JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

Hermit by S.R. White

After a puzzling death in the wild bushlands of Australia, detective Dana Russo has just hours to interrogate the prime suspect – a silent, inscrutable man found at the scene of the crime, who disappeared without trace 15 years earlier.

But where has he been? Why won’t he talk? And exactly how dangerous is he? Without conclusive evidence to prove his guilt, Dana faces a desperate race against time to persuade him to speak. But as each interview spirals with fevered intensity, Dana must reckon with her own traumatic past to reveal the shocking truth . . .

S.R. White’s Hermit is an atmospheric and addictive psychological thriller. Set over the course of one day, detective Dana Russo has just 12 hours to interrogate the prime suspect in a murder case — a reclusive, mysterious man found at the scene of the crime, who hasn’t been seen or heard from in fifteen years and is reluctant to divulge any details to the police. Dana must follow her instincts to uncover the truth about the murder.

Set in rural Australia, S.R. White has captured the remote, secluded atmosphere of the desolate outback. Households are distanced but neighbours are nosy. Gossip runs rife through the town, and every family is hiding some sort of secret.

“Mike wasn’t veering towards the most common kinds of stabbings — drug arguments gone bad, gang wars, disrespected teenagers. Partly because they usually happened in the street, or at a location known to police already. Partly because those kinds of crimes rarely if ever happened just before dawn.”

With no CCTV, murder weapon or forensics to work with, Dana must rely on the suspect to reveal what happened, and it certainly makes for a unique crime novel.

Despite a great portion of the novel taking place within the walls of a police interview room, there are still a lot of divergence in setting. Dana and her colleagues interview different people around town — those relating to Lou and his wife, and those relating to the mysterious man found at the scene, Nathan.

The strength of this novel lies in the investigation — Dana illustrates great skill in reading other people, understanding their behaviour, and her ability to unpack Nathan’s psyche proves fascinating and enjoyable. Every conversation feels like a carefully constructed game of cat and mouse, tension rising and falling, pacing altering with every passing page. My attention never wavered.

“Because of the solitary stab wound, Dana had expected the knife to be on the floor. A single stab in panic, in the midst of a scuffle, usually prompted the stabber to drop the blade and flee. At the very least, they let go in shock at what they’d done, or in disbelief that the person in front of them was dying. That didn’t seem to have happened here.”

The concept of the ‘hermit’ is an interesting one, and executed in a way that felt fresh to the genre. I was fascinated to find out more about Nathan’s history. Where has he been for 15 years? How has he survived? Why did he leave and what dangers will suddenly arise now that he’s resurfaced?

Additionally, Hermit subtly explores themes of mental health and suicide. In the opening chapter, Dana is sitting atop a cliff contemplating plunging to her and death and trying to make it look like an accident. Every year, on this exact day, she takes annual leave and spends all day trying to decide if she should kill herself. It’s an incredibly vulnerable time for Dana, and when she’s thrust into a murder investigation unexpectedly, it throws her plans. Readers will feel a close kinship with Dana, even if they don’t necessarily relate to her. She’s intelligent and bolshy, but she also evokes empathy and sympathy in the reader.

“No response. Although he shivered: seemingly involuntarily, judging by his slight grimace. Any body language, any inflection — let alone any comment — appeared to him an unconscionable degree of exposure on his part. Perhaps he would prefer total darkness, or to be a disembodied voice: being visible and tangible was apparently unfamiliar, worrying.”

Admittedly, I found the ending a little unsatisfying. The concept of the ‘day’ that Dana keeps talking about, and what it means for her, fizzles out in the end, with no real resolution. Additionally, we’re set up to find out some of Dana’s backstory but it’s only partly revealed and feels like an info dump — unnatural, jolting.

Despite these minor flaws, I really enjoyed Hermit. An original, gripping and captivating thriller that readers will love. Recommended for fans of crime, thriller and mystery.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Hermit
S.R. White
September 2020
Hachette Book Publishers

Either Side of Midnight by Benjamin Stevenson

At 9.01 pm, TV presenter Sam Midford delivers the monologue for his popular current affairs show Midnight Tonight. He seems nervous and the crew are convinced he’s about to propose to his girlfriend live on air.

Instead, he pulls out a gun and shoots himself in the head.

Sam’s grief-stricken twin Harry is convinced his brother was murdered. But how can that be, when one million viewers witnessed Sam pull the trigger? Only Jack Quick, a disgraced television producer in the last days of a prison sentence, is desperate enough to take Harry’s money to investigate.

But as Jack starts digging, he finds a mystery more complex than he first assumed. And if he’s not careful, he’ll find out first-hand that there’s more than one way to kill someone . . .

Australian author Benjamin Stevenson publishes his second crime novel Either Side of Midnight, and it’s another page-turning, fast-paced, high-tension masterpiece. Either Side of Midnight wraps its claws around the reader, drawing them closer with each passing chapter. Readers will have no choice but the ride the rollercoaster of this novel.

Fans of Benjamin’s previous novel, Greenlight, will recognise disgraced TV documentarian Jack Quick as the protagonist. He’s been serving a prison sentence after the events in Greenlight, and when he’s released, he accepts the paid opportunity investigating news anchor Sam Midford’s suicide. Jack is thrust back into the world he’d left behind — another suspicious death, more deceitful suspects, and plenty more complex and complicated truths.

Either Side of Midnight explores the power of technology, and how easily words can influence others. Services aren’t yet equipped to handle criminal cases where technology is used as a weapon.

“Jack hadn’t been prepared enough to come back here. The whole building was triggering. The epileptic rotation of adverts. The rustle of the ground floor. Any of the bathrooms where, sometimes, at ten in the morning, Jack on his knees and a man snorting a line off the basin would lock eyes conspiratorially.”

Once again, we’re thrust back into Jack’s world, quickly remembering what made us like him so much the first time around. He’s flawed, but likeable. Relatable. He’s calculated and intelligent — quick to join the dots in the case. Dialogue is quick and blunt, Benjamin only using as many words as necessary to keep the pacing consistent, to keep the story moving forward.

Chapters end with revelations and unveilings, drawing the reader in and forcing them to keep reading. Benjamin is incredibly talented at dropping hints and clues without the reader feeling like they can guess the ending.

“Harry didn’t know if he slept. The night blurred past, timeless. Some moments he was counting the seconds, and others he seemed to zone out and when he zoned back… was the moon in a different spot? Time must have passed.”

Set in Sydney, an underlying theme is familial loyalty, and processing feelings of regret. Jack is still dealing with an accident from his childhood that left his brother in a permanent vegetive state and entirely reliant on care. Jack’s father has been forced to take on the burden of his son’s care while Jack has been in prison, and Jack feels deep regret.

There isn’t much I can fault with this novel. The cast of characters are three-dimensional and engrossing, the plot feels original and incredibly inviting, and Benjamin has incredible skill crafting scrumptious crime/thriller novels.

“It’s a cliche in film and television to present recent widows as brittle, frail. To have the make-up team use pale foundation, ghost-like, and smear dark circles under their eyes. Every time a widow opens a door in a film, they’ve just finished crying. The message being that, without their husband, they are barely keeping it together.”

Recommended for fans of crime and thriller. Readers don’t need to read Greenlight to understand or follow the events in this new novel — Either Side of Midnight functions as a standalone.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Either Side of Midnight
Benjamin Stevenson
September 2020
Penguin Book Publishers Australia

The Orphan of Good Hope by Roxane Dhand

Transport yourself from the canals of Amsterdam, across the waves, to the rough-and-tumble frontier town at the Cape of Good Hope.

In 1683 life is gruelling for the young women in Amsterdam’s civic orphanage. The sole light in Johanna Timmerman’s existence is her forbidden love for Frans, an orphan in the boys’ section who has a smile like sunshine. Then he is gone, whisked across the globe to the Dutch East India Company’s nascent colony at Good Hope.

Floriane Peronneau’s privileged world is pleasant and fulfilling until she discovers that it is all built on lies. Far from being the devoted gentleman he seems, her husband Claes is a womanizing degenerate who has led them to the edge of ruin. And the forces are closing in on him.

While Johanna’s love drives her to make a shocking bargain to secure passage to the Cape, Floriane is caught in a terrifying game of cat and mouse. The two women’s lives could not be more different. Yet, on the long, dangerous voyage to the southern tip of Africa, they will become the best of friends – and co-conspirators . . .

Roxane Dhand’s historical fiction novel The Orphan of Good Hope is a sweeping saga about family, inheritance, truth, friendship and fighting for what’s just. Featuring multiple settings and grandiose locations, The Orphan of Good Hope features two strong female protagonists as they fight for their place in a world dominated by dishonest men.

Setting is a leading strength in Roxane’s novel. Initially, we’re engulfed in the canals of Amsterdam; readers will feel enticed and seduced by the European location. Johanna, in particular, feels most at home here. She’s hopeful and uplifted by those around her, and she’s falling in love with fellow orphan Frans. There’s a lot ahead of her.

Whilst we do spend a portion of the book in South Africa, the time spent aboard the ship is where Johanna and Floriane’s journeys really flourish. Here, there’s opportunity. Johanna is determined to pursue the connection with her love interest, and Floriane endeavours to extricate herself from her cheating, thieving husband.

I do think there was more scope to incorporate the weather. In all locations, most scenes are set indoors but there still felt like a distinct lack of temperature or scenery embedded into the chapters. How did the bitter snap of Amsterdam make the ladies feel? And how does this compare the windswept journey aboard the ship? Did they feel more free? And in South Africa, the heat? The landscape? I felt like Roxane never really focused on any of these elements, and it was a missed opportunity to set the locations apart.

“Almost eight years ago, Johanna had made this journey in reverse, but her memories were no help now. She followed behind as they turned right on Kalverstraat, crossed over Dam Square with its town hall and weighing house, and traipsed across a humped bridge to where people, crowds of them, shouted and jostled on the greasy cobbles.”

Split into three parts, The Orphan of Good Hope is written in intimate third person POV, allowing the reader to move between Johanna and Floriane’s perspectives. Johanna is young, but intelligent. She’s mature and measured. She takes chances; she’s distracted by love and the future, but she’s also cautious about her surroundings and her unknown future. Floriane, on the other hand, is older but a little daft. She’s oblivious to her husband’s secrets, and a little slow to catch on. It likely stems from her privilege in society. Whilst she eventually forges a path for herself, determined to leave her husband behind, it did take a bit of time to warm to Floriane. She’s not as relatable.

At times, the POV was a little stilted — the transitions weren’t always seamless — particularly because for most of the novel, Floriane and Johanna were in the same location so it was a little tougher to initially tell the two perspectives apart.

Despite this, I did really enjoy The Orphan of Good Hope. I always gravitate towards historical fiction, particularly any that have strong female protagonists. The exotic locations drew me into the story, and the plot and twists kept me turning the pages. I was determined to find out how Floriane and Johnana’s stories would resolve, and what their lives would look like at the end of the book.

“He crept away without interrupting them, but anger was boiling within him. Backed into a recess at the side of the ship, Claes concealed himself in darkness and chewed on his lip till blood seeped into his mouth. Slipping his hand inside his coat, he fingered his short-bladed dagger in its sheath at his belt.”

Layered within the story are hints of violence, betrayal, mystery and danger. Women weren’t safe in the 1600s, no matter where they were. Men couldn’t always be trusted, and Johanna has to be incredibly vigilant and aware of her surroundings, the threat of danger looming, forever on the cusp.

Floriane also finds herself in some potentially dangerous situations, particularly when she’s working against her husband and trying to catch him out for his thievery and dishonesty. Roxane builds tension with slow and measured scenes — The Orphan of Good Hope is a slow-build, a historical novel simmering with intrigue and possibility.

“Time on board ship passed slowly but, still, days eventually turned into weeks, and there were even moments when time got away from Johanna.”

Recommended for fans of historical fiction, and sweeping sagas with a large cast and a faraway setting.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Orphan of Good Hope
Roxane Dhand
September 2020
Penguin Book Publishers Australia

I Give My Marriage A Year by Holly Wainwright

Lou and Josh have been together for 14 years. They share two kids, a mortgage, careers and plenty of history. Now, after a particularly fraught Christmas, Lou is ready to ask herself: is this marriage worth hanging on to?

Every month for a year, Lou sets a different test for their relationship – from daily sex to brutal honesty – to help her decide if she should stay or go. Secrets are exposed, old wounds reopened and a true-to-life suburban love story unfolds.

I Give My Marriage a Year paints a sharply accurate, often hilarious picture of a modern Australian marriage. Lou and Josh are a couple on the edge, and their efforts to bring their relationship back from the brink will resonate with anyone who has ever asked themselves: is this enough?

Whose side will you take? Who deserves a second chance? And will Josh and Lou stay together or split for good?

Holly Wainwright’s I Give My Marriage A Year is contemporary women’s fiction spanning twelve months. We meet Lou and Josh after they’ve been together for 14 years and are raising two daughters. Frustrated and exhausted, Lou is giving herself 12 months to decide if she wants to stay married to Josh.

Each month, Lou sets different tasks to help her determine the longevity of their relationship. Sex every day. Therapy. Fun. Positivity. Honesty. Etc. And at the end, she has to make a decision about the future of their relationship.

The novel is well-written, well-rounded, with brief but illuminating snapshots into Lou and Josh’s lives. Each chapter evokes sympathy and empathy for the characters, presenting alternate sides to the marriage and allowing the reader to delve into the foundation of their relationship.

“This was the kind of thought he used to share with Lou. Once, she would have laughed if he said that out loud to her. Looking towards the car, Josh could tell by the set of her shoulders that she would choose note to find that funny these days. Especially not now.”

Truthfully, the characters are wildly unlikable — Lou is probably the most unlikable. She’s bitter, unapologetic. And whilst her husband isn’t perfect, I couldn’t focus much on his character because I was so distracted by my own dislike of Lou. The only likeable character in the whole book was Lou’s best friend Gretchen.

And yet, I liked this book? I kept reading? I found myself incredibly invested in their marriage? I found myself recognising others in their relationship — in their fights, their arguments, their means of pushing through an uncomfortable moment. I don’t think you can write this kind of book with likeable people in mind. Relationships are messy and ugly, and your partner sees the worst in you. We’re seeing the worst in Lou and Josh.

“They used to talk about everything, the two of them, lying in bed. It was his favourite place to be in the world, on his side, looking at Lou, listening to her talk. He liked to play with her hair while she told him stories about the kids she was teaching, about her friends, about the news, and politics.”

Stylistically, the book is a bit overwhelming. Not only do we flick back and forth between Lou and Josh in the present, we also flick back and forth between Lou and Josh in the past. So essentially, it feels like there are four timelines working to construct the history of their relationship. Not every chapter felt necessary — not every chapter felt seamless.

It does feel like this is a unique addition to the contemporary women’s fiction genre. So many stories are written about the start of a relationship, or the end of one, but what about the middle? What about when it’s been fourteen years and you’re struggling to decide whether to stay or to go? Many readers, all at different stages of a relationship, will gravitate towards this novel.

“If Lou was curious about why Josh was suddenly making plans for them, after more than a decade of her being the one who made social arrangements, organised ‘date nights’ and controlled the calendar, she didn’t say so.”

The secondary characters contributed an added layer of depth to the story and its characters. Lou and Josh’s attitude towards love, relationships, and resolving conflict can be seen in their parents’ relationships as well.

Additionally, any readers pursuing some sort of creative career may recognise themselves in Josh. He was an aspiring musician but then took a job in carpentry to help Lou with bills, and building a family. Years later, he feels like he missed an opportunity to pursue a career he really wanted.

Absorbing and intoxicating. Readership skews female, 25+

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

I Give My Marriage A Year
Holly Wainwright
September 2020
Pan Macmillan Publishers

The Morbids by Ewa Ramsey

Caitlin is convinced she’s going to die.

Two years ago she was a normal twenty-something with a blossoming career and a plan to go travelling with her best friend, until a car accident left her with a deep, unshakable understanding that she’s only alive by mistake.

Caitlin deals with these thoughts by throwing herself into work, self-medicating with alcohol, and attending a support group for people with death-related anxiety, informally known as the Morbids.

But when her best friend announces she’s getting married in Bali, and she meets a handsome doctor named Tom, Caitlin must overcome her fear of death and learn to start living again.

Beautiful, funny, and universally relatable this story of hidden loneliness and the power of compassion and companionship reminds us that life is an adventure truly worth living.

Ewa Ramsey’s literary novel The Morbids captures the crippling fear of death, and explores mental illness and anxiety and the powerful hold they have over their captives.

Caitlin walked away from a car accident completely unscathed, whilst the driver was killed instantly. Ever since, she’s felt death’s presence hovering over her — she’s convinced she’s going to die. And every Tuesday, she attends a community group called The Morbids, where she communicates with other people who also fear an untimely demise.

When we meet her, one might be fooled into thinking she’s coping. She regularly attends these therapy meetings, but the therapists aren’t overly helpful or directive, and it feels like being around other people constantly anxious about death might actually be stopping Caitlin from healing and moving forward with her life.

And whilst she successfully holds down a job as a waitress at a restaurant, she’s got a strained relationship with her family — who don’t sympathise for her situation, nor do they approve of her job — and she’s been slowly distancing herself away from her best friend, Lina. Her best friend’s getting married in Bali and Caitlin can’t bring herself to organise the flights or accommodation, let alone ask her boss for the time off. She’s a ticking time bomb.

“There was nothing wrong with me, nothing wrong with not believing in fairytales or happily-ever-afters; nothing wrong with not needing anyone else to make you happy. I was just being careful. The thought startled me, unsettled me.”

Structurally, the chapters move between past and present, but so does the prose within each chapter. Caitlin’s mind is scattered, a little uneven and also unreliable. Ewa has cleverly constructed this novel to embody the chaos going on in Caitlin’s head, whilst also threading a story that is easy to follow and absorbing to read.

Ewa explores mental illness and anxiety with great care and compassion; Caitlin’s state of mind fluctuates as we progress through the novel. The impending wedding in Bali, and her budding romance with a handsome doctor propels forward her day-to-day and when everything reaches a head, Caitlin is forced to confront her illness.

Caitlin’s friendship with Lina is an interesting one; Caitlin hides herself away from her best friend, even though she’s probably the one person who can help Caitlin at this time in her life. Perhaps Caitlin feels like a burden, perhaps she struggles to articulate her own thoughts and feelings — perhaps she feels like she can fix herself. Readers will recognise parts of themselves in Caitlin, but they may also recognise a friend or family member. Mental illness is complex and at times, all-encompassing. This book might be a comforting read for some, and perhaps uplifting for others.

“In the year or so I’d been coming, there had been a lot of new faces. Most only came once. They were sent by doctors or shrinks or their local mental health service, but you didn’t need a referral and it was free, right down to the tea and coffee, so occasionally we’d get tourists…Death was huge on Facebook, if you knew where to look.”

I do think this book is suited to seasoned readers, not reluctant ones. This is not the book you pick up for a beach read, or an aeroplane read. It’s literary fiction and tough going in parts. At times, the pacing is quite slow and the plot a little non-existent. I suspect reluctant adult readers may pick this up and then put it down a third of the way through.

But for fans of literary fiction? Slow-burn character-driven stories? Debut novel The Morbids is a welcome addition to your bookshelf.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Morbids
Ewa Ramsey
September 2020
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers