BOOK REVIEWS

Never Forgive You is listed as a suspense thriller and it certainly is, but it’s much more than that. The author has assembled quite a large group of characters in her French setting and also uses two different points of view to tell her story – devices which can be quite challenging when trying to hold the reader’s attention. In this instance, they not only work admirably but, in my opinion, enhance the tension as we see events through two differing interpretations.
It’s a story of murder and revenge, served stone cold, and is teased out with nail-biting anticipation. I believed I had pinpointed the perpetrator early on but a clever little nudge from the author sent me off in a different direction before the whole thing was brought to a satisfying conclusion.
This is the second book I have read by Hilly Barmby and will definitely be seeking out more.

Never Forgive You
Hilly Barmby

The Dark Wives
Ann Cleeves

I’m a long time fan of the vera Stanhope novels, having read them all and watched all of the televised episodes, so I was more than pleased to be offered the opportunity of an ARC of The Dark Wives. As usual, there is murder involved along with a missing person/suspect, set against the background of Rosebank, a home for troubled teens. Vera, Joe and Charlie are hot on the chase, accompanied by a new team member, Rosie, who replaces the late lamented Holly.
Unusually, there is a scratchy friction running through the writing. Joe resents any attention given by Vera to Rosie, Rosie is critical of Vera and Vera herself shows hitherto unseen flashes of ‘spiteful joy’. 
The plot itself jogs along quite nicely with a good selection of suspects to get the reader pondering. Unfortunately, the ending is very non-Vera in that she has multiple conversations with people, none of which the reader is privy to; she also keeps her team in the dark about her investigations and the result is a deus ex machina followed by quite a few chapters of weighty exposition. I won’t comment further on that to avoid spoilers.
All in all, I was left a bit disappointed and, in a sense, cheated. We’re aren’t given the opportunity to admire the brilliance of Vera’s deductions as she keeps her cards so close to her ample chest. Nonetheless, I will look forward to Vera’s next adventure and hope the team have put their playground squabbling behind them.

I feel like I know Max Craigie, having read and enjoyed the series since the first book and The Devil You Know is no exception. Neil Lancaster’s firsthand knowledge of Scottish policing shines through on every page, as does the meticulous research he does in related areas.
Once again, Max and the team are pitting their wits not only against the rapidly diminishing Hardie family but also against a powerful, shadowy figure who is bent on covering up past crimes, at any cost.
The plot moves smoothly, nicely balanced between tension and lighter moments as it reaches a satisfactory conclusion.
I have one small niggle (not that it’s going to deprive Lancaster of a well-earned five stars) and it’s that the character of Ross is heading a little too much in the direction of becoming a caricature. At times, it felt as though he had Tourettes and it diminished him to some extent.
All in all, though, a very enjoyable and satisfying read and I look forward to the next one.
I was given an ARC of this book in return for an honest review. All opinions are mt own.   

The Devil You Know
Neil Lancaster

Think Twice
Harlan Coben

Think Twice has quite a complicated plot (not unusual for Harlan Coben) and sees the return of Myron Bolivar, a solid, likeable character. The story line is well teased out and there are suitably placed twists and turns to keep the tension high. Having said that, however, there are too many repetitive explanations of the relationships between Myron and one of the suspects and also between Myron and his son which only serve to detract from the enjoyment of the story. The highly unlikeable, arrogant and near-psychotic Win also makes too many appearances for my liking, usually to supply a deus ex machine to move the plot along or to perform an act of gratuitous cruelty. As always, Coben leaves me part-entertained and part frustrated.
I received an advance copy of this book in return for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

So, we start off with Iris and Gabriel.
Gabriel is a doctor, who discovered a young man who’d fallen off a cliff and subsequently died. Gabriel (a doctor, remember?) is so traumatised by this that he has to take months off work, cease sexual relationships with his wife, Iris, and begin to brood for England.
Iris doesn’t have too much to worry about (except for the whingeing Gabriel) but wait for it.
Along comes Laure, an old friend and unexpected houseguest.
Laure has just discovered that her husband, Pierre, had a secret child some years ago so, instead of staying home in Paris and sorting it out, she dumps herself on Gabriel and Iris for three weeks and talks incessantly about herself as well wearing Iris’s clothes and initially sleeping in her bed. Obviously so traumatised (are you seeing a pattern here?) that she couldn’t pack a suitcase before she left home.
So now Iris has something to worry about/be irked by.
Then we have Hugh and Esme, a seemingly normal couple, expecting their first baby. At first, they seem refreshingly normal, which is great. Don’t take your eye off them, though. You just know by now they have trauma on the way.
Finally, there’s Joseph, dark, brooding and a bit of a moveable feast.
It’s a slow, unsettling start and none of the characters is likeable. So much time is spent navel-gazing, I was expecting it to become a national sport. I am reliably informed, by other reviewers, that it has a brilliant ending where everything is cleverly tied together. I will never know because, try as I really did, I could not bring myself to carry on with these people and their First World problems.

The Guest
B A Paris

Courier
Zoe Rosi

I hesitated over reading this book. Although the premise sounded good, I was a bit put off by the garish, amateurish cover. After reading a couple of very positive reviews, however, I took the plunge, as it was on KU. 
I wish I hadn’t bothered.
The protagonist is seriously mentally disturbed for no good reason, except for passing references to an unhappy childhood.
He kills a man he doesn’t know for no good reason other than he hears him shout at his wife and bully his daughter. The murder is carried out with consummate ease, the tools he needs implausibly available to him, and the whole thing is carried out with a complete lack of tension from the author. 
To go on would be to create spoilers. Suffice to say, the whole book is a series of events that stretch credulity to breaking point. The denouement, when it limps along, is laughable.
Judging by the amount of five star reviews, I’m sure there’s an audience somewhere for this kind of flummery. Unfortunately, I’m not part of it.

I came across Paul Cleave’s books by accident and, having read and enjoyed two of his latest works, decided to go back and read his oeuvre from the beginning. I won’t lie. It’s been challenging. The early writing is not only more raw than what came later (only to be expected) but is brutal in its approach to the damage man can inflict on his fellows. I started off with The Cleaner, a tale told in the first person by a serial killer and found it a solid three stars, which encouraged me to try Joe Victim, the sequel. I got about a third the way through that one before abandoning it and moving on to other authors. There’s only so much of Cleave’s early work you can take at one time.
Anyway, time passed and I downloaded Cemetery Lake, written in 2013 and, again, set in Christchurch, New Zealand. I don’t know what Cleave’s beef with Christchurch is but he hasn’t got a good word to say about it or its denizens. Our main character – definitely not a hero and he’s got a hill to climb before he could even be considered as an anti-hero* – Theodore Tate is an ex-cop, now a PI, with a tragic and tangled past. (Haven’t they all?)
Anyway the plot involves serial murders committed over the last two years for which, inexplicably, Tate feels responsible, due to his past failings. He takes on the investigation, stealing evidence, breaking and entering, hiding more evidence and generally hindering the police in a multitude of ways. Oh yes, and he’s a murderer, as well. *See what I mean?
The best (or worst) is yet to come. The story hinges on bodies being buried, dug up again, thrown in a lake and different bodies interred in their place. It them morphs into corpses being dug up by our MC and another character as revenge on one another. There were so many open graves and movable corpses  that I had to have a little lie-down halfway through the book to settle my nerves.
Added to this, there was an enormous amount of angst-ridden stream of consciousness and navel gazing from Tate, not to mention the fact he was consistently covered in mud, wood or both and nobody seemed to notice. Perhaps it’s the norm in Christchurch.
The resolution is a bit of a stretch but, in this overblown, operatic story, it’s just a relief to get to the end of it. Will I read another of Paul Cleave’s novels? You bet I will.

Cemetery Lake
Paul Cleave

Bare Books Flash Fiction Anthology III
Ed: Daizi Rae

In this, the third anthology of flash fiction stories from the Bare Books Podcast, the door has once again been opened to experienced indie authors and complete beginners alike. It is a measure of the podcast’s success that the hosts, Daizi Rae and April Berry, can inspire listeners to pick up a pen (or open Word) for the first time and craft a story from the prompt given.
The book is, perforce, a bit of a lucky dip, where the reader is not quite sure what the next story will be like. Some of the contributions from first-timers stand out like a sore thumb (in a good way) with a lack of structure which is well compensated for by the raw honesty of the writing.  More than once, I felt a tug of emotion at the way they laid their lives bare. It is to be hoped that this first experience of writing will lead them into rewarding new pastures.
I particularly enjoyed Gip, a retelling of the Three Little Pigs that not only made me laugh but also gave me occasion to reflect on the hidden message contained therein. The Day Christmas a
Was Cancelled has a sparkling wit laced with humour and The Tale of William Pinter was very cleverly worked.
This book deserves to be read and the aims of the Bare Books Podcast supported and, for that reason, I’m awarding it five stars

There are plot holes in this novel you could drive a tractor through. There are leaps of faith that even the most devout of believers could manage to swallow. A lot of the reviews I have read about this book acknowledge this, although maybe not quite so bluntly. BUT – then they go on to say, “I know, but it’s Harlan Coben”. As though that makes it all right. It doesn’t.
Yes, the prose flows easily and Coben keeps his finger on the plot, such as it is. No way on God’s green earth, however, am I going to accept a book as (frankly) daft as this just because the author is well known and has come to the stage in his writing when he thinks he can throw any number of dramatic bits of nonsense into the plot and his readers will just gloss over them because of the name on the book cover.
Must do better. 0/5

I Will Find You
Harlan Coben

Alibi
Lynda La Plante

Lynda La Plante has long been one of my favourite writers, starting with Widows and the creation of the inimitable Dolly Rawlins, later played to perfection by Ann Mitchell in the television series. I also loved the Prime Suspect series, centring round Jane Dennison. La Plante was brilliant at writing strong female characters, whatever side of the law they might be on.
For a while, for some reason, I didn’t read any of her later books but, recently, I downloaded a copy of Alibi, looking forward to a trip down memory lane, enjoying her fluid writing style. 
What a shocker.
The first murder victim (I know there has to be one) was a young woman who worked as a masseuse and part-time prostitute. The details of how she was tortured and killed (and none were spared) were horrific, verging on pornographic. I have a pretty strong stomach where blood and gore are concerned but this genuinely sickened me, mainly because it was so unnecessary.
There are still women police officers in the story but no longer are they decisive decision takers but loyal, hard-working second-in-command to male officers. Fair enough, there have to be subordinates and it probably reflects real life, but these characters pale into insignificance against the graphic murder descriptions which are returned to more than once.
I’m probably about a third the way through this book and maybe Ms La Plante redeems herself (at least, in my eyes) later in the book but I’m afraid I’ll never know because I’ve just deleted it from my Kindle app. (That’s £4.99 down the drain)
I would have abandoned this book whoever had written it, but somehow, I find it even more upsetting that it’s a woman writing in this way about another woman. At what point did murder-mystery writing take this salacious turn and why are readers subscribing to it (judging by the sales ratings). I, for one, will be very careful to scrutinise books very carefully in future to avoid gratuitous violence to women.
Rant over. 

Jen’s back and she’s not having too good a time of it. She’s struggling with the plot of her latest book and Ravenous Readers, her bookshop, is in danger of closure.
On the bright side though, her relationship with Eric is blossoming and she and Savannah, her dog, have a really close bond. 
So, shored up by boyfriend and dog, it’s fairly safe to assume that our redoubtable Jen can probably muddle her way through these problems.
And then she’s hit with a double whammy. The much-needed money that comes in regularly to keep the shop afloat ceases when the company that granted it goes bankrupt. Added to that, a new bookshop is about to open, selling secondhand books which will severely hit her financially.
t transpires that Maura, the would-be owner of the new shop, has a personal grudge against Jen and refuses to listen to reason, determined as she is to ruin Jen.
So when Maura is found dead with Jen standing over her, Detective Havermeyer is practically rubbing her hands in glee at the prospect of finally being able to pin a murder on Jen.
In this, the fourth in the Bookstore series, our Jen is a little more mature than previously, has grown a little in self-confidence but is still as headstrong and impetuous as ever.  As always, there are red herrings galore as Jen follows her instincts and drops herself in hot water more than once. It’s an engaging, good clean read. Highly recommended.

I

A Cover for Murder
Sue Minix

Uphill, Downhill, Over, Out
Laura Lyndhurst

Uphill, Downhill, Over, Out is the sixth novel in the Criminal Conversations series, a very closely entwined set of books that lays bare the bones of a powerful dynasty, one which grew from humble beginnings and soared to incredible heights, driven by the unique characteristics of each generation.
I am a passionate believer in William Blake’s theory on the inherent good and evil that resides in each and every one of us. Criminal Conversations takes this concept and runs with it, generation after generation. Each and every character is multi-faceted and the twists and turns are endless, some truly shocking and others so surprising that the reader is forced to change their opinion, sometimes more than once in the same chapter. 
Other reviewers have dwelt on the breathtaking descriptions of the Greek island, the intensive and impressive research that has gone into these novels and I heartily concur with all of it but, to me, this is character study under a scalpel with every cut deep and incisive.
I am aware that this review is less about Uphill, Downhill, Over, Out and more about Criminal Conversations as a whole but that’s the way it has to be. From the very moment when Mags and Teddy met in Fairytales Don’t Come True, the fates of all the characters in these books was pre-ordained. I would urge any potential reader to ‘begin at the beginning’ and buckle up for a ride, the like of which you have never been on before.
Me, I’m hoping that one day there’ll be a seventh novel because there’s still a whiff of danger in the air on that Greek island. Highly recommended.

In Reliance, Paul McMurrough has created that unusual thing – a character-driven dystopian novel. Yes, the science is there – an eruption on the sun causes Earth to lose all power – presented with admirable clarity through the efforts of Professor Martin Monroe to make the powers-that-be understand the danger the world faces.
When that danger becomes fact and all electricity is lost is where this book goes from strength to strength.  
From the first almost-prosaic death caused by the power cut, McMurrough leads us day by day through the growing horror of a collapsing civilisation, using a group of very different characters as mouthpieces, each one with a distinctive set of values and morals. 
The frustration of the professor, the determination of a government official to do the right thing against insurmountable odds, the prison officer faced with a decision no one should ever have to take (no spoilers but there is some very powerful writing here) – all these set against the frighteningly fast disintegration of civilisation as horror piles on horror.
The tension and the pace never falter . There are heart-stopping moments in this book but there are also smaller moments where the better part of humanity is allowed to shine through, if only briefly.  The ending is ambiguous, an open invitation to carry on with the next book in this series, which I certainly will be doing. A solid five stars and highly recommended. 

Reliance
Paul McMurrough

Flicker
Cameron Trost

Flicker is a quick easy read, set in a dystopian future where the eponymous anti-hero wages his own war against the Overclass, a draconian government and the ever-present drones that hover in the sky, relentlessly searching for him. He’s an arsonist, or maybe a pyromaniac – he’s not big on labels – accompanied by Flame, a female of the same persuasion. The whole thing rolls along quite logically with lots of chases and near-escapes, although I had to check that it wasn’t YA after a few dialogue passages.  Where Trost excels is in his descriptions of Flicker’s feelings and the effect fire has upon him. To me, this lifted a nice-enough story into four stars and I look forward to reading more of his work. . 

Best Served Cold is a blueprint for how a slow-burn psychological thriller should be written. It opens with Lily, our protagonist, at the launch for her latest children’s book. She’s a little nervous but she’s been here before and her career as an illustrator is on its way to be a great success. So we get an inkling of her character, told in the first person, before the first off-key notes begin to sound in her life. 
Over the first section of the book, we’re introduced to Alice, Lily’s longtime friend, and Rose, a ‘number one fan’ of Lily’s who somehow also becomes a friend. So successfully does Ms Barmby create the dynamic between these three women, that I found myself first distrusting one and then the other and then circling back to reassure myself I was reading too much into events.
Simultaneously, we learn more of Lily’s background and the reason she has a deep distrust of men.
And then, into the mix comes Jack, the perfect person to restore Lily’s faith iand enable her to put the past behind her. Or is he? Are any of the women what they appear to be? Because strange things begin to happen around Lily and the book darkens and twists towards a dramatic conclusion.
Ms Barmby balances a skilful plot with excellent characterisation, both of which lift this book above its contemporaries. A very well deserved five stars and highly recommended.

Best Served Cold
Hilly Barmby

Millie’s Escape
Marcia Clayton

Millie’s Escape, the latest in Marcia Clayton’s Hartford Manor series, introduces two new characters. Following the death of their mother, ifteen-year-old Millie and her little brother Jonathan are forced to leave their home and trek across the snow-covered Devon countryside in search of long lost relatives in Hartford. Not only do they face a perilous journey with little money or food but they also have to evade the wrath of a wealthy woman who was scorned and betrayed and whose deceased husband was Millie and Jonathan’s father. Falsely accused of theft, Millie is in fear of imprisonment if not the loss of her life.
As a contrast to this grim tale, the denizens of Hartford are preparing for Christmas, with change in the air and a number of surprises as decisions are taken for the future. Ms Clayton has done her usual excellent job of bringing old customs to life in a realistic way. I especially enjoyed these sections and recognised some of the things that were traditional in my own childhood in Northern Ireland. 
As always, I was left with a feeling that I had been on a visit with old friends. If you have not yet read the Hartford Manor series, I can strongly recommend them as your next historical adventure.

The Future of Our House, the fifth in the Criminal Conversations series, moves into the near future as it follows the fortunes of the third generation of the Dukakis du Cain dynasty. After the emotional introspection of the previous novel, Innocent, Guilty, this one fairly explodes on to the page. 
Gregory and Alectrona are twins, children of Miles and Katie and as yet unaware of the terrible secret their parents have kept hidden from them for years. They have gilded careers, Gregory as a Formula One racing driver in the team created by his father and Alectrona as a lawyer, known for both her cool incisiveness and her daring exploits in the courtroom.
But the Dukakis du Cain family has had a chequered history and chickens have a habit of coming home to roost. Gregory and Alectrona are flawed and readers of the series so far will know why. (Trying not to reveal any spoilers) Gregory is physically handicapped, with one leg shorter than the other while Alectrona verges on the psychopathic, feeling no emotions or love for anyone apart from her parents and brother. Living within her are remnants of a collective consciousness that thirsts to remedy past wrongdoings.
The book is one of two halves as we follow Gregory around the world with the Formula One Team and observe Alectrona in her penthouse where she lives alone with her canine companion, Cerberus. There is more than one sharp-intake-of breath moment and questions of morality that, to me, defy resolution.
As the penultimate book in the Criminal Conversations series, The Future of Our House ends on a note that ensures the final book – Uphill, Downhill, Over, Out – is a MUST read. Highly recommended.

The Future of Our House
Laura Lyndhurst

Innocent, Guilty
Laura Lyndhurst

Innocent, Guilty begins with Katie and Miles back in England, hoping for peace and semi-obscurity to enjoy their lives together. They harbour a dark secret and not everyone is pleased for them but, largely through Katie’s iron determination, an acceptance of a kind is reached.
Life has a way of throwing obstacles in one’s path, however, and Katie and Miles find themselves facing a moral dilemma while her beloved ‘aunts’, Celia and Laura are facing life changing problems of their own.
And so the stage is set for another of Laura Lyndhurst’s cerebral stories. This one is a slow burner, more introspective than the earlier books with time given for the reader to fully appreciate the events that are wracking her characters’ lives. 
As always in these tales, the past plays a large part in the decisions taken and, to this reader, Innocent, Guilty is the novel where Katie and Miles fully mature and accept the hand fate has dealt them, albeit in an unusual and courageous way.
Finally, Innocent, Guilty is not a stand-alone – if you’re new to Ms Lyndhurst’s work, please begin your journey with Fairytales Don’t Come True in order to fully appreciate the incredibly tangled web the author has created.
Highly recommended.

Ever since I first became aware of S A Cosby, I have looked forward to each new novel. Razorblade Tears had a raw, rough energy that enthralled me. His characters were drawn in, warts and all, and I was pulled into his world of the Deep South.
Only Sinners Bleed is also set in that world and the main character, Titus Crown has his soul laid bare for the reader. As the sheriff of Charon, he is presented with an horrific case of multiple child abuse and murders. His task is made harder because he is a black man in an area where the white residents still revere the days of the Confederacy and the black preachers are fired up to protect their civil rights. As well as trying to solve the gruesome crimes escalating around him, Crown also has to deal with resentment and prejudice from both black and white citizens.
It’s a hard book to review because there are so many different elements competing for attention that they actually have the reverse effect. Crown is much given to rumination, dwelling on the past and recalling wise advice from his late mother and ex colleagues. These episodes come randomly, sometimes inserted at a time when the main hunt for the killer was just heating up. For me, Crown was carrying just too much angst. 
There are some really nice descriptive passages, at times reminiscent of James Lee Burke, and a sub plot that rumbles along until it becomes relevant at a later time. Running through all this background noise, is a hard=edged murder story which taxes Crown to the limit as the bodies pile up. 
I felt a little like I’d eaten too many chocolates by the time I came to the end of the story – I’d enjoyed it a lot but wished there hadn’t been so much of it. There was such an abundance of characters that, by the time the murderer was revealed, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever heard of him before.
It’s complicated, thought-provoking and, at times, verges on great literature. But I missed the raw simplicity of Cosby’s earlier books.

All The Sinners Bleed
SA Cosby

A Chapter on Murder
Sue Minix

Jen Dawson is back, mired in another murder investigation in spite of her best resolutions – and warning from the local police officers – to stay out of it. But her friend, Marcus, is accused of a murder Jen knows he would never have committed, so what else can she do but start asking questions of the residents of Middleton in a bid to clear his name. As usual, Sue Minix has provided a rich mix of characters and red herrings, against which Jen forges her way towards a resolution. Fearless and impetuous, accompanied by the faithful Savannah, can Jen save Marcus from a grim incarceration. Read it and see. You won’t be disappointed.
I was given an advance reader copy of this book in return for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

Bad Dreams is a ghost story, but not in the conventional sense. Lucy is dead but, with the help of the ultra annoying Grief family, finds herself wandering the streets, homes and bedrooms of her village. She watches as her husband and children build a new life for themselves, torn between grief that she’s not there but also love for the resilience and strength they’re finding within themselves. As Lucy wanders the village, over a great number of years, different locations evoke memories of days gone by and we learn her story, from a young girl to the day of the freak accident that ended her life.
This format is not an easy one to pull off but Amanda Sheridan makes a brilliant job of it, mixing sadness and reflection with humour and wit. There are laugh out loud moments and reach-for-a-hanky moments. The ending is bittersweet, as it has to be, but at the same time, it leaves a little glow of satisfaction. Although Bad Dreams stands on its own feet, I feel it is better to have read Rapid Eye Movement first and, better yet, follow that up with The Dreaming and Dream Catcher. All three books are fast=paced thrillers with a truly unique premise that you won’t have read before. Bad Dreams is a sweetly sad epilogue to all three. Highly recommended.

Bad Dreams –
Lucy’s Story
Amanda Sheridan

The List of Suspicious Things
Jennie Godfrey

The List of Suspicious Things is my book of the year so far and it will take some beating. The central characters, Miv and Sharon, set out on a patently absurd quest to catch the Yorkshire Ripper. We know they won’t but their tangled reasoning appears so logical to them that we are carried along with them. They are beautiful counterpoints to one another – Miv, instigator of the harebrained schemes in an effort to stop her family from leaving Yorkshire, and Sharon, beautiful, well-off, more stable than Miv but intensely loyal to her.
It’s a densely populated book with many interwoven issues – racism, sexism, brutality –  all deftly handled by the author as the tension slowly builds towards a heartrending conclusion.
I was supplied with an ARC in return for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

Linwood Barclay has been a firm favourite of mine ever since I read his first novel. Having said that, I felt that the last couple of offerings had gone off the boil a bit, so I was unsure if I would like The Lie Maker. I’m happy to report that, for me, Barclay is back on top form with this intricately woven tale of murderous revenge. The plot may be a bit strained towards the end but, because it is done in the interests of a really good yarn, all is forgiven. I received an advance copy of this novel in return for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

The Lie Maker
Linwood Barclay

All That We Are Heir To
Laura Lyndhurst

ALL That We Are Heir To is the final book in Laura Lyndhurst’s Criminal Conversations trilogy. It explores the repercussions of the events of the first two books on Katie, Mags’ daughter. }Brought up by her ‘aunts’ after the death of her mother, Katie has an idyllic childhood, with no notion of the tangled web that preceded her birth. The appearance of her father, James, who has been in prison, opens up a new world to her as he introduces her to a wealthier, more cultured life than the one she has been used to. She also discovers she has a half-brother, Miles, and the two children forge a strong bond.
Hanging over all of them, however, is the horrific story of love, betrayal and abuse that shaped Mags, James and his brother, David. It’s not long before Katie is exposed to this history and her small world begins to crumble around her.
Laura Lyndhurst teases out the gradual conflicts that affect Katie with her usual exemplary writing and attention to detail. The characters all have something to contribute to the story and their input is handled seamlessly. I hesitate to write much about the plot because I’m still reeling from the ending. Not only does it tie up all the loose threads from books one and two, but one of the characters completely floored me in the final chapter.
In conclusion, all I can say is – if you haven’t read the Criminal Conversations trilogy, now is the time to rectify that. I strongly recommend that you begin with Fairytales Don’t Come True, followed by Degenerater, Regenerate, both of which will influence your thinking and enhance your enjoyment as you read this excellent book.

The Night House is a horror story in three parts, a new departure for Jo Nesbo.
The first part features a fourteen year old boy who witnesses a couple of horrific supernatural events and becomes a suspect in the eyes of the police. Suffice to say, in this section, he solves the mystery, survives the  evil entity and gets the girl. At the end of this part of the story, I was ready to give up. The whole thing read like YA and there were huge, unexplained gaps in the plot.
However, I soldiered on with Part Two where the writing style changed, there was an explanation for the style of the first part and the horror became more overt with intense detail. The change in style was a bit disconcerting and I felt a bit cheated but, nevertheless, an interesting premise was developing. 
The whole thing plummeted to earth with Part Three which was flat, dull and descriptive. Without giving any spoilers, I felt that Nesbo was attempting to emulate Stephen King’s ending to the Dark Tower series but it just didn’t come off, posing more questions than there were answers to.
At times, I found it hard to believe that Nesbo had written this book. He has been a favourite author of mine for a long time. I thoroughly enjoyed most of the Harry Hole series but, recently, his novels have become a bit … odd. Although I have been disappointed a few times now, I will keep reading his books in the hope his plotting will level off again.
I was supplied with an advance reader copy of this book in return for an honest opinion. All opinions are my own. 

The Night House
Jo Nesbo

Listless in Turkey
Onia Fox

In Jessica, Onia Fox has created that rare and elusive thing – a relatable character with human failings and an over-riding optimism allied with a reckless self regard that only serves to make her more likeable, even when we’re groaning in despair at her latest impulsive decision. The ‘Turkey’ in the title and the thriller element don’t appear until the second half of the book (although there is a little clever foreshadowing in Jessica’s earlier adventures) but the earlier pages follow our heroine through some beautifully descriptive pages of her journey through Europe, a sort-of surreal travelogue peopled with a variety of unusual people. It’s an unusual book, genre-defying and completely unstructured in places. All I can say is, read it –you’ll be glad you did. 

In this book, the second of the Criminal Conversations trilogy, Laura Lyndhurst transports us to a Greek island, an isolated and forgotten place where life drifts on as it has done for centuries. Stephanos Stephanidou, a police officer is posted there, after challenging a superior officer and succumbs to depression, believing his career and hopes of marriage are over. When he meets an ascetic hermit, initially named as Kadi, he slowly begins to believe in a new future as the old man relates a tale of betrayal and lost love.
In Kadi, as in all great, literary heroes/anti-heroes, Ms Lyndhurst has created a multi-faceted character. Having read the first in the trilogy, Fairytales Don’t Come True, I already had mixed feelings about the man and his motives. As he recounts his story, it becomes clear that he is capable of cruelty, of a single-minded misogny and yet can show real tenderness. Is the occasional tenderness and his remorse for the past enough to redeem him in the eyes of his God and those of the reader” I think everyone will have a differing opinion of him. At times, he reminded of Mr. Rochester, who I loved to hate as a teenager.
As before, the book is rich in culture and history but it’s the two characters who dominate, as another tangled web is teased out in Ms Lyndhurst’s unique and inimitable way.

Degenerate, Regenerate
Laura Lyndhurst

To Die in June
Alan Parks

McCoy is back and this time, it’s personal. Someone is murdering the homeless down and outs of Glasgow, of whom Harry’s father is one. Reluctantly, he combines a search for his father with the broader investigation, fearing that every new victim will be his father.
This is Parks’ usual excellent fare with the secondary characters of his sidekick, Wattie, and his gangster friend, Stevie Cooper. As sub plots, we see Wattie struggling with his relationship with Eddie and Stevie considering ‘going legitimate’ (well, sort of). As for Harry, well, he goes to some dark places and, at the end of the book, has a decision to make. Added to that, an old threat raises its ugly head, meaning there is a lot to look forward to in July.
I received an ARC of this book from Netgalley in return for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

Book One of the Criminal Conversations Series|Mags is a former prostitute and convict. She’s dying.
Dora is a devout Baptist and disapproves of ‘sin’. She’s Mags’ nurse.
Forced into each other’s company during long night shifts, Mags feels the urge to tell her life story and Dora becomes the unwilling, uncomfortable recipient of the dying woman’s confidences.
It’s a wretched and appalling story and, through Mags’ very honest and frank tale, Dora begins to look at her own very complacent life and question whether she is, after all, as content as she could be. And, more importantly, is her husband happy with his life?
These two stories within a story are teased out, as the sub title suggests, in a conversational style. Not an easy thing to do whilst maintaining the pace of each strand, but Ms Lyndhurst handles it in such a way that, even when immersed in one woman’s story, we are always fully aware of the presence of the other and, indeed, their influences on one another.
The story is peppered with literary and musical references which provide an ongoing solid background as the stories unfold. I found myself responding to some and also discovering a few new authors and composers.
All in all, Fairytales Don’t Come True is a clever story, well told and Mags’ heartbreaking story will resonate long after the final chapter is read.

Fairytales Don’t Come True
Laura Lyndhurst