My Year in Books 2024: December

My final book review post of the year! And as seems to be tradition, my December list is way longer than (I think) any other month's list. It's also dominated by Christmas-themed books, but I doubt that'll come as a surprise!

In case you're curious, here are my posts from the rest of the year: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November

Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson (2022)

Last month, I read Everyone on This Train is a Suspect, not realizing it was a sequel. It was a fun read, and I liked the narrator, so I was curious to go back to the first book. And I loved it. I completely fell in love with this book! The narrator is Ernest Cunningham, who makes a living self-publishing books about how to write crime fiction (with an emphasis on the Golden Age). Ern’s family is having a reunion in a mountain resort (for reasons that will become clear), and he is reluctantly attending. Pretty early on, a body is discovered on the mountain, and Ern suspects that it has something to do with his family. Because, as we know from the title, everyone in his family has killed someone. The book is written in a knowing, genre-savvy, metafictional style. Ern narrates his narration, even going so far as to tell us early on where we’ll find a death and breaking off at times to list the clues that we might want to consider. However, the characters are well-drawn, and there’s some genuinely harrowing backstory given that had me completely hooked. I really like Ernest as a narrator – he’s much more complex than the gimmick of his storytelling style. But the thing that I loved most was that, for all his explanations, narration and commentary, there’s one secret that Ernest resolutely keeps, a secret that no true Golden Age fan would ever reveal, and that made me very happy.

The Anti-Social Season by Adele Buck (2024)

Since we were away for our annual festive getaway, my thoughts turned to Christmas fiction. I don’t read a lot of romance, but it’s one of the genres that kinda dominates the festive season (along with murder mysteries), so I thought I’d dip my toe in the water. The Anti-Social Season is the story of Thea – a firefighter who’s dealing with burnout and wanting to leave her job – and Simon – a librarian. Thea is offered the job of running the fire department’s social media, and Simon (who runs the social media for the library) is tasked with mentoring her. It turns out, the two went to the same high school, and Simon had a huge crush on Thea when they were young. This is a charming enough story, with plenty of flirting and quite a bit of sex. The problem for me was that there isn’t really any reason for the two characters not to just get together from the start. Simon doesn’t really hold any ill feelings towards Thea for not noticing his crush, and there are no external factors keeping them apart. So, they do go on a date and end up in bed together pretty swiftly, and then they’re pretty much a couple for the rest of the book. I liked the characters, and the chemistry was good, but I think I need a little more suspense in a romance, or a little more build-up to the happy ending. Overall, it was a light-hearted, fun read though.

Hotel Magnifique by Emily J. Taylor (2022)

The next book I read was a library book that I checked out in October. And it’s the second book this month that I completely fell in love with! This is a YA (older end of the age range) fantasy novel, so not the sort of thing I’ve been reading much lately. The eponymous hotel is a place of magic and decadence that manifests in different locations each day, promising guests a stay filled with wonder and enchantment. When the hotel comes to the town where she lives for the first time in a decade, Jani decides to orchestrate it so she and her sister (Zosa) can get jobs there. Of course, as soon as they’re inside the hotel (or maybe even before that), the cracks in the wonderous façade start to appear. Is being part of the Hotel Magnifique really such a good idea? I loved the descriptions of the hotel, and the growing air of menace. But most of all, I loved the character of Bel, who appears first as a ‘doorman’, ushering Jani and Zosa to their new jobs, but soon revealed as a much more integral part of the hotel. Bel is, by turn, attractive, mischievous, broken, traumatised, menacing and mysterious. Taylor does a really good job of making the reader get to know this character at the same pace as Jani, so our feelings towards him follow those of the heroine. Overall, this is just an incredibly fun read, and I couldn’t put it down!

The Christmas Guest by Peter Swanson (2023)

’Tis the season for festive novellas. The next book I read was a quick Christmas-themed mystery. The blurb promised the ‘slickest of twists’, which may have been something over an overstatement, but there was still a nice little switch in the middle (though I’ll confess to having seen it coming). After a prologue set in New York, the story takes us back to England in 1989. An American student named Ashley is invited to spend Christmas with one of her uni friends, Emma Chapman, at a country house named Starvewood Hall. As you can probably imagine, Ashley is entranced by the Englishness of it all, and by the quaint Christmas traditions of the family and the local village. However, there’s something off about it all, and there’s an air of menace (I feel like I might use this phrase a lot in my reviews this month) to proceedings. Firstly, it’s not clear why Emma has invited Ashley to stay with her family, seeing as the two weren’t particularly close friends in London. And secondly, Ashley develops a pretty heavy crush on Emma’s brother Adam when she meets him. Through Ashley’s eyes, Adam seems like a swoon-worthy young English gent, but it’s quite clear from comments and actions by others that Adam isn’t quite the person she imagines him to be. As I say, it’s not too difficult to work out where things are going, but it’s still a very engaging read. And I did enjoy the darkness of Adam (weirdly).

The Clinic by Cate Quinn (2024)

The next book wasn’t a Christmas book, but I thought it would be nicely atmospheric. And I was right! The Clinic is a psychological thriller – not to be confused with the other psychological thrillers of the same name – set in a remote and very private rehab clinic. The protagonist is Meg, a dysfunctional woman who works in undercover security at a casino. Meg checks herself after her sister Haley, a famous singer, dies of a self-administered overdose during her stint in rehab at the eponymous clinic. Meg doesn’t believe that Haley’s death was an accident or suicide. However, her stay is only partly an undercover investigation – Meg is also an addict, hooked on alcohol and oxycodone. So, in addition to finding ways to investigate her sister’s death, Meg has to navigate her own detox and withdrawal. She meets a group of celebrities who are going through treatment together, and who knew her sister, and the dynamics between this group form part of both stories (the murder case and the rehab narrative). One of the things I liked was that, though it’s clear that some of the characters had pretty traumatic childhoods, this is presented through the odd comment and implication. The focus is on how the characters are addressing the long-term effects of childhood trauma, rather than explaining in detail how it was caused. The mystery is pretty gripping with some good clues. The solution is a bit mad, but then what else would you expect with such a setting!

The Lamplighters by Emma Stonex (2021)

I bought this book in Mousehole, when we were there to see the Christmas lights. I like to read at least one book set in Cornwall during our annual holiday there, and since we stay very close to a lighthouse, this one seemed like a good fit. Stonex’s novel is about three lighthouse keepers who go missing from their tower at New Year in 1972 (yes – bonus! – this is also sort of a Christmas book). The disappearance in Stonex’s book is fictional, but there are a couple of nods to the real-life Flannan Isles case from 1900. I really enjoyed The Lamplighters. The narrative moves between 1972, showing scenes from the perspective of each of the keepers in turn, and 1992, when a novelist has decided to write a book about the case and is contacting the three women (two wives and a girlfriend) who were left behind when the men vanished. All six of the main characters are fascinating, for different reasons, and because we see things from their perspectives or in their words, it’s easy to feel very connected to them. Personally, I felt the most sympathy for Vince, the youngest and most junior keeper, whose troubled past has led him to working for Trinity House (the official authority for lighthouses). Although the book is unashamedly inspired by the 1900 case, the 1970s setting is really interesting, as lighthouses were being automated at this time, consigning the role and way of life of the lighthouse keeper to history.

The Mistletoe Mystery by Nita Prose (2024)

Another Christmas novella now… earlier this year, I reviewed The Maid, the first book in Prose’s Molly the Maid series for my radio show. The Mistletoe Mystery is a Christmas Special (a bit of a trend this year), so although it’s part of the series, it’s not a whodunnit mystery like the others. It’s basically the story of Molly and her boyfriend Juan Manuel spending Christmas together. But his behaviour is a little odd, leading Molly to believe that there’s a different sort of mystery to be solved. There’s a lot of Christmas in this book, but I think it’s really one for fans of the series. Well, specifically, fans of the character of Molly. This book is absolutely a Christmas Special, so it wouldn’t make a lot of sense if weren’t already familiar with the series. Unfortunately, I’m not a massive fan of Molly, and this book just highlights her worst traits (she’s self-absorbed and judgemental) without allowing her to show off her better traits (she’s good at solving murders). Mostly, the story revolves around everyone at the Regency Grand Hotel bending over backwards to make sure Molly has the best Christmas ever, while she barely gives anyone else’s enjoyment a thought. I know a lot of people really like the character though, and if you’re invested in her relationship with Juan Manuel then this is a must-read instalment in the series. If, like me, you find Molly a little bit self-involved, then it might be one to skip.

Everyone This Christmas Has a Secret by Benjamin Stevenson (2024)

I started off this month by reading Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone, so it was pretty obvious that I was going to be reading Stevenson’s Christmas book at some point. This isn’t as short as some of the other Christmas Specials I’ve read, and it does work as a story in its own right. I’m not sure this would be the best place to start the series, but, unlike with the last book I read, if this was your first introduction to Stevenson’s Ernest Cunningham series, you wouldn’t be completely lost. In this book, Ern is called by his ex-wife Erin who has been arrested for the murder of her partner. Erin’s partner ran a theatre project to support recovering drug addicts, and he was murdered just before Christmas (and also just before a big magic show at his flagship theatre). Stevenson’s book is as funny and knowing as his previous two, with lots of explanations as to how Golden Age detective fiction works, along with some nice commentary on the ‘rules’ of the Christmas Special that I liked. It’s structured like an advent calendar, with 23 clues in 23 chapters (Door 24 is the big reveal, of course). I’ll confess to/show off about working out a big bit of the mystery, but I was still stumped by some of the other clues – as it should be. Although the Christmas element is the appeal with this one, it’s a decent mystery outside of that. Poor old Ern though.

The Examiner by Janice Hallett (2024)

The last book I read in December was one I’d been looking forward to, but which turned out to be a little bit of a disappointment. I’ve loved all of Janice Hallett’s novels so far (including her Christmas Special, which I read last year). The Examiner is very much in the mould of her first novel, The Appeal, which I adore. The reader is presented with a series of documents, with a brief note to say that ‘something’ has happened but no further explanation. In this case, it’s a collection of reports and chat transcripts relating to a group of six art students on an MA course. As with Hallett’s other novels, there’s a lot of comedy, particularly in the chat transcripts, and her ability to let readers get to know characters through limited and non-standard storytelling techniques is, once again, incredible. However, in many ways, this novel treads the same ground as The Appeal, so it held far fewer surprises than (my favourite so far) The Twyford Code. I had some issues with the mystery itself as well, but it’s quite difficult to say what I didn’t like without spoiling the book for those who haven’t read it. Suffice to say, I prefer mysteries that look like big, shadowy conspiracies but turn out to be much more domestic in the end, rather than the other way around. I wonder if it’s time to update Ronald Knox’s Ten Commandments of Detective Fiction to include… well… things I won’t spoil here.

My Year in Books 2024: January

A new year and a new set of book review posts. I read quite a bit in December, but actually I've been struggling a bit with reading for fun again. I've got plenty of books on my to-read pile, but I've been find it hard to find the time and the concentration for reading them all. I'm hoping this will get better as the year goes on though.

That said, I did read two amazing books in January!

The Mysterious Case of the Alperton Angels by Janice Hallett (2023)

I’ve absolutely loved all of Janice Hallett’s books, so I was definitely looking forward to this one. I got this one out of the library on a recent visit, and as I had a day off I decided to read it all in one go. Like Hallett’s other books, this one has a quirky narrative format and tricksy storytelling style. It’s not quite as tricksy as The Appeal and The Twyford Code, and so it’s slightly easier to work out what you’re looking for and where the clues are in this one. The story is about a true crime writer, Amanda Bailey, who is tasked by her publisher with looking into the case of the Alperton Angels, a cult who committed mass suicide seventeen years ago. The so-called Alperton Angels had planned to sacrifice a baby prior to their deaths, but this plan was thwarted and the baby – along with its teenaged parents – were removed from the scene. No one knows what happened to the baby afterwards, but now that it will be reaching eighteen years of age, Amanda thinks this might be the angle she needs for her book. Unfortunately, an old colleague/rival, Oliver Menzies, is also writing a book on the case, so Amanda has to try and stay one step ahead of him. Of course, this being a book by Janice Hallett, things aren’t quite what they seem. I really enjoyed this one, though it didn’t quite beat The Twyford Code for me. Very engrossing story though!

Five Minds by Guy Morpuss (2021)

I read Morpuss’s second novel Black Lake Manor at the end of 2022/beginning of 2023, and really enjoyed it. I don’t know why it took me so long to read his debut novel, but I’m glad I have done now. The story is set in the near future when an undefined totalitarian regime has stepped in to control overpopulation and depletion of resources. Human beings now have a choice of how to live: be a worker (live your life as normal, but work for it), be an android (have your consciousness downloaded into an artificial body with a lifespan of 80 years), be a hedonist (enjoy your life without having to work, but only with a lifespan of 42 years), or join a commune (five minds inhabiting one body, enjoying 5 lifespans). This is the story of a commune made up of Alex, Kate, Mike, Sierra and Ben, who are each conscious for 4 hours a day, controlling the body that they all share. So far, so Black Mirror. But Five Minds is actually so much more intriguing (and the mind-bendy sci-fi context is very light-touch). It’s a mystery novel told through multiple narrators who can never co-exist or communicate with one another. Someone is trying to kill off members of the commune, and it’s possible one of the members is a traitor – but how can they ever work out the truth, if they each only get four hours at a time? This is such a good book – highly recommended.

My Year in Books 2023: December

And so, it's my final book review post of the year. Just in time for New Year's Eve. My December lists are usually a bit longer than the ones for other months, as I have a little bit more time for reading for pleasure in the second half of December. That said, I think this post is a bit shorter than last year's December post, and it might not be the longest one from 2023. It's very festive though...

My reviews of the books I read in December are below, but here are links to my posts from the rest of the year: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November

Yule Island by Johana Gustawsson (2023)

I didn’t really get much time for reading at the beginning of the month, but we were on holiday after that and I took a massive pile of books away with me (most of them with a Christmas or winter theme). The first one I read was Yule Island, which not only had a winter theme but also a small, isolated island setting (and I’m always a sucker for those). Emma Lindahl is an art expert who is asked to value a collection belonging to one of Sweden’s richest families. She travels to the family’s mansion on the island of Storholmen, the site of a grisly unsolved murder nine years before. But then another body is found on the island, and the case seems to have a connection to the earlier murder. Detective Karl Rosén arrives to investigate, and all sorts of secrets start to come to light. This one was told by multiple narrators, and Gustawsson plays a couple of narrative tricks that I enjoyed. There are a lot of big surprises, and the fast pace of the story means that these feel like they come thick and fast. I guessed some, but others were a shock. I think I would have liked more sense of the setting, but there’s plenty of Scandinavian mythology here that appealed. The detective also turns out to be one of the most intriguing characters, which is normally a no-no but Gustawsson makes it work. Overall, a nicely atmospheric thriller that’ll keep you guessing.

Daisy Darker by Alice Feeney (2022)

I saved the next book for when we were away, because it’s set in Cornwall. Also, even though it’s not got a specifically Christmas setting, it was marketed as a Christie-esque locked room mystery, which I always find festive. The story is narrated by the eponymous Daisy, who has arrived in Cornwall with her family to celebrate Nana’s 80th birthday. The Darker family don’t spend very much time together, and so it’s not the warmest of reunions. And then the murders begin… Nana’s body is discovered in the kitchen, and she’s not going to be the only victim. Someone is picking off the Darker family, one by one, but there’s no way a stranger can have got into the house. There are two timelines here – the present-day storyline with the murders, and flashbacks to the past, where Daisy narrates her childhood and some background to her family. Something is definitely not right with the Darkers. This book is a lot of fun, particularly as the Christie inspiration is played with openly. I have to admit that I didn’t guess where it was going, because Feeney isn’t averse to breaking a few of the rules (okay, one MASSIVE rule) of classic detective fiction. I enjoyed it though. It’s wonderfully atmospheric, with a great sense of place. And the rule-breaking does allow for a satisfying (if a little eyebrow-raising) conclusion that makes everything that’s come before make sense – I guarantee you’ll be flicking back to confirm something when you reach the reveal!

The Other Mrs Walker by Mary Paulson-Ellis (2016)

I read (and really enjoyed) The Inheritance of Solomon Farthing a couple of years ago, but it’s taken me a while to go back and read Paulson-Ellis’s first novel. Like Solomon Farthing, the novel involves ‘heir-hunters’, people who track down the relatives of people who die intestate or without identification. The story starts with an elderly woman dying in these circumstances at Christmas in Edinburgh (yes – it’s another Christmas setting!). Enter Margaret Penny, who returns to Edinburgh that New Year and reluctantly moves back in with her mother. Margaret has no real plans or ideas about how to support herself, so she falls into the role of ‘heir-hunter’, tasked with finding out the truth about the dead woman. I enjoyed this one, but it was very similar in structure and storytelling to Solomon Farthing, and this was a tiny bit frustrating. For those expecting a straightforward detective story, the idiosyncratic storytelling might be even more frustrating, but fortunately I knew what to expect (and am not strictly wedded to genre!). As well as Margaret’s investigation, we have chapters set in the past, revealing things to the reader that the investigator will never find out. The life (lives) that unfolds before our eyes is filled with darkness and pain, but there’s something compelling about the story, for all its grim narrative of abuse, betrayal and trauma. I got quite immersed in this one, though maybe not as much as with Solomon Farthing. I’m definitely going to read Paulson-Ellis’s third novel though.

The Last Snow by Stina Jackson (2021)

This is another one I saved for when we were away. You can probably guess why from the title. Jackson’s book is set in a small, isolated Swedish town called Ödesmark. The town is haemorrhaging inhabitants, but Liv Björnlund stubbornly remains, living with her imposing father Vidar and her son Simon. Liv is close-lipped about why she has chosen to stay, but some people in the town believe that her father has a fortune hidden away in his house. Regardless of this, Vidar makes his family live a frugal (even impoverished) life, and Liv works at a filling station. Along with this story is that of Liam, a man desperate to provide a stable life for his daughter, and his brother Gabriel. There are also flashbacks to things that happened in the past, though it’s not clear until the end how these different narratives will come together. I found Liv quite a difficult character to get to know. Liam was, on the surface, a little more sympathetic, though we know he’s made some bad choices in his life. The book is very atmospheric, though this is much more to do with the claustrophobic bleakness of Liv and Liam’s lives than the physical setting itself. Weirdly, the winter setting isn’t as prominent as I’d expected, but there’s quite a bit about the situation in Ödesmark, particularly around land ownership and tenancy. This one is definitely a slow burn, but you sort of get sucked into it and can’t put it down.

The Christmas Appeal by Janice Hallett (2023)

I’ve really enjoyed all of Janice Hallett’s books so far, so I had to read this one. It’s a novella that brings back some of the characters from The Appeal (her amazing debut novel) for a somewhat light-hearted Christmas story. This is such a bonkers idea – like a TV Christmas Special but for a book. So, the Fairway Players (the amateur dramatic group from the earlier book) have decided to stage a one-night only pantomime to raise money for the church roof. As before, the story is told through emails and other documents that have been sent to former law students Femi and Charlotte (who are now qualified lawyers) by their old mentor. All we know is that something is going to go terribly wrong at the performance of the play, and that this will involve a ‘Dead Santa’. It was good fun to revisit some of the characters from the first book, and I was surprised to find how attached I was to Femi and Charlotte after meeting them in The Appeal. I also really like Hallett’s idiosyncratic storytelling techniques, and in her other books there’s always that sense that the story isn’t quite what you think. The Christmas Appeal is a lot lighter and fluffier than Hallett’s other novels. The humour is more prominent and heavy-handed (farcical in places), and the puzzle is far less cryptic and opaque. It really is just a bit of Christmassy fun for fans of The Appeal, and that’s not a bad thing.

The Running Grave by Robert Galbraith (2023)

I’m ending 2023 the way I ended 2022… reading the most recent Cormoran Strike novel. Last year, the last book I read was The Ink Black Heart, and this year it was The Running Grave. And, like last year, I pre-ordered this one, got it as soon as it came out, and then saved it for months so I could read it at Twixtmas. I have to say that, although the two are equally weighty, The Running Grave is a bit easier to read than The Ink Black Heart (the chat transcripts in that book took a bit of working through). It’s a return to a more conventional format, with a tighter timeline and a bit more action. Strike is asked to investigate the Universal Humanitarian Church by a worried father who believes the church is a cult. There’s some evidence to support his fears. Reluctantly, Strike agrees to let Robin go undercover and infiltrate the church and, as you can imagine, this proves to be rather dangerous. It’s a page-turner – as expected – and the mystery seems very convoluted but has a clear and satisfying explanation – as expected. I enjoyed it, probably more than The Ink Black Heart but less than Troubled Blood. The only thing I’ll say is that we probably are going to have to see something happen between Strike and Robin soon, as there’s only so much longer the will-they-won’t-they thing can work. I’m just worried the author will resolve it by killing one of them off.

Countdown to Christmas: Day 19

Still on holiday in our little cottage at The Lizard!

Twilight Walk

This evening, we went for a twilight walk to the cliff edge near the cottage. There's some really dramatic rocks there that looked amazing in the evening light (though it got very dark very quickly so we had to be careful).

Rudolph Millionaires Flapjack

Rudolph Millionaires Flapjack from Flapjackery in St Ives!

Christmas Pudding (Stage 2)

So we steamed the Christmas pudding for 8 hours today and had a bit of a surprise when it was done. Turns out, although I have a number of skills, judging how much baking powder to add to plain flour when we don't have any self-raising is not one of them. We have a very puffy pudding.

Tullibardine Whisky

More nice whisky tonight. We had a Tullibardine tasting set, which was another present from my little brother's recent trip to Scotland.

Escape from the Museum

And another escape room game tonight. This time, we escaped from a museum.

The Christmas Appeal

After another successful escape, I settled down to read The Christmas Appeal by Janice Hallett, accompanied by Candy Cane tea from Bird and Blend.

Advent Tea

Behind Door No. 19 in my Bird and Blend tea calendar... Champagne Supernova (their Manchester blend)!

Advent Jewellery

And behind Door No. 19 in my Avon jewellery calendar... silver loveheart earrings!

My Year in Books 2023: July

Time for my July post about what I've been reading for fun recently. It's been a busy old time, but there are still four books on this month's list, so that's not too bad!

In case you're curious, here are my posts from the rest of the year so far: January, February, March, April, May, June

And here are the books I read in July...

The Twyford Code by Janice Hallett (2022)

I’ve been saving this one for a treat, as I read Hallett’s novel The Appeal last year and absolutely loved it. I deliberately didn’t read anything about The Twyford Code beforehand, as a lot of the fun of The Appeal was going into it without any expectations, and I was hoping that would be the case with Hallett’s next novel. Like The Appeal, The Twyford Code uses an unconventional but very engaging storytelling technique. Here, the narration is presented to the reader as a series of transcripts of audio recordings made by a man named Steven Smith who has recently been released from prison. Steven recalls an incident – a mystery, really – that happened when he was at school, and his recordings narrate his determined quest to solve the puzzle. The mystery revolves around the eponymous code – a puzzle allegedly buried in the books of children’s author Edith Twyford. While Twyford’s work has fallen out of favour for its outdated views and style (and the comparison with Enid Blyton isn’t subtle), some people believe that her books contain coded messages that, if deciphered, will lead to… well… that depends on who you’re listening to. Steven has realized that what happened in his childhood has a connection to the Twyford Code, and so his audio recordings describe his attempt to solve the puzzle. I’m being very circumspect, because there’s a lot more going on here than you might think. And it’s wonderful, so I don’t want to spoil it in any way!

Bournville by Jonathan Coe (2022)

The blurb for Bournville intrigued me, as it promised a sweeping look at Britain in the second half of the twentieth century and into the twenty-first, but through the prism of a single family in a single location. The setting is the model village of Bournville, which sits on the edge of Birmingham and was created by the Cadbury family to house workers at their chocolate factory. Because I didn’t know much about the book before I started reading it, I wasn’t quite prepared for the format the story takes – though I very much enjoyed the format! The story follows the family of Mary, who we first meet in a prologue set in 2020, as a grandmother who communicates with her family via Skype at the outbreak of the COVID lockdown. We then go back to 1945 to see Mary as a child at VE day, before dipping in and out of Mary’s life over the ensuing decades, dropping in on her family at key moments (e.g. the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, the 1966 World Cup). Mary isn’t the protagonist as such, as we see very little from her perspective. Instead, we see snippets of the lives of her nearest and dearest, and the effects of social change (both big and small) on them. What I loved about the book is the ordinariness of the lives depicted. There are no huge twists here, but rather a poignant presentation of the beauty and significance in even the ‘smallest’ of lives.

The Brighton Mermaid by Dorothy Koomson (2018)

This is the first book by Dorothy Koomson that I’ve read, but it won’t be the last. I loved the way this book was written, and the narrative style was absolutely to my taste. However, it was the premise that grabbed me in the first instance, as I have a real soft spot for cold case stories. The cold case in The Brighton Mermaid dates to 1993, when two friends, Nell and Jude, discover the body of a young woman on Brighton beach. There are chapters set in the 1990s, which cover the immediate aftermath of the discovery, but also the disappearance of Jude shortly afterwards. We then switch to the present day (sort of) to see Nell as she approaches the twenty-fifth anniversary of the two incidents, obsessed with finally solving the two mysteries. I say ‘sort of’, because there are also some chapters set at other points in the intervening years, so you do need to pay attention to the date at the beginning of the chapter to follow the sequence of events. I’ll admit that there were elements of the solution that stretched credulity, but that really doesn’t matter here, as this is such a well-written book with such a compelling central character (and some intriguing secondary characters) that I could accept a few larger-than-life villains who are quite easy to spot. The narration of The Brighton Mermaid is fragmented by design, but there’s still a real sense of pace and momentum to the storytelling. Highly recommended.

The Sanctuary by Emma Haughton (2022)

Next up was another library book. I chose this one because it promised a locked room mystery in an unusual location. The blurb said that the story was about Zoey, a young woman who wakes up after a night of partying in New York to find herself in an unknown location, an isolated white building in the middle of a desert. The building seems to be completely deserted… and then the screaming starts. I have to be honest and say that this was a bit misleading. While all of that does happen, it’s in the first chapter, and by Chapter 2 all of these mysteries have been cleared up. Zoey isn’t in a deserted building, but in a rehab centre (admittedly it is in the middle of the desert). The mystery isn’t really the screaming, but rather it’s the reason why Zoey has ended up at an elite and expensive facility with no memory of the journey. There is a murder part way through the story, but this is just one part of the ‘what the hell is going on?’ storyline, rather than the only focus. This isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy The Sanctuary, just more that I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t actually a locked room mystery (an isolated location isn’t the same as a locked room). The story’s well-written, and I enjoyed the character of Zoey, who’s deliberately unlikeable but also strangely sympathetic, but it’s more of a thriller than a mystery in the end.

My Year in Books 2022: August

Well... here's a turn of events... after months and months of reluctantly publishing posts with a single book on them (two at most), my August post has TEN titles! Famine or feast, I guess. By way of explanation, I had a week off work in August, and I'd planned to just spend it at home, recharging my batteries. Also, five of the books on today's list were rereads. But then again, five of them weren't!

In case you're interested, here are my posts from the rest of the year: January, February, March, April, May, June, July

And here are the books I read in August...

Catherine House by Elisabeth Thomas (2020)

I borrowed Catherine House from my local library last month, but I only finished reading it this month. The blurb for this one is cryptic, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. And even now that I’ve read it, I’m not sure what genre I would say it is. The eponymous Catherine House is a prestigious – though somewhat secretive – university that selects its students carefully and makes them an offer they can’t refuse (namely free tuition and accommodation for the three years of their degree). In return, Catherine House asks its students to give themselves entirely to their studies, not leaving the university at all during their time there and renouncing everything from their former lives, including their friends and family. The protagonist is Ines, a troubled young woman who is running away from some pretty dark experiences, but who has no real inclination towards the idiosyncratic courses of study. I’ve read a few other books that use ‘archaic place of learning hides sinister secrets’ as a premise (most recently Madam by Phoebe Wynne), but Catherine House was quite different. I enjoyed the slow-burn descriptions of the university itself, as well as the claustrophobic intensity of Ines’s experiences. The devil is really in the detail here, and Thomas uses some subtle techniques to develop the madness of Catherine House (hint: watch the descriptions of food as the book progresses!). Catherine House is off-beat and sinister in all the right ways, and its ending is… well… let’s just say questions remain!

Moonflower Murders by Anthony Horowitz (2020)

This next book was also from my local library. Despite being a fan of his television work (Foyle’s War and Poirot specifically), I only read my first Horowitz novel earlier this year. I saw this – which is a bit of a hefty tome – and thought it might be a good one to read on my week off. And wow – I was so right about that! Moonflower Murders is the follow-up to Magpie Murders, though you don’t need to have read the first book to enjoy the second (and there aren’t any spoilers for the previous book, as far as I can tell). Editor Susan Ryeland has left the publishing world and now runs a hotel in Crete with her partner. Out of the blue, a couple (also hoteliers) ask for her help with a mystery. Several years earlier, there was a murder at their hotel. One of the staff was arrested, but they now suspect the police got the wrong man. A novelist – Susan’s star novelist who was murdered in Magpie Murders – wrote a book that their daughter believes reveals the true killer’s identity. But their daughter has disappeared without revealing what, exactly, she read in the novel. What I loved – loved – about this book is that you follow Susan’s investigation up until the point she decides to reread the novel, and then you read the entire fictional novel yourself to find the clues! As ‘story-within-story’ novels go, this one is incredibly ambitious, beautifully written and a lot of fun.

Six Stories by Matt Wesolowski (2016)

If you’ve read some of my previous review posts, you might have seen me talk about Wesolowski’s Six Stories series. I’m a big fan of this series, so I was delighted when I got the sixth book, Demon, in one of my monthly Abominable Books subscription boxes earlier this year. I’ve been saving Demon for a treat, and since I was on holiday for a week (and it was my birthday), it seemed like the perfect time to read it. But then I decided I should reread the other five books first… so the next few reviews are of rereads before I got to Demon. Six Stories is the first book in the series, and so it’s the one that introduces the concept and style that I love so much. Six Stories is a fictional podcast, hosted by the enigmatic Scott King, which looks at cold cases. Each of the podcast episodes covers a different ‘story’ connected with the case, and then at the end Scott King asks listeners (meaning that Wesolowski asks readers) to make up their own minds about what might have happened. In the first book, the case is the death of a teenager a couple of decades earlier. The body of Tom Jeffries was found at an outdoor pursuit centre a year after the boy was reported missing. Scott King speaks to six witnesses (or does he? there is a bit of a twist with this one) to hear their stories and piece together the truth.

Hydra by Matt Wesolowski (2017)

Continuing with my series reread… Hydra is possibly my favourite one of the series, and it has a bit more of a punch to it than Six Stories. The first book introduces the overall concept – including the way possible supernatural explanations will be woven into each of the ‘episodes’ – but it’s really with Hydra that the series properly finds its feet. I was totally blown away by this one when I first read it, and fortunately it did hold up to a reread. The case in this one is that of Arla McLeod, a young woman who brutally murdered her family several years earlier. At first glance, it might seem like this is an open-and-shut case – there is no question that Arla committed the murders, and the explanation for her actions appears to be ‘paranoid schizophrenia’ – but there is so much richness to the story that unfolds, it’s hard to do it justice in a mini-review. Taking in various odd niches of internet culture (including Korean and Japanese challenge games, and old-school trolling), plus moral panics about dark music (via Wesolowski’s fictional ‘bad boy’ musician Skexxixx), Hydra handles its subject material with sensitivity and nuance that’s really second to none. When it comes to the Six Stories series, I came for the quirky format and unreliable narration, but I stayed for the depth and complexity of the explorations of darkness. Although Six Stories hints at some of the series’ underlying concerns, Hydra expands on these in original and thought-provoking ways.

Changeling by Matt Wesolowski (2018)

The next book in the series is Changeling, which goes in a different direction (though still exploring some of those underlying concerns). This time the case is that of a missing child: Alfie Marsden was seven years old when he disappeared from his father’s car one Christmas Eve, and no trace of the boy has been found since. Scott King is contacted by someone claiming to be a ‘friend’ who encourages him to feature the case as one of his podcast series. His coverage begins with interviews with people who knew Alfie’s parents before the boy’s disappearance, and when I first read the book I had an almost instant distrust of the narrative that was being told by the interviewees, which was heightened by being ‘primed’ not to take things at face value by the previous books in Wesolowski’s series. Obviously, on rereading, you go into knowing what you should and shouldn’t trust, but this just makes the story being constructed in the initial interviews feel that much more painful. As with Hydra, there’s a real punch to Changeling. Yes – there is the story of Alfie Marsden (and the resolution of that element made me cry both times I read the book), but there’s also another story, related to the missing child, that lingers with you for longer. Again, the sensitivity and here is really what holds your attention. Life – in all its dark, murky complexity – is far more unpleasant, and far more compelling, than anything the supernatural can offer.

Beast by Matt Wesolowski (2019)

On to Beast now, which is the one I read most recently as I originally read the series slightly out of order. In many ways, this is familiar territory if you’ve read the previous three. Scott King takes on another case – the death of an up-and-coming YouTube star in a small town in north-east England. As in Hydra, the case in Beast isn’t actually a cold one. Elizabeth Barton was found dead in a derelict town (known as the ‘Vampire Tower’) on the edge of the town in 2018. Her killers were immediately apprehended and are serving life sentences for her murder and the mutilation of her body (which was decapitated). Once again, this feels like an open-and-shut case, but Scott King is determined to see it through, to see if he can uncover an explanation for why the young men would do something so macabre. The book weaves together vampire folklore, socio-economic commentary and some internet and urban legend touchstones (I particularly enjoyed the ‘Who put Lizzie in the tower?’ graffiti that echoes ‘Who put Bella down the Wych Elm?’), but ultimately – as we’ve come to expect from the series – the underlying themes start to emerge. There’s a bit of bleakness to the end of this one, particularly in the case of one character (no spoilers!) who, it would seem, never really stood a chance. But as well as the bleakness, there’s more Gothic wildness to Beast than the previous instalments, including some wonderfully evocative descriptions and set pieces.

Deity by Matt Wesolowski (2020)

Deity was the book that originally introduced me to the series. I remember when I got it as the featured book in one of my Abominable Book boxes – I knew straightaway that this was the series for me. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this a million times before, but I’m a sucker for unreliable narrators and narratives, and so I was instantly intrigued by the series concept. Rereading the series in order this time, I’m not sure Deity has the same sort of punch as Hydra and Changeling (or, to a lesser extent, Beast), but it’s still got a lot to hook you in. Scott King investigates the case of legendary pop star Zach Crystal, who died in 2019 in his enigmatic mansion in the Highlands. Part of the fun of Deity – even more so than with the other books in the series – is spotting the pop culture tales that may have inspired the fiction. I also enjoyed the return of Skexxixx, and the development of this character, which (thankfully) moves him further away from the real-life ‘shock rocker’ who I’ve no doubt was an initial inspiration. As with Beast, there are some fabulous descriptions of place here, but that’s really something that’s run through the series since Six Stories. The juxtaposition of unimaginable wealth and fame with the struggling families of Zach Crystal’s fans is very well done too. In the end, there’s more of an ‘urgh’ than an ‘ouch’ at the end of Deity but variety’s no bad thing!

Demon by Matt Wesolowski (2021)

And so to Demon… Another thing you may have noticed if you’ve read my other review posts is that I sometimes don’t read blurbs before I start books. Sometimes I think it’s just better to go in without any preconceptions. Given how much I love this series, and how excited I was to read Demon, it probably goes without saying that I didn’t read the blurb or any of the marketing beforehand. So I was totally unprepared for where this one was going to go. The case in Demon is the murder of a child in the 1990s. The boy was killed by two other children, who were sent to secure units to serve out their sentences before being granted lifelong anonymity on their release. It has to be said, this is a pretty bold move from Wesolowski. The fictional case covered in Scott King’s podcast bears some similarities to the real-life inspiration (which, I’m sure, can be in no doubt), but it’s also substantively different in a lot of ways, and I think this was a sensible move. It allows Wesolowski to create a fiction – one which includes his now-trademark supernatural elements undercut by sensitive social commentary – without accidentally romanticizing what is still a very raw and painful story. However, it has to be said that Demon differs in some significant ways from the rest of the series, particularly in the ending. No spoilers, but it’s a very good conclusion, and really the only one that could be reached.

The Appeal by Janice Hallett (2021)

Demon left me a bit reflective, so I wanted something a little lighter next. I borrowed The Appeal from my local library, and (as is sometimes my way) I didn’t read the blurb properly. I got the impression it was a straightforward murder mystery, possibly with a courtroom element, and so I felt like I knew what I would be getting. I was wrong! And I’m very glad about that, because The Appeal is an absolute joy, and it was great to be surprised. This is a great one to go into without any prior knowledge, because then your experience of reading mirrors the experience of Femi and Charlotte, the two characters through whose eyes we see the story unfold. Femi and Charlotte are law students, and, as we discover in the WhatsApp messages and email at the beginning of the book, they’ve been given a bundle of documents to read by their supervisor. The students are given no information as to what the documents relate to (and so neither is the reader), they’re just ask to read through them and work out what’s going on. It turns out, the documents are (mostly) a series of email exchanges between various members of an amateur dramatics society. What’s the story behind the emails? And what can this have to do with a legal case? Ah well… that’s what Femi and Charlotte (and you, the dear reader) have to work out. Ambitious, original, very entertaining, and a great companion to Moonflower Murders.

The Cottingley Cuckoo by A.J. Elwood (2021)

The next book I read this month was from my Abominable Books box back in December. I didn’t realize until I started to read it that A.J. Elwood is also Alison Littlewood, and so I have read one of the author’s previous novels (Mistletoe). To me, it is quite clear that Mistletoe and The Cottingley Cuckoo were written by the same person, so I’m not totally sure about the distinction between pen-names. But this isn’t a criticism! The things the two books share were all the things I really liked about Mistletoe, particularly the slightly uncanny narrative voice and the deceptively-domestic-but-actually-quite-horrifying storylines. The main character in The Cottingley Cuckoo is Rose, a young woman who dropped out of university when her mother became ill, and who now works in a residential care home for older people. One of the residents is an enigmatic and unsettling woman named Mrs Favell. The other staff leave Rose to deal with Mrs Favell, who begins to draw her into a story of fairies and changelings. I loved the way the horror – and make no mistake, this is a horror novel – grows at a slow, claustrophobic pace, almost to the point that it becomes unbearable. I also very much enjoyed the use of fairies as horror in the book. It’s not easy to do (given the twee, cute character of modern ideas of the fair folk), but it’s done exceptionally well in Elwood’s book. No spoilers, but I absolutely loved the book’s ending as well.

Tiny Birthday No. 22

Last night of my holiday, and I spent it with The Appeal by Janice Hallett and some Mozartkugeln (a birthday present from my mother-in-law).

(This is how I'm celebrating my birthday this year - see here for the reasons why.)