Lily Atwood has the titular perfect life. She’s an Emmy-winning journalist, the kind who wants to be hard-hitting but mostly presents human-interest stories from the comfort of a studio. Every evening, Lily gets to return to her designer Boston home to spend time with her daughter, Rowen, the center of her single-mom existence. Some of Lily’s stories, the juicer ones, are fed to the journalist and her behind-the-scenes right-hand, Greer, by a man calling himself Mr. Smith. They’re sure it’s a pseudonym, but are content to idly wonder about Smith’s identity and motives as long as the tips keep coming. Then he starts getting sinister—at least, Lily thinks it’s Smith who’s behind anonymous flower deliveries to her home, though she’s never given him her address. He also seems overly familiar with events at her daughter’s school. Lily is afraid that he may reveal private details that could finish her career, but she soon has far more to fear. An author’s note reveals that Ryan wrote this during COVID, and the feeling of being trapped and at the same time wanting to hide away permeates the novel. The surprises keep coming, and the tightly woven storytelling closes with a deft, satisfying twist. Fans of the author should add this to their library hold lists as it’s not going to sit on shelves. While waiting, they can try Belinda Bauer’s The Beautiful Dead, which also features a journalist in peril.
Domestic
Avery Chambers is one wonderful narrator. A therapist who has developed a controversial methodology that promises to cure clients in just 10 sessions—and who has lost her license because of it—she’s selective in whom she takes on. But Marissa and Mathew Bishop, well-heeled and in their late 30s, are a quick yes. Marissa has cheated on her husband and is hoping that Avery can help patch things up. But that singular betrayal unlocks one secret after another, and the creepiness factor gets stronger and stronger, until we reach that sweet spot where we don’t know whom to believe or whom to fear. Unlike most domestic thrillers, Greer and Pekkanen’s work summons a wide range of suspects, all with their own nasty secrets. Fortunately, we have Avery, who guides us through the narrative and sub-narratives, and despite her wacko practice, lends the novel a great deal of credibility. This is the best book yet from the Hendricks/Pekkanen duo, and fans of B. A. Paris, Gillian Flynn, and Paula Hawkins are sure to devour it.
Former Cambridge students Helen and Daniel are a few months from the birth of their first child, after numerous pregnancy losses. Helen is understandably nervous, and it doesn’t help when her husband misses their first prenatal class. All she needs is brash, foul-mouthed mother-to-be Rachel sitting next to her and drawing attention. When the woman pours them both a large glass of wine and then drinks both glasses, Helen is horrified but too polite to say anything. Soon pushy, manipulative Rachel insinuates herself into every aspect of the expectant couple’s life, and Helen’s efforts to distance her new “friend” are about as useful as Lamaze breathing. Alongside that accelerating mayhem, to which Faulkner effectively adds urgency by showing the pregnancy weeks ticking by, is the story of Helen and Daniel’s friend Katie, who is a journalist reporting on a rape trial, and a look back at the group’s college days, when they faced a life-altering decision that still haunts. Faulkner gets right into the head of a troubled woman, also excelling at portrayals of more than one imbalanced friendship. This debut features some gasp-inducing twists, and is only slightly less astonishing all the way through. And that last line!
Molly Gray struggles to decipher social cues. Her speech is formal and old-fashioned. She’s obsessed with cleaning—a real advantage in her job as a maid in a grand old hotel. Gran, who always helped her navigate the world, recently died, leaving 25-year-old Molly an orphan. Readers may be quick to diagnose Molly as being on the autism spectrum, but Prose wisely avoids such language, forcing us to make sense of Molly on her own terms. Then comes the day when the maid goes to clean the room of the wealthy and loathsome Charles Black, only to find him dead, likely the victim of murder. Molly’s world is turned upside down as she finds herself the lead suspect. Suddenly, she has to do the unthinkable: reach out to others for help in saving herself. The Maid is a lovely, uplifting exploration of friendship and the power of difference. As Gran would say, “We are the same in different ways.”