New Yorker Billie has never wanted children. But the series of hurts chronicled over the course of this frenemies story find her standing in the apartment below her former best friend, Cassie’s, place, holding Cassie’s baby while her friend upstairs wails that there’s been a kidnapping. Most of this absorbing tale takes place in the present, when lonely Billie tries over and over to regain the closeness she had with Cassie when they were teens. But Cassie, who’s now a famous Instagram mommy, wants little to do with her. We also flash back to those teen years, when a incident involving Billie’s stepfather, whose sexual abuse of the girl is graphically described, has been kept a secret by Billie and Cassie, leaving them emotionally tied but perhaps also causing their estrangement. As in her Can’t Look Away (2022), Lovering nails the bizarreness of obsessive love—Billie’s for Cassie and Cassie’s for Internet fame—and its twisted outcomes. This book will be a hit with fans of that previous work as well as of Ian McEwan’s Enduring Love.
Women
WHAT a rollercoaster. The “darling girls” in question–Jessica, Norah, and Alicia–are “foster children,” stuck being referred to that way even now that they’re adults. They aren’t biological sisters, but the mistreatment meted out at Wild Meadows by their foster mother, the psychologically cruel and unpredictable Miss Fairchild, has forced them into a lifelong bond. These days, Jessica is a housecleaner who steals her clients’ prescriptions and is being pursued by the relentless Debbie Montgomery-Squires, who wants her Valium back. Norah is on probation for her latest attack, one in a long string of anger-fueled outbursts. And Alicia is barely holding it together as a social worker who’s terrified to pursue a relationship with a female friend who could be more. The three are thrust back into their awful past when the police call to say that a body has been found buried at Wild Meadows, one that appears old enough to have been from their time at the “home.” What ensues are flashbacks to the children’s bizarre, cliff-edge lives as wards of a tyrant, while the darkly funny present-day tale looks at women who fight the system and their circumstances tooth and nail to avoid being victimized again. This is the rare story that’s equally character and plot driven, with the “sisters” portrayed as distinct and lovable and the plot just packed with twists. Hating Miss Fairchild is the icing on the cake
Nelly Sawyer’s father is a Kentucky horse breeder and the richest Black man in America. The family is in prohibition-era Chicago for Nelly’s coming out, when she’s expected to meet the country’s most eligible young Black men and find one to marry. She doesn’t fit in at the events, disdains the whole charade, and just wants to be alone to grieve the recent death of her brother. She’s also eager to pursue a career in journalism, not easy for a woman, let alone a Black woman who’s been raised in genteel isolation. Outside the cotillion and other events are no better, as white Chicagoans take the young woman for a servant. Nelly is soon distracted, though, when she’s surprised by potential love interests: Jay Shorey, a mysterious, beautifully dressed speakeasy manager, and the more suitable, at least in society’s view, Tomás Escalante y Roche, a Marquis who is this season’s catch. When Nelly is challenged to find and identify the dangerous Mayor of Maxwell Street to keep the newspaper job she’s threatened with losing, both men and Nelly herself are thrown into a vicious game of deceit that adds high suspense and sometimes terrible danger to the politics-laden season. An evocative and thought-provoking debut, and just look at that cover!
One of the darkest, but funniest, novels I’ve read in a long time—largely thanks to the wonderful narrator, Lucy Chase. Lucy is taking a break from Los Angeles and heading back to her hometown of Plumpton, Texas. It’s been five years since she’s been in Plumpton, where nearly everyone, including her parents, is convinced she murdered Savvy, her best friend. After all, she was found leaving the scene of the crime, covered in Savvy’s blood, Savvy’s DNA under her nails, and suffering from amnesia. Kind of a downer, right? The one exception is her Grandma, who believes Lucy’s innocence and uses her 80th birthday party to lure Lucy home. It also seems like Ben Owens, the editor of the hugely popular true crime podcast “Listen for the Lie” is in town, with Lucy in his cross-hairs. Grandma is convinced that the handsome Ben will end up exonerating Lucy—and Lucy ends up sort of working with, and sleeping with, Ben, while also fooling around with a few other potential witnesses, like her ex-husband. The prose snaps and the plot speeds along in Tintera’s portrayal of small town, alcohol-addled, smiling-to-your-face-while-trashing-you-behind-your-back Texas. This would make a perfect series—and what fun to cast! For those who enjoyed Jennifer Hillier’s Things We Do in the Dark and Bella Mackie’s How to Kill Your Family.
Elizabeth is in a rut. Her job isn’t so satisfying, and her marriage is on the rocks. Her every move seems to trigger a report by her husband, David, to their therapist. She feels ganged up on and adrift, which is bad enough. That descends into depression, which others believe is paranoia, when she finds her neighbor Patricia dead. Others say it’s suicide, but Elizabeth is sure it was murder and is determined to find the culprit. She has a willing sidekick in her sleuthing in Brianna, the assistant that David insists his wife take on to help out at home. Brianna, who is Black, is all too willing to be white Elizabeth’s new best friend, Watson to her Sherlock, and de facto therapist, given that Brianna has a strong motivation to insert herself into her employers’ upscale Memphis neighborhood: someone there called the cops on her son and they killed him. As the plot twists and turns, deceptions build, and though readers have the benefit of a birds’ eye view of the story, surprises are in store. This is reminiscent of Elizabeth Day’s Magpie, with its suburban setting and overcrowded marriage; the effects of gentrification and racism also loom large. For fans of Magpie Murders and novels that pack in the psychological drama.
Ruth Cornier is that rarity in fiction: a woman who had the chance to get out of the town that’s too small for her—in this case, Bottom Springs, Louisiana—but stayed. Growing up, everyone knew her as the preacher’s daughter, and nothing’s changed, except that she’s no longer under her father’s thumb. She is still, however, the subject of her downtrodden mother’s malice-filled plans to drag her back to the snake-handling church’s fold. What’s so objectionable about Ruth? It’s her firm friendship with Everett Duncan, her Heathcliff-reminiscent best friend, who’s returned to town after Ruth thought him gone for good. While Ever is the kind-hearted son of the mean town drunk, locals think he’s an apple from a no-good tree, and even suspect him of being the Low Man, a supernatural being who drags people into the swamp. When a skull is found in that same swamp, Ruth and Ever are thrown back into dark days of their youth while also desperately trying to find what really happened before Ever gets what locals think he deserves. As in Winstead’s In My Dreams I Hold a Knife, sharp writing, compelling dual timelines, and sympathetic characters will keep readers turning the pages.
Ryan Summer helps a young woman named Evie Porter with a flat tire, and shortly afterward, they are inseparable in Elston’s twisty thriller. He falls head over heels for her, but in Evie’s case, the relationship is an assignment from her mysterious boss she has never seen, Mr. Smith. Her orders are to get close and obtain information about Ryan’s business. As time passes, she finds herself falling for her mark, and one evening, while meeting some of Ryan’s friends, she meets Lucca Marino. Evie’s real name is Lucca Marino, and this woman is using Evie’s real-life identity and background. It’s clear her boss has put a target on her back, and she will have to use all her manipulative skills to stay alive, even if that means she has no realistic chance of returning to her old life. Retirement is not an option. Elston has crafted a story that stretches credulity a bit, but works. Readers will be dying to finish this fast enough so they can decipher what’s going on, and it’s a guarantee that they’ll find the truth unexpected. Fans of Hank Phillippi Ryan and Megan Miranda should seek this out.
“Kill someone and she becomes part of you…Take her life and where do you put it?” Trying to rid yourself of your victim’s voice is “A rubber band you can never snap.” The women doing time in an Arizona prison in Pochoda’s latest, including our downtrodden hero, Florida, are firmly stuck, mentally and physically. Until COVID hits and some are released to allow for social distancing. Florida was due for release soon anyway, and the early liberty doesn’t seem much like a gift when she’s stuck in Arizona with no way to get home to Los Angeles. Life’s been cruel to Florida (real name: Florence, but prison nicknames stick), and the first setback—the Department of Corrections forgetting to feed her when she’s enduring quarantine in a dead-end motel—sets her on the road, fleeing parole restrictions. On the bus to freedom, she runs into her nemesis Dios, another former inmate, and the Orange is the New Black comparisons start to stack up, with former rich-kid Florida taking Piper’s role and Dios Red’s. But this transporting tale is much more a coming-of-age saga than an OITNB spinoff. With Officer Lobos—Florida’s doppelganger in haplessness and hard luck—on her tail, can Florida outgrow her prison persona and find freedom?
Liv is imprisoned in a rusting shipping container in rural Alaska, her captor her ex-husband, whom she’s tracked down after he faked his death and ran from their marriage and disabled son. He’s now living with a new partner in a proto-cult based on the writings of a guru who espouses pleasure above all else and is happy to philosophize endlessly while harsh conditions threaten his family. Over time, as Liv gains entry to Mark’s house and to some of his more sordid secrets, she plots her escape, one that it seems impossible being phone- and car-less as she is. Townsend takes us on a tense ride through family and cult dynamics, along the way treating us to a memorable look at female and parental resilience; the up-close look at a narcissistic patriarch who’s setting himself up to fail is a bonus. For fans of wilderness thrillers such as Karen Dionne’s The Marsh King’s Daughter.
A near-perfect novel of utopia-gone-wrong. Liz and her three female friends take a vacation together every year, typically somewhere with plenty of sun and a good bartender. But this year it’s Liz’s turn to pick, and needing a radical reset, she decides they’ll go mountain climbing in the gorgeous wilds of Norway. Gorgeous, but deadly. And—as the locals point out, not a climb for the inexperienced—which is all of them. Here’s a bit of what could go wrong: creepy, predatory males spying on them; killer storms; mud slides; loss of all provisions; no cell phone reception; and interference from a drug cartel. In addition, each woman manages to screw things up in her own way, like losing the trail or spraining an ankle, regularly setting them at one another’s throats. The novel builds slowly, we get plenty of insight into each woman’s personal life and the baggage she hopes to leave on the mountain, while the suspense blossoms beautifully. Richly atmospheric, well-plotted, with plenty of insight into female friendship, this should appeal to fans of Lisa Unger and Claire Douglas.