Do you love books that take you to new places, especially if it’s unlikely you will ever visit them in person? Me too. And Downes’s thriller does exactly that, bringing us to the dramatic coastal highways of Western Australia and setting us down among the “vanlifers,” who are exploring the coast while living out of their souped-up vehicles. But this isn’t a Fodor’s Travel Guide. We’re following Katy Sweeney, who’s hit the road in hopes of finding her sister, Phoebe, a sort of solo travel influencer, who disappeared a year ago. The case has grown cold and the cops have all but given up when Katy meets Beth, another young woman who has her own reasons for disappearing into the anonymous van world, a world often hostile to women. The two pair up—Beth is pretty destitute—and use Phoebe’s social-media posts to retrace her steps along the coast. Documenting a true road trip from hell, this fast-moving suspense novel eventually arrives at a resolution that is both terrifying and shocking, turning everything we have come to believe inside out and upside down.
Women
A delightful satire—fun, fast, and furious—of the high-flying tech industry. Every year adtech start-up Aurora brings together its top executives for a weekend retreat (think PowerPoint presentations and Jet Skis), this year, it’s in Miami Beach. It’s quite a cast of characters: for starters, the CEO models himself on Churchill. In the hands of other novelists, the cast could become a messy menagerie. But each character here is so well-defined, beginning with the company’s latest hire, Caitlin Levy, Head of Events (curious since Aurora has never sponsored an event). But just when the second day has started and everyone is beginning to sober up, there’s the announcement that the company has been sold, and suddenly everyone is if not very, very rich, then quite rich. It would be time to celebrate, except that one of the high-level executives has disappeared. And the entire retreat is under surveillance by the tech media, who can sniff a good story. Like Rosenblum’s first novel, Bad Summer People, this novel delights in exploring what lies under the surface. The adtech folks would call that a deep dive.
Lapena’s psychological thrillers never disappoint. In her latest, set in Fairhill, Vermont, a farmer investigating vultures over his field finds the dead body of a young woman. This kind of thing never happens in Fairhill, and when the horrified local police realize that the victim is a local teen, Diana Brewer, the town reels in shock and grief. “Trying to make sense of something that will never, ever make sense” are Diana’s bereft single mother, who worries others by telling them she still communicates with her daughter, and the young woman’s best friends, Riley and Kelly, who are determined to find the killer. But even in a small town, it’s not easy to figure out who could have done this awful thing, and readers will enjoy sleuthing along with the characters as suspects emerge, each with something dark to hide. Supernatural elements enter in several ways here, adding to the edginess and puzzlement. If you like Chris Bohjalian, this one’s for you, not just because of the Vermont setting but also the small-town drama.
In many ways, Kingston and Jasmyne Williams are living their dream life. Their little boy, Kamau, is thriving. They have another baby on the way. And Kingston, or King, is making oodles of money in finance. But King is eager for a next step: moving them to Liberty, a controversial suburban Los Angeles community of very, very rich Black people that comes with all the trappings. A sumptuous spa—sorry, wellness center. Lavish homes with three living rooms each (one for everyday, one for company, and a den, of course). And an excellent school for Kamau where every teacher is Black and they won’t have to worry about him fitting in. From the moment she reluctantly agrees to this transformation of their lives, Jasmyn is nervous about abandoning her community and her belief in giving other Black people a hand up. And she’s right: Liberty turns out to be one sinister place, in ways readers will never guess and that will keep them on edge right up to the last gasp of surprise. Yoon’s first adult novel has some of the hallmarks of her YA background: a character who feels like it’s her against the world, a shifting sense of who can be trusted, and a feeling of not fitting in. This will be a great crossunder read for young adults as well as a hit with fans of Zakiya Dalila Harris’s The Other Black Girl.
A masterpiece, this is the dazzling tale of a gourmand and con-woman whose life opens up because of an intrepid, brilliant reporter. Manako Kajii is behind bars thanks to her multiple murders of forlorn businessmen whom she seduced with her cooking and promises of a traditional life together. As she famously states: “There are two things that I can simply not tolerate: feminists and margarine.” And you can add a third: journalists, as she refuses to ever give any interviews. Until reporter Rika Machida comes along, herself a bit forlorn, and writes to Manako requesting her beef bourguignon recipe—just don’t call it beef stew!—without any reference to Manako’s lurid and extravagant past. Soon, Rika is visiting Manako in prison, where they cook and devour imaginary meals together, becoming totally immersed in gastronomic fantasies until we can only wonder: who is changing whom? While Manako provides the novel’s spine, we also delve deep into Rika’s world, the misogyny of her workplace, the loneliness of both men and women, her troubled family, the challenge of aging parents. Remarkably enough, this novel is based on a true story, “The Konkatsu Killer;” check out more information on Murderpedia. I cannot wait to discuss this in a book group.
At first, Finding Mr. Write reads like hearty rom-com fare: Daphne McFadden, a struggling writer who can’t get an agent, hires a dishy man to pose as the author of her book. She wants to hate “Zane Remington” but can’t, and complications ensue, not to mention increasingly lingering looks. While the enjoyable rom-com type misunderstandings and drama continue throughout the book, there’s also more here. Crime and mystery come into play when Daphne’s publisher and the book’s rabid fans get ever closer to finding out that Zane isn’t really the author of the wildly popular “dark zombie thriller with a teen girl protagonist,” and Daphne worries about her legal future. There’s also a lot to absorb about the economics, biases, and general messed-up-edness of the publishing industry, with an overworked publicist, one in a long string of underpaid young women, one of the tale’s quiet heroes. This well-plotted look at a maybe-romance and the bizarro world writers inhabit is a fun mix of mystery and romance, and well worth a read.
This sequel to the Northern Ireland-set Northern Spy (2021), in which Tessa Daly desperately searches for her sister, Marion, who has either been kidnapped by the IRA to work for them or is actually a terrorist, finds Tessa hiding in Dublin from the terrorists who want revenge. She’s enjoying a quiet, if lonely, life with her four-year-old son when she’s kidnapped by a gang that includes a childhood friend. He’s now in the IRA and wants Tessa’s help to turn an MI5 agent toward the Republican side. That starts a terrifying ordeal for Tessa, who walks a tightrope between British officialdom and homegrown extremists while keeping her son safe and pursuing a forbidden romance. As in the previous book, Berry portrays a modern Ireland that’s a maelstrom of contradictions, grief for the past and hope for the future, and fear that the country’s core can never really change. But there’s still hope for the Daly family, whose caring and exasperation toward one another makes this local drama into a universal fable of love overcoming all.
The Sycamores, the brilliant setting for this tale of two young women, is a run-down motel, converted into apartments, on the edge of Santa Fe. The residents—whose lives spill out throughout the building, from the balconies to the pool—are a fascinating lot who love nothing more than getting into one another’s business. Broke and thrown out of her ritzy home by her partner, who technically owned everything, Cass ends up the Sycamores’ handyperson, unclogging toilets in exchange for rent. Throw in a side gig slipping married men roofies, photographing them near naked, then threatening blackmail, and Cass has just enough money to get by. Until she accidentally murders very much the wrong guy. Alicia’s route to the Sycamores is more convoluted. Her painter/husband rented one of the units as his studio, but one day—with no real warning—he calls her up, confesses to a murder, then shoots himself. Alicia moves into her husband’s studio to cozy up to the other residents and try to discover the truth behind her husband’s death. This thumbnail sketch only hints at the depth and complexity of this thriller, in which both women take enormous risks, with help from the neighbors, to learn the truth about the lives they’ve lost. Recommended for readers who like a strong, sophisticated thriller with a dynamic plot and unforgettable characters.
There’s a moment in this story of an English village school shooting when a mother tries to call for her son. “[T]he space left by her inhale was filled with elbows, shoulders, and no words came out,” a description that’s just one of the shivers readers will get from Dean’s unflinching look at horror. But the book’s not really about the shooting itself, though that awful event gets its share of pages. Nor is it about the shooter, though he too gets his due, in a section that readers should know includes a horribly accurate look at a verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive man. Rather, Dean puts her magnifying glass on what happens after, when those who question everything except conspiracy theories move in with their claims that the massacre never happened and the victims never existed. A split-second decision by someone from the small town is later blown up by the right wing and adds interesting shadows to the killer/victims dichotomy. Those who wanted Alex Jones ground to dust will be intrigued by this fuller look behind his kind of rabid cruelty, and fans of Dean’s Girl A and of psychological thrillers are also a great audience for this. A realistic and absorbing look at media gone wrong and the lives it scorches.
Here’s a trend out of the U.K.: fun-loving, female serial killers. From doing away with the relatives (Mackie’s How to Kill Your Family) to offing abusive husbands (Casale’s The Best Way to Bury Your Husband) British women are ignoring old school, female solutions like poison or a tumble down the staircase and packing some heat, or, in the case of You’d Look Better as a Ghost, relying on a hammer to the back of the head. Claire, our serial killer and hero, is always planning her next kill, typically of someone who crossed her, starting back in childhood with her murder of her mother, who made Joan Crawford seem like Mother Theresa. Today the 30ish Claire is mourning (a real emotion!) her father’s death, while plotting the murder of Lucas, an arts administrator who rejected one of her paintings. But no sooner is Lucas diced and planted in the back garden—it makes you think twice about the Chelsea Flower Show—when one of the ladies in Claire’s weekly bereavement group let’s on that she knows all about Claire’s special hobby, and if she wants to live, Claire has to give in to blackmail. Is threatening a part-time, but highly successful, serial killer ever a good idea? That would be no. Witty and sophisticated, funny and fast-paced, this dark masterpiece is pure pleasure.