Meg (as she’s currently called) knows now that she was born to be a scammer, but she didn’t always know it. It took losing her childhood home to a con artist, then living in her car and going on dates to get food, to wake her up to her dubious talents. Now she’s a pro at the long game, tricking men into letting her clean out their bank accounts before she hits the road, on to the next mark. Sometimes she hurts others along the way, such as Kat Roberts, a journalist who’s now on Meg’s tail, hoping to get revenge as well as success by breaking a high-interest story about a female con artist. But the plan isn’t as smooth as Kat hopes. Kat begins to like Meg and maybe even trust her. Adding complication, Kat’s boyfriend is also a scammer, a gambling addict who uses distractions, fake outrage, and even-more-fake promises when he’s caught, only to do it all again. Kat, and the reader, don’t know who’s at fault and whom to trust when she notices her bank statements missing and other red flags. The roller coaster story here, coupled with the fear and uncertainty endured by Kat as she learns to trust again only to be betrayed again, will stay with readers. And the facts of the various cons—this is virtually an instruction manual for fraud!—are fascinating. For those who like a story in which women fight back.
Women
Talk about jumping right into the thick of the story. As Skördeman’s debut opens, a wife says goodbye to her visiting daughters and grandchildren, picks up the phone, and, hearing just the word Geiger, shoots her husband in the head. We have no idea why she would do this nor where she’s headed after immediately going on the run, and what unfolds is more bizarre than we could have imagined. It’s also much weirder than the Swedish public ever thought could happen to the victim, a beloved TV presenter and jolly father figure known as Uncle Stellan. Espionage involving Sweden’s relationship with East Germany during the Cold War and after, and the relationship between Uncle Stellan’s spoiled, mean daughters and their childhood friend and bullying target Sara—now a police officer who elbows her way into the investigation—are highlights of this tale, as are the frequent head-spinning twists. Potential readers should note that child sexual abuse is a major plotline here. For fans of Elizabeth Elo’s Finding Katarina M., which also has echoes of a communist regime.
This startling work upends every stereotype of old ladies and killers. Known as Hornclaw, our protagonist is only 65 but welcomes the invisibleness of appearing elderly so as to better function as a disease control specialist: a hired killer. Under her baggy, mismatched clothes, Hornclaw has such a fearsome body that a TV producer at the gym asks her to be on a show about unusual people. But she fears being forced into retirement soon, a euphemism for being killed by the other specialists at the disease control agency. As we observe the abusive childhood that led Hornclaw to obsessively love her dog, Deadweight, but blithely kill strangers, we’re led toward a hairpin turn in her personality, when she finally cares for someone but it is part of a deadly trap. The story, which immerses readers into everyday life in Seoul, is made unforgettable by Gu’s language as she draws readers into the chilling, beautiful wanderings of Hornclaw’s mind, which flits from contemplating someone eating a peach (“she watches a perfect small world being smashed inside his mouth”) to considering the home of a newly butchered man (“the hallway to the living room seemed to loll like a dead person’s tongue”). For lovers of literary fiction and book clubs that will try something different.
The recent college-admissions scandal comes to mind when meeting the rich, competitive seniors of Colorado’s Falcon Academy High School and their even more fiercely cutthroat moms. Former friendships are thrown to the side when Mia and Sloane, best friends since grade school, both try for a soccer scholarship to UCLA. Their moms, who’ve spent countless hours together at soccer-pitch sidelines over the years, are increasingly at war too. It’s all eye-rolling entertainment for the staff at the school, who must please the moneyed families no matter how ridiculous their obsessions. Probably the most jaded by these mind games is Natalie, a secretary to the principal who has a front seat to the show and whose personal life is slowly being followed down the drain by her professional one. With so many dysfunctional characters and moral rollercoasters, readers won’t know whom to point at or root for when a body is found in the gym. Ward (Beautiful Bad, 2019) does a great job of portraying the disarray caused by meanness and greed, and when characters show unexpected sides, she deftly makes that switch. Note that there’s sexual abuse “off camera” here. For Liane Moriarty’s legions of followers.
Ingenious grifter. Con-artist extraordinaire. Feminist Robin Hood. Add to this just plain old brilliant and you have the incredible character of Meg Williams. When her mother gets conned out of the family home by a sleazeball boyfriend—then dies shortly afterwards—18-year-old Meg vows this will never happen to her, and she flips the narrative and figures out how to steal from men. She begins small—seducing a high-school principal—but slowly works her way up the food chain as she deftly separates men, one more despicable than the last, from their money. When enough of their assets are in her accounts, she suddenly disappears, off to another city, another persona, another man. While Meg thinks she’s getting away with it all, one woman, journalist Kat Roberts, is watching her. Kate has her own reasons to expose Meg, and the two of them dance around each other as Meg lays the groundwork for her biggest con yet, worth millions of dollars and putting a political career at risk. With two super-strong characters, a remarkably credible and terrifying depiction of high-level scamming, and a pace that’s relentless, Julie Clark has given fans of the domestic thriller a real treat.
We’re in 1936 London and Lena Aldridge has had her share of troubles. Alfie, her beloved father and only parent, has recently died. Alfie was a gifted musician, and Lena has followed in his footsteps, eking out a living as a nightclub singer. Until a gig in a worn down Soho nightclub, when her best friend’s husband, also the club owner, is poisoned and dies right in front of her. Time to get out of town! Fortuitously, Lena has been approached by a stranger, who claims to represent an old friend of Alfie’s, with a remarkable offer: come to New York and headline in a Broadway musical. With nothing to lose, days later Lena’s traveling first class on the Queen Mary. But she hasn’t left all her troubles behind. As a mixed-race woman (Alfie was African American, unknown Mom was white) who passes as white, Lena is anxious about her reception in the U.S., and when there’s another murder on the boat that’s all too similar to the nightclub homicide, her anxiety really ramps up. Hare does a wonderful job of depicting the era, including the big themes—like the rise of Nazism and the pervasiveness of institutionalized racism—as well as the small details, like Lena’s wardrobe. And in Lena, she has created a compelling and empathetic hero whom I would love to follow as she disembarks in NYC. Readers of female-led, historical mysteries from Rhys Bowen, Victoria Thompson, and Mariah Fredericks will be pleased to meet Lena Aldridge.
A foray into the wacky world of wellness led by my favorite character of the year, Olivia (Liv) Reed. Thirty-something Liv, an actor starring in a long-running TV series, is a bit down on her luck. The paparazzi caught her making out with a man who is not her boyfriend, and photos of her ensuing meltdown on the streets of Manhattan were published everywhere. Liv’s also a bit too hands-on with the booze and pills, and her relationship with her one friend, also her publicist/handler, is on the ropes. Begrudgingly, she agrees to check in to the House of Light—don’t call it rehab!—in upstate New York, which bills itself as a spiritual center. But before you can say namaste, the body of a young woman turns up in the adjoining lake—she had ties to House of Light—and when Liv learns she’s just the latest in a series of what are being called suicides, she’s off and running. Smartly, Liv uses her celebrityhood to start a podcast that becomes wildly successful and allows her to present the investigation in nearly real time. Comparisons to Nine Perfect Strangers, the Liane Moriarty book/Hulu series starring Nicole Kidman, are inevitable—and should be helpful in promoting this book—but Dark Circles is even better. After all, it’s got the sarcastic, sophisticated, completely credible, and even sometimes vulnerable voice of Liv Reed.
Rose (The Perfect Marriage) brings to life the rich, overly botoxed women of Buckhead, GA. Mainly showpieces for their uber-wealthy husbands, they spend their passive-aggressive days at Glow, a membership-only beauty salon where the women commit to several treatments per week. Jenny, Glow’s owner, is stuck being nice to Olivia, the queen bitch of Buckhead, who has mastered the “kinsult,” or kind insult (“your skin is glowing…I can barely notice the lack of elasticity today”). Olivia’s abused minions include Shannon, the saddest woman in the book, whose politician ex-husband, Bryce, left her for a younger woman. The “girls,” and perhaps readers, want to hate Crystal, “Bryce’s midlife crisis,” but Rose doesn’t take the easy way out, creating in Crystal a more layered character than at first expected. Then there’s Karen, a luxury-real-estate lawyer who keeps the book and the “friends” as grounded as they can be. Chapters narrated by each of the women alternate with ones in which Jenny is being questioned by police about what exactly happened at Bryce and Crystal’s housewarming, an opulent event that featured a murder. Rose’s writing is pitch perfect when it comes to both keeping readers gripped and making them want to tear Olivia’s (beautifully done) hair out. If you enjoyed Clueless and other mean girls movies and books, this is for you.
Four strangers—two men, two women, all twenty-somethings—are sharing a table in the grand reading room of the Boston Public Library when a woman screams. They have no idea who she is, where she is, or why she screamed, but it does break down the barriers among the four, and by the time they leave the library, they are fast becoming friends. The crew includes a novelist; a law student; a psychology grad student; and our protagonist, Winifred, known as Freddie, a novelist who hails from Australia. It turns out a woman was murdered in the library, and the fab four take it upon themselves to investigate. But when one of the four is attacked, they begin to realize that there may be a connection between them and the murdered woman. And that one of them may be the murderer. Meanwhile, each chapter ends with correspondence to the author of The Woman in the Library, who lives in Australia, from a Boston-based friend who’s helping her with language and locale—until his communiques take a sinister turn. Readers who enjoy a playfulness in their fiction will be delighted by this book-within-a-book. For fans of Anthony Horowitz.
The number of all-caps texts I sent about THE TWISTS IN THIS BOOK!!! were…many. Those twists concern the misdeeds of identical twin sisters Elli and Sam Logan, who are estranged because of a shocking betrayal. They’re former child TV stars, with Sam back then enthralled by their minor fame while Elli hated every moment. As adults, Elli is a mom while Sam sees reproduction as “a monetizable bodily function.” While Ellie explores empowerment in a self-help group, Sam is a barely sober alcoholic and drug addict whose possessions consist “primarily of emotional baggage.” The twins’ paths have diverged, but when their dysfunctional parents call Sam for help looking after a child–one she didn’t know her sister had–she drops everything. The first part of the book looks at the past and present from Sam’s perspective, and the second at the same events from the point of view of her sister. This reveals that identical events can be experienced through a gulf of misunderstanding, hurt, and fear and that damage and love will find ways out. Brown’s insightful language and the emotional brutality and fortitude shown as Elli and Sam are forced to see themselves and each other anew will stay with readers. If twins in fiction are of interest, also try Brit Bennett’s The Vanishing Half.