Wednesday, 14 March 2018

Book Review: Bad Girls with Perfect Faces by Lynn Weingarten

I didn't buy any nail polish off this book.

No one is good enough for Xavier. Not according to Sasha, his best friend. There's nothing Sasha wouldn't do to protect Xavier from getting hurt, especially by his cheating ex Ivy, who's suddenly slithered back into the picture. Worried that Xavier is ready to forgive and forget, Sasha decides to do a little catfishing. She poses as a hot guy online, to prove cheaters never change.

But Sasha's plan goes wrong fast, and soon the lies lead down a path from which there's no return . . .

This is my second encounter with Weingarten. I really liked Suicide Notes from Beautiful Girls and was excited to immurge myself into her writing. This does have similar to that book, but I didn't like this one as much. I mean I did really like Suicide Notes.

The plot is okay, there were some twists attempts, but I wasn't the right type of invested to care. Half way point kinda lost me. It works well in theory, but also seem like quite a standard affair. The plot is bit reliant on the characters being idiots.

This is another friendship bordering on romance. It works well and funly tragic. The characters do a lot of dancing around each other. This is more relationship based than plot, as everything that happens due the character's relationships have with each other.

Overall, I give this book 3/5 stars for locked accounts. I had high hopes for this book and sadly it didn't meet them. It was still a decent read, and if you're looking for a YA thriller, give it ago.

I recieved this book for review off NetGalley and Electric Monkey, it came out on the 11th January 2018.

Saturday, 10 March 2018

Dance Hall: Chapter 5, Temporary Home

Remember this. The novel I was meant to be writing as thing for this. I decided to do another chapter after 17 months. Well, here it is and nothing of interest happened to me this week.

I've read the last four chapters and know there's weird mistakes. I'm going to need to fix them. There's some contradictory stuff about a gate, but that what happens when you writing on the cuff of online form. I don't know if I should post this story somewhere else to get feedback more likely.

I also regret coming up with this title as I have no idea where I was going with it. I didn't want to just be filler, but it probably just filler but long filler.

Chapter 5, Temporary Homes

I jump into the car.


My mother sighs.

“Nova, I wish you would stop being so dramatic.”

She starts the car anyway and we leave the Most Haunted Hotel in this town. We sit in silence till I realise something is off.

“Isn’t the motorway the other way?”

“Yes,” my mother says simply, as if that was the actual question I was asking.

“Where are we going?”

“House inspection.”

I stare at her. That was what the agency was for. My mother almost never deals with her any of her property directly anymore. Not with us moving around so much. We’ve even left the country months for at the time, which lead to having to share a room with a ghost that was screaming in French.
The last time we had did a house inspection ourselves was when a tenant was trying to say the house was still Haunted. It wasn’t, they were either lying (they most certainly were) or had let the stories get to them.  She was up to something. Hell, my mother was always up to something.

I was too tired to deal with my mother’s schemes. I don’t know why she still hides shit from me. I slipped down my seat and shut my eyes. Maybe I can sleep through whatever this is. It not long before the car has come to stop. I opened my eyes to one of our former homes and the one where the rumours never went away from.

It was the third house we had fixed up and had only stay occupied enough to make the low-cost worth it and have its own “investigation” which had happened twice before the first one was aired. It hadn’t even been that haunted to start with, we just had to have the tenant that wanted to have a profitable haunting. They had been asked to leave once they contract had been up, which had not been a profile decision on my mother’s part, but it had been annoying when my former home suddenly had Christian demonic entities in it.

They had several problematic tenants in it. Something that been noisy complaints about it from my mother who got had been annoyed when she knew that house to having nothing in it. It had only taken a month to de-ghost the house. An old lady had stuck around and liked to leave tea everywhere. Sometimes not in cups. She hadn’t known she was dead. She had been killed in the 80s during a burglary gone really wrong. The ‘investigations’ had uncovered dark age witch burnings. It was stupid, those witch burnings had happened in the centre of town and had been faked by the witches wanted to avoid an actual witch hunt in the town where so many were going in the rest country.

“We’re moving here, ain’t we?”

“You’re physic.” My mother says and gets out the car. I followed her out and into the house. I bet she went and got the keys from the agency this morning. It white and bland like most rental places. It opened into the Livingroom and stairs up to the upper floor. It was three bedrooms, a living room with hole into the kitchen, and dining room/office that had boiler in it so couldn’t legally be a bedroom. It had two toilets so that was a plus.

“Are we not going home?” My mother has got and left everything before. Photos and prized toys don’t mean much to my mother. Now it would be comfortable jeans with holes in the wrong places and farewell gifts covered in dust.

“Don’t be silly,” She can be so disregarding to me, like I’m three and I’m just blankly asking why? I stomp up the stairs to remind her I’m a teenage. Hell, I’m almost the same age she was when she had me.

The upstairs was just as bland. The walls were all white, no pangrams that “suddenly” appear on the walls. The wall had to be painted four times to get rid of the red underneath. Bright colours are bitch to get ridden of. Strangely, Yellow was actually the worst. I walk to the back of the house to see the decent size garden, which was one of the other selling points of this house. If you just ignored the ghost stories, it was a perfect family home. Too big for just two people. Last time we live here, my mum was still seeing Ian. He had been living with us, before mum decided to leave town and then we never seen him again. I don’t know exactly what went down, one of the successfully things mum hides from me. Though, I had gotten use to not getting attached. God, I’m a cliché sometimes.

The garden was over running with weeds in the flower beds, but the glass had been cut. It was probably going to stay that way while we stayed here. We’re heading into winter, so we might not need to cut the glass at all. I turn around, to see if we could actually go home now.

I turn around to see a laden in the hallway. Fuck, not a damn attic ghosts. I hate attic ghosts. They always the worst. But we couldn’t have missed that. We scanned the whole house. Hell, I even spent the night in that attic once. Nothing ghost love is a pre-pubescent girl. Actually, they don’t care.

“Mum” I shout up into the attic, re-acting one of the few ghost films I was forced to watch at sleepover. I hear nothing. I’m not going up there by myself, even I can control ghosts.

I got backdown the stairs to find my mother raiding the cupboards.

“The attic opened by itself,” I say factly.

She jumps, banging her head on the cupboard door.

“God Damn it,” she rubs the sore spot. I doubt that was her reaction to the attic.

“Knowing our luck, those idiots attracted something.” My mother stormed up the stairs, I follow her. The attic was still opened but now the light was on. It was possible to trap wandering ghosts or come upon an attached ghost.

It could just be left junk in the attic. That’s would actually be lucky. My mother runs up the ladder.

“Wait, don’t you think we should scan it?”

“I know who this is.” What? I don’t know to follow her. Then I noticed that door in front of me. I slowly approach the door. I pushed open to dark figure…trying to climb out of a second story window. Not dead but about to be.

“What the hell are you doing?”  I grabbed the back of the hoodie and pulled them into the room. They fall into their back, to reveal a masculine face. He was pretty scrawny and might be short than me. It was hard to tell with him laying on the floor.

My mother appears holding a tape recorder.

“Ar, another ghost hunter.”

“I’m not a ghost hunter,” he wines. “I’m an investigator looking for proof.”  Like that’s a different thing.

“By breaking into people’s house.” This house had never been that haunted. She was a little odd lady and made cups of tea. If you’re liked tea she was the perfect house guest. All the stories were bullshit, that ignored facts.

“No one lived in here for months.”

“That doesn’t make it abandoned,” I say to the idiot.

“I’m feeling nice, so I won’t call the police, but if I ever find you in my house again I won’t be so nice.” He scamps up and runs into the ladder before half falling down the stairs. I go to follow him, but my mum grabs my shoulder.

“Turn that light off,” she says and goes down the stairs. I huff.

I swing myself up the first few steps. Ladder is cold and the pattern cuts into my handles. I rush up and scanned the empty attic. The same random toy cars were still scatter over the insulation that the previous owner hadn’t bother to take with them. This might be their grave until this house came down or got new insulation.

I turn the light off. The switch was just right at the opening, saving from pulling myself up and down. The ladder was stiff going back up and the door was slightly opened. How the hell did that kid open this door?

There was a pole somewhere. I scan the empty rooms, and shut the open window, before making my way down the stairs which is also empty. I wonder how that idiot got in here. Alarm system might be needed.

My mum storms in, still holding the recorder.

“I’ll be having words with that agency. That little shit had their spare key.” I don’t know she knew it was their exact keys.

“Going to be quitting them anyway.”

“All the houses are with them” I just nod, I have no clue about this side of the business.

“Can we leave now?”

“Fine, I’ll sort this later.”

We finally leave in awkward. I was wary about moving back here but the locals have proved themselves to be bananas. Perhaps this place is too “haunted”.

Next Chapter: 6?

Wednesday, 7 March 2018

Book Review: The Truth About Alice by Jennifer Mathieu

The truth is that she eats nothing but raspberries.

Everyone knows Alice slept with two guys at one party.
But did you know Alice was sexting Brandon when he crashed his car?
It's true. Ask ANYBODY.

Rumour has it that Alice Franklin is a slut. It's written all over the 'slut stall' in the girls' bathroom at Healy High for everyone to see. And after star quarterback Brandon Fitzsimmons dies in a car accident, the rumours start to spiral out of control.
In this remarkable novel, four Healy High students - the party girl, the car accident survivor, the ex best friend and the boy next door - tell all they know.
But exactly what is the truth about Alice? In the end there's only one person to ask: Alice herself.

Jennifer Mathieu is the author of Moxie which has been talked about a lot. I thought this was the follow up but it's actually Mathieu's debut which makes sense because this does feel more like a debut, potential with room to grow. I think just never been published officially in the UK before, or maybe they have a re-go at it. It was originally published four years ago anyway.

This book is told in multiple points of view in first talking, each talking about what they know of Alice Franklin and their perspectives on the rumours about her. I think this works well and show the show spread of rumours. The characters are given motivates for doing what they do that makes them some what sympathetic sometimes but still pretty dislikeable. Some where rather samey.

I appreciate what this novel was going for. There's this big secret at one point, however, it in a way it supports slut shaming. I think it was meant to be question what you hear, except I don't think it does a good enough of job of saying that. I think would have been better as an obvious lie, or rumour that spread out of control.

Overall, I give this book 4/5 stars for grilled cheeses. I do like this book and it pretty short (I apparently read it in three hours). I get what it was going for with the slut-shaming, it missed the mark somewhat. It does add and support narrative against slut shame, with the emphasis on small town rumours I get what it was meant to be. This was Mathieu debut and know her eventual follow-up Moxie is meant to be geniusly feminist (or something). I did enjoy the process of reading this book (I never know what to say about books with important messages) and if you like a book that tries then go for it.  

I got this book for review off NetGalley and is being published by Hodder Children's Books on

Monday, 5 March 2018


I've been ill all week, with weird arches in my legs. Joint pain is not fun. So I've really not done the things I should of and not been able to give this StrangeAThon my full effect as my full effect is in a bed.

The snow arrived here on Wednesday, which is my excuse for not seeing all the oscars nominated films. Though, I should have went last week, but was busy. I wanted to see Ladybird. I hope Get Out wins, or The Shape of Water and not Three Billboards Outsides Ebbing, Missouri. I enjoyed watching but I just don't think it worth it especially with its BAFTA wins.

I think it might age badly, I don't think it handles it subject matter as well. Maybe that's just my true crime fanatic (I'm not proud of that but it's fact) and disappointed by it. It uses violence as joke, which is cringy even now. Especially, when your plot surrounds a violent murder of I'm guessing a teenager. It not the worst, but definitely not the best of film.

I've been working on writing again. Nothing to share. I'm going to keep trying. Been applying for things for my future. I should be doing a better job of.

I'm off to do the things that I should have done early. Panic scream. Where is my life going.

Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Book Review: The Hating Game by Sally Thorne

There are weirder things to collect than Smurfs I guess.

Lucy Hutton and Joshua Templeman sit across from each other every day . . . and they hate each other. Not dislike. Not begrudgingly tolerate. HATE. Lucy can't understand Joshua's joyless, uptight approach to his job and refusal to smile. Joshua is clearly baffled by Lucy's overly bright clothes, quirkiness, and desire to be liked.

Now they're up for the same promotion and Lucy, usually a determined people-pleaser, has had enough: it's time to take him down. But as the tension between Lucy and Joshua reaches its boiling point, it's clear that the real battle has only just begun . .

This is a book I got for review ages ago and after months of hearing about how good it was, I have finally read it (it might take me years or months, but I intend to read everything I said I would review eventually).

This is a 'hate to love', filled with witty back and forth, which is something I love. Fun dialogue is my favourite thing. They're always at the same power level as well so it's fully enjoyable. I wish all romance focus books were like this one. If read my other reviews, I do paint a picture of me hating all romance. Not true, just a lot romances focus books give no reason for the characters to like each and they have no chemistry at all, which is the opposite in this book. 

The characters Lusy and Joshua are well round with filled out backgrounds and good motives. Also surrounded by interesting supporting cast. Their relationships is fun and I just really like them.

The ending was a bit disappointing for me. Not the way the story ends, just the execution. I wanted  an epilogue kinda of. I just wished the concussion was stronger. I realise we were near the ending and was like hur? There's not time for a proper resolution. I cared about the plot as well as the characters so I wish it was more satisfying.
Overall, I give this 4/5 stars for Strawberry Smurfs. This is a fun romance, with the background of the publishing industry. I've not said much in this review, but I think it better going in not knowing much. I recommended, it one of the best romances I've read and if you want a fun, light read book

I received this book off Netgalley and Piatkus for Review.

Saturday, 24 February 2018

Sick again. (Or is that my natural state).

I am sick again. I always seem to be sick. Well, it might have been a month ago. Something always feels like its up with me. I guess because something always is.

It's just a head cold, sore throat and stuffy head so could be worst. I just have stuff I should have done by now. Me as always.

I should go to the doctor again. Probably I keep thinking my hormones have been out of wack. Just not sure but I think I should. Probably should to keep bugging them till I find out with what wrong with me.

I have been writing and busy. Not done much reading but I am going into another readathon on Monday so break not nesscasy a bad thing. Just wanted to have things done.

I also have your reviews in the works that I should finish. None British which why semi on the backburner but will be done soonish.

The writing is not in a stage of sharing but might be someday. It's novel idea that working on and still figuring out the contest entry. Just figuring stuff out. Thinking I've went too complex for short story.

P.S. probably spelling mistakes as I wrote this on my phone which has lacking speller checker.

Friday, 23 February 2018

Book Review: The Girls in the Garden by Lisa Jewell

Wet suites are so in.

Imagine that you live on a picturesque communal garden square, an oasis in urban London where your children run free, in and out of other people's houses. You've known your neighbors for years and you trust them. Implicitly. You think your children are safe. But are they really? On a midsummer night, as a festive neighborhood party is taking place, preteen Pip discovers her thirteen-year-old sister Grace lying unconscious and bloody in a hidden corner of a lush rose garden. What really happened to her? And who is responsible?

This book is also known as just 'The Girls', that is a bit generic so probably why they changed between countries.  This is the second book I've read and reviewed by Lisa Jewell.

There was a lot of characters to keep up with; there being a gang of kids and their respective parents. The POV changes focus staying in third person with letters from Pip to her father mixed in.

The setting is a bit interesting as it takes place in a private park, which we rarely leave, that connect the flats to each other. Also a strong sense of community as lot of the characters have know each other for decades and from childhood. With strain of new comers adding a flare.

In the start it was a bit confusing when "the sisters" were being discussed as there are two lots of sisters. I don't know if this because I listened to the audiobook and I wasn't listening at the right speed for me. Another audiobooks note is that there's is reference to pictures, that do appear in the novel, which I acquired the ebook of to check these. The Map is the only one that usefully but you don't need them for the story so the audiobook is a fine way to consume this story.

There's was two mysteries under running this story and we only get underwhelming solutions. Lots of red herrings and suspects. Some of it was weird and like hur? It works through and was okay. I wasn't that invested in some of the characters but I did feel for Pip's mother coming into this environment. 

Overall, I give this book 3/5 stars for plastic bags. This was alright thriller and enjoyed listening to it.  I think I prefer Then She Was Gone better. But if you like Lisa Jewell's other works you should like this at least.

Sunday, 18 February 2018

The Attic (or something)

Its in the attic again. I can hear it breathing. The gentle tap against the trap door leading down here. I don't want to deal with it again, but it I know if I leave it the tap will become a bang and the breathing will become screaming.

I thought I had finally got rid of it last time. It hadn't been back for months. The first it left for a week. The next for a day, but it was quiet again. It's like I'm turning a computer on and off that has more going on than a processing error. Like the fan is broken and it's only a matter of time until it burns down my house while I'm a sleep.

If only I can could just get rid of it for good. I could move, but I don't have the money. This place is so cheap because of it frequent visitor. If I was completely deaf I wouldn't know it was there. Until it came down. I think its came down before. It was the mysterious murders that made this place cheap. Fuck I have to move. Maybe if I value my life more I would. I'll be gone soon anyway. Only few more months. I wonder if it knows.

"So you're back," I say to the attic door. Hole? Panel? I'm not sure what it proper name is. It just continues it gentle tapping, rhythmic as a clock and just as annoying in silence. "I wish you could tell what you want, instead of playing this game." Was this a game? It felt like a board game that you forget about until the power goes off for some unexplained reason. Maybe the weather set it off too? Maybe sunshine.

It didn't respond. Just the same breath. I went to go get sage. I had been saging the house everyday, mainly cause I liked the smell. Me doing it never worked. That physic had some luck, but she had ran out screaming last time. Maybe she left with her. I would check up on her, but my phone fried and couldn't remember her last name.

I decided to leave the sage and go back to what I had been doing.

"Well, I'm going out." I had been getting ready to leave when it started again and talking to it was having no effect. Maybe I was lonely. No, I was definitely lonely. Well, I guess at work I would the sweet joy of customers screaming at me for no reason. I grabbed my bag left into the rest of the mansion.
My flat was part of a converted mansion that been snab nashed into flats. If a good job had been done (and without the mysterious thing in the attic) the place would high end, but instead it was confusing mess with random rooms blocked off each other and cheap doors wooden doors from the 80s joining others. I had never been in the attic to see if I was the only one access. But my neighbours don't seem to notice the breathing and the taping. Only the banging and screams so I doubt it. I guess that was the bonus of that unit.

All the units opened onto the grand hall with its double stairs and they had the senses not to separate. It made the places almost grand if you ignore the awkward outside doors on half the units, the others having the study originals that would probably do a better job if stopping someone breaking it.


I give up. Don't know where is going and it is dangerous close to midnight. I've sort of been writing. There's Queer writing contest and I'm going to go for it. I have no plot, just weird thoughts. Been doing the contemporaryathon so I'm off to read.