Short Book Review: A Romance Writer's Murder Confession

The Ghost Writer, by Alessandra Torre (Thomas & Mercer)

I first met Alessandra Torre through InkersCon, which offers in-person and virtual conferences for writers, mostly but not exclusively self-published romance writers. I found the virtual events energizing and worthwhile, in no small part due to Alessandra’s passion and knowledge. She often references her own work, comprising romance, contemporary fiction, and suspense/thriller (as A. R. Torre), so I decided to check it out. I knew she could teach (and organize!), but was this an instance of “those who cannot do, teach”? The answer was a resounding “No!” The Ghost Writer came out in 2017 and falls under the loose category of “domestic thriller.” It’s a gripping page-turner fired by the obsession of the narrator, a romance novelist named Helena Ross. At the beginning, Helena lets us know that she is dying (from cancer for which she inexplicably refuses to undergo treatment), that she is an utter perfectionist who cannot tolerate frailty in either herself or others (like her agent or her rival to the title Queen of Romance), and that, in her words, her final book is not a novel but a confession. If that isn’t enough, she has only three months to live, and every day the cancer steals more energy and focus. The only thing to do is hire a ghost writer, and the most likely—the only viable candidate—is her rival. This description falls far short of Helena’s vivid, idiosyncratic voice, the steadily increasing dramatic tension, the whiplash turns and revelations, and the ultimately satisfying if tragic ending.

Torre doesn’t pull any punches; she plays fair with the reader every step of the way in both what she hides, what she reveals, and how she creates one delusional “down the rabbithole” path after another. The book is an exemplar of precisely timed, nuanced details, superb handling of dramatic tension, and compelling emotions.

Short Book Reviews: A Domestic Haunted House Thriller

 Just Like Home, by Sarah Gailey (Tor)

Oh, my.

I fell in love with Sarah Gailey ‘s writing when Magic for Liars hit the stands, and  I became even more a fan with her tale of hippopotami in the Mississippi River (River of Teeth). Her domestic thriller, The Echo Wife, took her storytelling into new territory and new heights. Now Just Like Home unveils her mature talent. It fits loosely within the new genre of “domestic thriller,” more toward the “domestic horror” side with supernatural elements.

Vera Crowder returns home at the summons of her dying mother, from whom she has been long estranged. She does so reluctantly, because her house--the notorious Crowder House, hand-built by her father—was the scene of serial murders. The town isn’t exactly thrilled to have Vera back. Questions like “Did you know what was going on?” still haunt her. To make matters worse, her father and the house have become the object of true-crime fans, and the son of a journalist who helped to publicize it has become the mother’s caretaker (and heir) and is busy stripping the house for his “murder art pieces.” As Vera sorts her mother’s belongings, the memories she has long suppressed come to life, along with disastrous truths.

I won’t say more about what those truths are because the process of revealing them is one of the ways this book is brilliant. Vera is an unreliable narrator who hides horrific childhood memories from herself, but she herself is not the person initially presented. Nor are her parents. By alternating between past and present, Gailey takes us on an ever-tightening spiral path, each revolution bringing more and deeper connections. The final confrontation and resolution, which would otherwise have come as a surprise—not to mention being utterly unbelievable—proceeds inevitably and naturally from what has come before. It’s a masterful handling of darkly gothic elements, psychopathy, domestic terror, and gorgeously bizarre characters.

Gailey is a writer who has come of age and richly deserves the acclaim she’s earned.

Short Book Reviews: Domestic Revenge Thriller

 The Violence, by Delilah S. Dawson (Del Rey)

 What a powerful, disturbing, exhilarating novel! In the beginning, three generations of women are struggling with domestic violence and oppression in different ways, with Chelsea in the middle generation. Her husband terrorizes her, sometimes choking her into unconsciousness and keeping her isolated and financially dependent on him. Her mother, once a destitute teen mother, has sought security in a loveless but wealthy marriage and become obsessed with conformity and her own survival. Now her teenage daughter is about to fall into the same trap when her once adoring boyfriend shows a dark, possessive side. Chelsea knows her chances of making a successful break for freedom are slim to none with her husband’s law enforcement and lawyer buddies to corroborate his side of the story. Her life seems hopeless until The Violence strikes, a viral epidemic that causes bursts of unprovoked, deadly rage that leave no memory of their deeds. In a scenario eerily reminiscent of the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, the rich wall themselves into enclaves while lawlessness takes hold. Soon Chelsea finds herself separated from her family, on the run in a landscape of senseless carnage. Then she stumbles on the Violence Fight circuit, successor to pro wrestling with its vivid persona, costumes, and choreographed moves, and she begins reclaiming her life.

Part revenge-wish-fulfillment, part allegory of what happens when the downtrodden revolt, part examination of society-wide misogyny, The Violence delivers a breath-taking page-turner.