her toe into the ‘Dandyverse’ by namechecking the fated Elodie Fray from ‘One small mistake’. Like a Michelin-starred chef, Dandy sets out her delectable mise-en-place and we are greedy to find out where it is destined to go. Piece by piece the evidence builds up and with surgical precision, the murderer is revealed. The chapters alternate between ‘The Wife’ and ‘The Other Woman’ creating dramatic tension and an increasing desire to get at the truth. The authorial voice is strong and sure with snatches of humour, dark, delicious and biting, and insight into Millennial living and angst. Wherever Dandy Smith directs, the reader goes willingly.

The Wedding Vow is a lean, sexy and beguiling psychological thriller serving as a post mortem of a toxic relationship. The characters are presented in living colour and the plot is anything but beige. If you are lucky enough to feature in one of Dandy Smith’s novels, you better have the chops to keep singing when she sends you purple rain. Some promises should be kept at all costs, like a wedding vow, and like an author who pledges a domestic thriller and delivers a story as fabulous and compelling as this. If you’re a fan of Gillian Flynn, Lisa Jewell or K.L. Slater, you will love this novel.

Thanks to Embla Books and NetGalleyUK for the eARC. I devoured it.

Butter

By Asako Yuzuki, translated by Polly Barton

Rika, a 33 year-old journo working for a men’s weekly magazine in Japan, breaks out of her beige existence when investigating a serial killer. Manako Kajii, awaiting trial, is a romance fraudster who attracted her victims with delicious gourmet cooking. Rika requests one of her killer recipes and is granted an audience. Pursuing the truth with fangirl-level obsession, Rika discovers an untapped pleasure in food, friends and life.

Based on real events, Asako Yusuki has done something really clever by rendering a story that reads like a time capsule for our current era. It depicts the horsemen of the 21st century apocalypse: misogyny, fame, trolling, and body shaming. The book begins amid a heatwave-induced butter shortage, so even climate change gets a look-in. It is beautifully written and Polly Barton’s translation delivers an evocative account richly steeped in all the senses for the English reader to savour.

The story is a rich stew of ingredients. Each fully formed character benefits from a graceful, rounded construction, and no sense is left untouched in the author’s world-building. Rika’s tense journey to authenticity and meaning inspires empathy. Amid the Nigella-level food adjectives bob a few rolling metaphors that add to the brilliant poetic depth of the text. It’s an enjoyable read by a master storyteller.

‘Butter’ is a thrilling story that could be a ‘Julie and Julia’ remix by Stephen King. It’s coolly stylistic like Capote’s ‘In cold blood’ but hotly contemporary like Curtis Sittenfeld’s ‘Romantic Comedy’ and stingingly alert like Sarai Walker’s ‘Dietland’. I will be buying copies for all my friends. Fantastic. Thanks to NetGalleyUK and 4th Estate for the eARC.

The wrong daughter

by Dandy Smith

I could not put this book down.

Dandy Smith introduces us to Caitlin Arden, a twenty-something year 5 teacher who, sixteen years ago, watched in horror as her thirteen year-old sister Olivia was abducted from the family home by a masked man. Wracked by survivor’s guilt, Caitlin finds the only way to relate to her grief-stricken parents is to sacrifice her own dreams of travel and art and devote herself to being the dutiful daughter. When Olivia turns up out of the blue, Caitlin is convinced that Olivia is not all that she seems. Alone in her doubts about Olivia’s identity, Caitlin loses friends and family. Even her idyllic engagement is thrown into jeopardy.

With a sorceress’s flair, Dandy casts a glamour over each character so the reader is left wondering who to trust and desperate to unpick the evolving mystery. Each cast member is treated like a favoured child by the author. They have recognisable idiosyncrasies, desires and doubts. You will find something to love about all of them, even the bad ones.

If you value your manicure, read it with gloves on. It’s thrilling. The plotting gallops effortlessly though as hazardous as the Grand National. Dandy Smith proves herself an architectural whizz with story structure, but wields her pen like an artist. There are beautifully described scenes like her sister’s eyes blue as ‘glacial lakes and summer skies’ the fatally gothic Ledbury Hall where the library ‘smells of strong coffee, of leather and learning,’ and an ‘Eastenders’ worthy wedding catfight that will have you in stitches. The setting is the modern grandeur of Bath steeped in the laid-back beauty of Somerset with a lusty dose of the more dark and mysterious Yorkshire. It’s immersive and cinematic writing.

If you’re a fan of strong contemporary female characters where sisters do it for themselves, then this book will grip you like a vice. It has all the rich psychological unpicking of Lisa Jewell or Ruth Ware. If you haven’t read ‘One Small Mistake’ and ‘The Perfect Match’ then rush out and get copies. A Dandy Smith novel is a wedding dress with a beautifully heart-shaped bloodstain. She is certainly an author to follow. Thanks to NetGalleyUK and Embla Books for the eARC.

Half a soul – Regency Faerie Tales v1

by Olivia Atwater

Theodora (Dora) has been cursed by a member of faerie gentry who yanks away half her soul. Left with a telltale mark, she is spurned and ridiculed by her aunt.  Her cousin, and champion, the lovely Vanessa, is a whisper from twenty which is nigh spinsterhood in Regency society. Vanessa does not take no for an answer when it comes time to mingle in London society, enabling her to take Dora along. Dora and Vanessa soon set their bonnets for some smouldering leggy types and here begins the adventure.

The story has action and adventure and a soupcon of magic that moves the plot along. In time-honoured tradition there is a gaggle of gossipy aunts determined to chaperone the pair into submission and provide lots of backstory. There’s a couple of glorious baddies – the maleficent Lord Hollowvale and the miserable Master Ricks – both oozing with evil, a Darcy-esque lead and some upstanding young men of good character (it must be said). There’s a captivating subplot in a notorious Workhouse that inspires empathy and outrage.

I was delighted and captivated by this Austentatious romance half set in the world of faerie. Dubious at first (faerie is not my thing), any scepticism melted as the story flowed smooth as a chocolate fountain. Dora is a brilliant neuro-diverse main character and many readers will become besotted with the golden Lord Sorcier. I don’t know how Olivia Atwater managed such a engaging, meaningful and believable tale except she must have one foot in faerie-land as well. I cannot wait to dig into the Atwater Scandal Sheets and read more Regency Faerie Tales. Thanks to Little, Brown Book Group and NetGalley UK for the eARC.

The rising tide

by Ann Cleeves

Vera and her team are called to action after a minor celeb is found hanged on Holy Isle. Though pathologist Paul Keating suspects suicide, Vera thinks otherwise. Questioning begins of the other visitors to Pilgrim’s House, who happen to be part of the victim’s fifty-year school reunion. A meticulous forensic examination of the sixty-somethings unravels old mischief and messy lives in true whodunit fashion. Soon another body turns up dead and the police effort steps up.

This latest outing of Vera and her crew really packs a punch. While it begins with very little to go on, they rootle through the details like landmine-sniffing rats. Ann Cleeves holds back the details and creates a cast of tight-lipped unreliable witnesses that create an uphill climb for the team. The author has more surprises in store for them – not all happy – so keep a hanky close by.

Reading another Vera is like slipping into very comfortable house slippers. There is the familiar band of players, the glorious and grim Northumberland setting, the drip drip drip of forensic detail. Ms Cleeves ekes out new background details for Vera and her squad to answer any questions of motivation and desire and regret. If you’ve seen the TV series, it’s impossible not to see those faces as you read, but in a good way.

The books are laid out as police procedurals, “who was where when”, and this one doesn’t disappoint. The author lays traps and false leads, too, as well as a good deal of foreshadowing. Even if you work out the killer’s identity early on, there is plenty to puzzle through. I saw Ann Cleeves talk at our local Bookshop on a promo for her Matthew Venn series. I asked her what she was reading and she put me on to Mick Herron (who I now adore!), it was good he gets a cameo in the book (and perhaps a prescient one).

If you are a fan of Agatha Christie’s ‘Miss Marple’ series, if you like Scandi noir from Henning Mankell, Camilla Läckberg or can’t live without Donna Leon’s Commissario Guido Brunetti, go for Ann Cleeves and her troupe of detectives: Vera Stanhope, Jimmy Perez and Matthew Venn. I love Vera so much I created a playlist on Spotify to listen to while I read. (Try the Unthanks for some true Northumberland magic.)

Thanks to NetGalley UK and Pan Macmillan for the eARC. *****

The Agathas

Kathleen Glasgow and Liz Lawson

Castle Cove is just an ordinary seaside town…with skeletons in its closet. Two young women have died in mysterious circumstances, while another went missing for a week. When an heiress from the local high school washes up dead, two local girls from different sides of the track form a deadly detective duo as adults blur lines and local police botch the investigation.

Alice Ogilvie is a popular, wealthy underachiever while Iris Adams is a poor but intelligent loner with a posse of nerd friends. When Iris is asked to tutor Alice by the school guidance counsellor, she jumps at the chance to make a few extra bucks. Alice, an Agatha Christie fan, soon becomes obsessed by her friend Brooke’s murder. Smelling a cosy little reward offered by the girl’s wealthy grandmother, Iris isn’t far behind and the ‘Agathas’ are born.

There is plenty to love about this story, the action and tension are high, Alice’s backstory provides an ongoing mystery, and the frustration of corrupt police and unreliable adults kept my knuckles firmly in the white zone. Iris’s backstory is also complex and will keep you guessing until the last chapter. There is humour, too, and all-too-real life dilemmas that firmly ground the story in the everyday making it even more chilling.

All the characters are brought to vivid life, even Dotty of Dotty’s Doughnuts jumps off the page. True to the eponymous detective, there are more red herrings than a fish supper – and delicious ones at that. There are a few winks and nods to popular culture for the sharp-eyed and enough teenage angst to bring you out in spots. I really liked the way the authors handled the social media aspect. Sometimes this can be so clunky, but it married up expertly with the story.

Kudos to Kathleen and Liz for pulling off the impossible (unless you’re David Levithan and Rachel Cohn) and co-writing a seamless and brilliantly energetic YA murder story. If you liked their own books, ‘Girl in pieces’ and ‘The lucky ones’, you’ll be in your element, and if you’re a Karen McManus or Holly Jackson fan you will surely be in seventh heaven. There are hints at another case for the Agathas, and I will be checking the socials for updates.

Thanks to NetGalley and Oneworld for the eARC : *****

Femlandia

by Christina Dalcher

Who would have the thought things could get any worse? But in Femlandia, Christina Dalcher serves up a dystopian look at the utter breakdown of society. It’s a violent world where the economic infrastructure has collapsed. The power has run out and utilities have run dry. The shops have been looted and it’s every man for himself. Literally.

Miranda’s husband, a dotcom entrepreneur, took the quick way out (like many others) and drove his Maserati off a mountain. Miranda and teenage daughter Emma hold out for as long as they can but soon take to the road to seek sanctuary at one of the country’s female-only compounds: Femlandia. Slight problem. Femlandia was founded by Miranda’s mother Win, and to say they don’t get along is a stretch.

Accepted into the womyn’s enclave, Emma, who has heretofore been an absolute angel goes into feral-teenage mode and Miranda is sneered at by her stepsister Jen who runs the show. Miranda is just a shade too trophy-wife for everyone and her skills are limited to the somewhat indulgent ‘primate-communication-specialist’. But soon, Miranda smells a rat in the womyn-haven.

There are tense acts of violence and an unfolding of many sad tales of women’s oppression at the hands of men. Though set up like a Cormac-McCarthy-meets-Handmaid’s-Tale this is no literary tour-de-force. The surprises of the denouement greet the reader a mile off and it is not an adventure-strewn nail-biter. But still, the concepts introduced by Ms Dalcher about humanity and its lust for power and its struggle to organise properly are profound. Femlandia serves up an ending in the tradition of Shirley Jackson – not nicey-nice at all.

I am sure book groups from age 14+ will revel in the amount of discussion they will get from this book. For that reason alone, you should put it on your purchase orders. But be warned, it’s not about feminism, it’s about the human ability to create a mess and not clean it up. Thanks to NetGalley UK and HarperCollins eARC. It was a frustratingly enjoyable read that I finished in a single sitting.

Madam

by Phoebe Wynne

Twenty-six year-old Classicist Rose Christie has the auspicious honour of being the first external hire to the elite Caldonbrae Hall in over a decade. The select girls’ school is top of the league tables; its pupils come from the wealthiest and highest-ranking families. Nicknamed Hope after its Victorian founder, Rose soon begins to feel the irony of the moniker. Gothic in appearance, the school looms over the bleak North Sea and down on its Scottish neighbours. Rose soon gets the creeps from the Common Room’s secretive and heavy atmosphere and feels haunted by her predecessor. She becomes the victim of a girl’s false accusation. The school upgrades the care of Rose’s ailing mother, a fact that Rose discovers third hand. When Hope life begins to pinch, Rose finds that the ties that bind her to Caldonbrae are deep, strong and weird. And they’re not letting go.

I do love Gothic! If you are a fan of books like Rebecca, Jane Eyre, All my secrets or Century then you will feel right at home. Phoebe Wynne follows the tradition of big imposing architecture with hidden corners and repressed emotions in grand form. You can tell she’s a Gothic fan, too, and her enjoyment comes through the story. This title falls in that crossover territory of YA and Adult fiction but shouldn’t let anyone down. The themes are dark but not disturbing (too much) and it shouldn’t give you nightmares, maybe only duskfoals. (There’s a particular scene with the unctuous Head of History – no pun intended – that I shall not soon forget!)

For all the deftness in handling the genre, I kept wishing the author would get on with the foretold climax. It was pretty clear what was going on at the school, but, like a plotline in Eastenders it went on and on. I found it difficult to believe that Rose wouldn’t have had her guard up after the snubbing and abuse she receives from day one by both staff and pupils. But, her description is so deliciously dark that I enjoyed it. She describes the Juniors as having the ‘energy of a hot hairdryer’, ‘dark eyes like bullets’ and the ‘power of Caldonbrae Hall pinned Rose against its walls, choking her own courage.’ Loved it.

The reader is left little clues as to the real purpose of Hope Hall (is this a nod in the direction of Rose’s sur-namesake?) The fathers are the ones who the girls talk about and who take the reins of their daughters’ education while mothers are arranging chrysanthemums, overdoing it on the cocktails, and planning trips to the Opera. Many of the mothers (and indeed the staff) are old girls, we discover, its dark legacy spanning generations. The male members of staff are held in higher regard and referred to as ‘Sir’ while the women must hold the awkward honorific of ‘Madam’. In one interaction, the girls pepper Rose with question after question rifling off so many ‘Madam’ this and ‘Madam’ that that it reminded me of a Fast Show sketch (Suit you Sir).

The female characters do draw the short straw in the book. With few exceptions, they are sniping, backbiting automatons without a brain cell between them. The staff exact terrible punishments on the girls and are complicit in events that would wither the Sisterhood. Even Rose’s mum, the Feminist, loses her religion, as it were, and suggests Rose might like to be looked after for the rest of her life. I found Rose’s Classics lessons a thing to look forward to. I enjoyed the choices that the author made. The strong women from Greek and Roman ancient texts. This summer I listened to Emily Wilson’s translation of the Odyssey which was a revelation. Madam was right in step and I am now motivated to seek out the Classics and read them in a more feminist way.

I made lots of notes while reading the book, there’s much to enjoy. The writing is expertly handled and the Gothic-ness is spot on. The sense of place was strong, I really got the ‘you’re not welcome here’ vibe coming from the Scottish, and I agreed with them. Even though it takes Rose quite a long time to realise her job is indeed a curse, she is plucky and stalwart and victim of circumstance wrought upon her. Rose finds her courage and becomes the master of her own destiny though marred by the hand of the gods.

An architecture of hope

by Yvonne Jewkes

Yvonne Jewkes’s memoir is a glorious woven recollection of the life challenges that have pushed her to the brink of hopelessness and her quest for professional excellence that has kept her moving forward. Her writing is light as the embroidery on a Georgian gown but sturdy as a whalebone corset.
The leading expert in rehabilitative prison design and consultant on many prison projects around the world, Yvonne agrees to fund her partner’s ambitious plan of to renovate their elegant but neglected Cheltenham townhouse. Like drawing the Lovers card and then the Tower in a tarot reading, their plan (and house) begin to crumble. Yvonne ends up living alone in the one liveable room contemplating life, hope and home.
The book is written with deftness and depth. It’s a quick read packes with humour, dramatic tension, insight and philosophy. She helps the reader consider the nature of prisons, not only the bones of them, but the bones within them. Jewkes presents the possiblities of prison and public space design as agents of hope and healing and makes a good case for us all to take responsiblity for better planning decisions.
There is a strong philosophical thread throughout the book on the meaning of home and freedom. Is home where we buy, where we hang our hat or can we find a home where we are locked in? In the end, Jewkes finds a universal homely metaphor in the way the sun catches through a perfectly flawed window that projects itself on the perfectly flawed wall. Home is as ephemeral as hope.

I bought this book from bookshop.org

Invisible kitties

by Yu Yoyo, translated by Jeremy Tiang

A married couple in a high-rise flat get a cat. Over the next sixty short chapters follows a trippy, slightly dippy, treatise of cat appreciation. It is charming and so unusual that it is difficult to let go.

The author uses magical realism to chronicle the life of humans’ least likely friend. The text weaves itself cat-like then veers off wildly before coming bang down to earth. The effect is like a guided meditation you are reluctant to join. Lulled in by the soothing tones and spare prose, you suspend your disbelief that you are falling for this malarkey and are soon ‘in the zone’ and loving it.

Yu Yoyo puts her poets’ pen to work with close observations and word pictures. The explanations of cat behaviour are more art than science, but they give you pause. Besotted and suffering like a cat-loving Kahlil Gibran she also dips her toe into speculative physics the way Richard Bach did with ‘Jonathan Livingston Seagull’ or another new age cult book ‘The Celestine Prophecy’ by James Redfield. None have cats in them, but Yu Yoyo’s book shares their cult star quality. Translator Jeremy Tiang has pulled a blinder because the language, the feel and the sensitivity are poetry in motion.

The book is a definite hit for cat lovers, and while not a user’s guide, gives a deep insight into these mysterious creatures. I once read ‘The secret life of cows’ by Rosamund Young which elicited the same magical appreciation for an overlooked animal friend. Thanks to NetGalleyUK and Fourth Estate for the eARC.

The Great Belonging by Warona Jay

Relebogile Naledi Mpho Moruakgomo writes a red-hot play that can’t make it out of the rejection pile. Naledi assumes her non-white sounding name might be the reason. Fate sends her Hugo Lawrence Smith, an unfulfilled law student on the wrong career path. Relaunching Naledi’s play under Hugo’s beiger name, the London Theatre scene responds with offers, gushes of praise and honours. Naledi and Hugo have set their sights on exposing the innate racism and bias of the arts world, but there’s something even more rotten at work and their plan veers in another direction.

Naledi’s character confused me at first. I couldn’t fathom how a creator could give up her ‘baby’ to a stranger and continue with the ruse long after it had served its purpose. It is this frustration with Eddie’s self-deprecating, unlucky-in-love, unlucky-in-work character that kicked me onto the right path. Her humanity has been amped up to mythic level and those never end well. But they do make for quite a tale. Hugo was the typical privileged nepo winner of our times, born into privilege and loth to let it go.

Warona Jay writes with the intuition of a seasoned storyteller. She writes with wit and humour and casts a dry eye on relationships. Her characters are deep and unpredictable. The story of starving for your art is rendered in a very beguiling way. This is a story of relinquishing your rights to something because you love it and a very important message for the century. If you liked Meg Wolitzer’s ‘The Wife’ or ‘Queenie’ by Candice Carty-Williams, this will be a fun read. Warona Jay has shown she’s got the writing chops and I will be on the lookout for her next title.

Thanks to NetGalleyUK and  Footnote for the eARC.

William

by Mason Coile

Lily and Henry are a techpreneur couple living in an upmarket upstate college town in America. The house, a pretty Victorian pile, has been rigged with the latest gimmickry so that every opening and closing and environmental pulse is voice-controlled by the couple. As in the best of horror, there is something icky living in the attic. That is William. And his litter of mechanical beings. When Lily’s friends Paige and Davis appear at the Victorian techie fortress, the robots get restless.

Henry, a slave to his own anxieties including agoraphobia, has created William out of spare parts kicking around his makeshift lab. William is truly horrible to look at – a head and torso with arms only stretched in balloon skin and grunge-wear – but has a liking for Faust and local radio and a distaste for Lily and the baby she is expecting. Don’t worry, Lily, what’s the first law of robotics?

Mason Coile knocks the stuffing out of  the creepy doll genre with an injection of visceral adjectives and good old-fashioned human failings. There is a lot of wetness and slipping around and robots’ fibres seem more like bundles of nerves. This is definitely an AI cautionary tale that packs a punch. I really enjoyed the social media teaser with William’s suitably foreboding voice, so kudos to your team. A twist at the end that will creep you out will send you double-checking where you’ve put the keys at night. I didn’t see it coming, you might, but I re-read it after I knew and enjoyed the tale just as much on second reading.

Thanks to Michael Joseph and NetGalleyUK for the eARC. It was enjoyable and cathartic to read during my recent protracted house move. Happy Halloween everyone.

Two sides to every murder

by Danielle Valentine

In upstate New York, murder makes a comeback when a witch who’s a dab hand with a bow and arrow rekindles their killing spree after a 16-year break. As the teens run for sanctuary in the deep, dark woods, they’re picked off by the unknown assailant while finding their truth and their true love.

The central character is Olivia, whose high achieving sister is coming home to open a coworking space at the family-owned, eerily named Camp Lost Lake. Thanks to a school ancestry project, Olivia is reeling from the results of the DNA test that throws doubt on her dad. Add to this the streetwise Reagan who beats a trail to the camp after a true crime podcast who names her mother as the witch sniper in the woods. Reagan must clear her mother’s name at any cost. All characters come to life and the structure is fast and faultless.

With this love letter to the teen slasher genre, Danielle Valentine has masterfully created a believable, tense atmosphere that is irresistibly terrifying. Even with a large character list and a very crucial twisty backstory, the author proves to be the real witch by weaving her magic so that the reader will ‘quiver’ in fear when trouble comes ‘nocking.’ The expertly crafted chaos is amped up to the max and then brought to a successful conclusion, with a very clever twist the reader won’t see coming.

Thanks to NetGalleyUK and Penguin Random House Children’s for the eARC

The coin

by Yasmin Zaher

The coin is an energetic and brazen novel that chronicles a few months in the life of a Palestinian woman who has emigrated to the USA. The woman, though benefiting from a wealthy trust fund allowance, accepts a job from a friend teaching English to middle school boys in New York City. What follows is a first-person picaresque and jarring account of her journey toward self-discovery and acceptance.

The main character is certainly under pressure. She addresses the reader directly giving a feel of intimacy and collusion. She describes to us a crippling cleaning regime in which she reviles then celebrates her body as it is freed from dirt. The narrative settles into an unsettling allegory of opposites. Belonging and statelessness, wealth and poverty, cleanliness and filth, self-awareness and self-loathing are among the themes. The complex layering of this woman’s New York life over her origins in Palestine creates a very relevant human exploration of the current geopolitical landscape. The eponymous coin is a childhood accident that exists both in her mind and her body. There are no absolutes in this novel, although amid the pain you will find the absolute joy of connecting with another.

The cast of characters are presented warts-and-all, flawed but likeable, and serve to pull the plot forward. There is a good bit of humour to balance the uncomfortable descent of a woman making bad choices. This is a bold work showing off superb storytelling. The author styles her canvas with hyper-realistic brushwork creating a Jenny Saville-type portrait. The result is a book that is at once beautiful, mad, humane, animal and unputdownable. The ultimate result is the empathic dread of taking pleasure in watching a car crash, but one choreographed by a gifted writer.

If you like to be pushed and pummelled by a story as I do, this is the book for you. Thanks to Footnote and NetGalleyUK for the eArc.

Sweet dreams: Twisted Reflections Bk. 1

By J.K. Webb

A desperate, angry and tired doctor is lost in his dreams, specifically, his violent nightmares. These troubling half-finished journeys to the land of Morpheus involve a house on a wealthy cul-de-sac. The recurring dream and his role in it offer a degree of relief – until they don’t.

Sweet dreams offers the reader an ironic glimpse into the tragic mind of a man on the edge. The author uses clipped sentences and intricate detail to squeeze every bit of tension out of the action. The use of darkness and light in the description and plot shows us just how confusing this man’s life is as he navigates shadows and is paralysed by any incoming bright light. The doctor’s manifested internal dialogue adds to the disturbing suspense J.K. Webb obviously specialises in.

The tale summoned the psychological unrest of Steven King and the foreboding formality of Edgar Allan Poe. It was a short read, but one that has left a feeling of dread and horror at how bad dreams can lead to bad choices. If Twisted Reflections rises up for Book 2, reader, lock your doors and your cellars. Thanks to the author for asking for an honest review.

Lies and weddings

by Kevin Kwan

It begins with a killing. But hold on, Kevin ‘Crazy Rich Asians’ Kwan hasn’t lost it, he proceeds to slay in his latest novel of the lives and loves of the super rich.

Eden Tong, a capable NHS doctor, lives with her father in the shadow (actually in the garden) of their lifelong friends the aristocratic Greshams. Led by bumbling Brit Lord Greshamsbury and his formidable wife Lady Arabella (née Leung), all seems fine until their only son and heir announces his undying love for the non-U Eden. The family goes into meltdown after a volcano disrupts their daughter’s massive wedding and ruins Lady Arabella’s showcase Hawaiian resort. Things truly fall apart as family secrets, bad actors, penury and loss of status threaten an end to the ancient house of Gresham. 

Like a display case in Tiffany’s, the dramatis personae are opulent and sparkling. Kevin Kwan doesn’t short the reader on details, offering educational pedigrees for each character so that we, too, can get our snob on. Each carries a chance for redemption but it hurts so good to revel in the bad. (I imagined uber-matriarch Lady Gresham in a pointy black hat clutching a poisoned apple when she appeared). The book has lots of old money and new money, but everyone’s got money. Even the weird Guru character turns out to be landed gentry of the DAR type. There’s lots of delicious name-dropping too so take notes for googling later. The mystery of that killing is woven in like a golden strand from a Persian rug.

‘Lies and weddings’ is a glorious slice of escapism for our paper plate lives. A peek into the problems of the super-rich (they do it so you don’t have to) is immense fun. The cast is diverse and their perils are cathartic. Kevin Kwan has also included a subtext of eco-responsibility that keeps the story relevant with a moral undertone amid the excess. I found this to be the best thing I read over Spring break. The fantasy of wealth and greed was balanced against the trials and tribulations that are all too human and recognisable. 

Thanks to NetGalleyUK and Random House, Cornerstone for the eARC.