JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Others by Mark Brandi

On his eleventh birthday, Jacob’s father gives him a diary. To write about things that happen. About what he and his father do on their farm. About the sheep, the crop, the fox and the dam. But Jacob knows some things should not be written down. Some things should not be remembered.

The only things he knows for sure are what his father has taught him. Sheltered, protected, isolated. But who is his father protecting him from? And how far will his father go to keep the world at bay?

All too soon, Jacob will learn that, sometimes, people do the most terrible things.

Firmly establishing himself as a master of crime and thriller, Mark Brandi’s latest novel The Others is another haunting tale.

Set on remote farmland and largely written in diary form, The Others follows an 11-year-old boy as he documents his day-to-day interactions with his overly protective but secretive father. Just who are the others he keeps talking about? And is Jacob actually in any real danger?

“So I have to stay home, and I have to stay in my room. It’s just in case the others come. I don’t mind staying home so much, because it gives me time to do my own things. Sometimes, I hear gunshots from somewhere in the bush. It must be a long way away, because it takes a long time for sound to travel.”

The Others reminds me a little of Room by Emma Donoghue. We only get snippets of the truth because we’re experiencing everything through the mind of an innocent child. Jacob looks to his father as protector, however his father is anything but.

As the reader, you know that Jacob is being fed lies and you witness him start to realise that his beloved parental figure might not be entirely truthful. It’s about following the story as the tension builds, pacing increases and you wonder how the tale is going to unfold.

Strengths lie in Jacob’s voice – he’s young and innocent, and quite naïve. But he’s not annoying or frustrating as a narrator. He is both insightful and present within his surroundings. His childlike voice offered a new perspective to Brandi’s novels, which haven’t yet delved into this kind of protagonist yet. It felt like something unique to his repertoire, and fans of his work will appreciate the pivot.

“He cooked it good this time. He always cooks the meat and I do the porridge. That’s the deal. He served it up and it was nicer, with the crispy bits, and the meat cooked right through.”

I did find that the book ended with a lot of unanswered questions, particularly around the women out hiking. The woman seemed to know Jacob’s father, so I’m not sure why he felt so threatened by her. And it perhaps felt a little unrealistic that the woman managed to find Jacob’s cabin so easily, when later in the novel we are told just how incredibly remote and difficult to discover it actually is?

And was Jacob’s mother actually sick? Jacob’s memory seemed to imply she was bedridden for a long time, but the revelation at the end seems to contradict that. Perhaps there was a bit of scope to reveal some of that information, particularly during those short sections where we’re with Jacob when he’s an adult.

Also, when is this novel set? It’s not necessary to know this, but talks of sickness and plague and illness made me think this was all fictional, but another reviewer interpreted this novel to be set post-COVID.

“The soft eyes are worse than when he gets angry. They hang around like the fog. Like the fog on the hill in winter. That’s what it’s like. But when he gets angry, even if the whites of his eyes scare me, it passes pretty quick.”

Overall a really entertaining novel and very quick to read – more pages than paragraphs, it felt. I ripped through this in one afternoon and really enjoyed it. The Others is engaging and atmospheric, and recommended for readers of crime, thriller and mystery. Readership skews 25+

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

The Others
Mark Brandi
July 2021
Hachette Book Publishers

Sixteen Horses by Greg Buchanan

She thought of the horses, of the eyes in the earth.
She thought about that number, sixteen. That strange number . . .

Near the dying English seaside town of Ilmarsh, local police detective Alec Nichols discovers sixteen horses’ heads on a farm, each buried with a single eye facing the low winter sun. After forensic veterinarian Cooper Allen travels to the scene, the investigators soon uncover evidence of a chain of crimes in the community – disappearances, arson and mutilations – all culminating in the reveal of something deadly lurking in the ground itself.

In the dark days that follow, the town slips into panic and paranoia. Everything is not as it seems. Anyone could be a suspect. And as Cooper finds herself unable to leave town, Alec is stalked by an unseen threat. The two investigators race to uncover the truth behind these frightening and insidious mysteries – no matter the cost.

Sixteen Horses is a story of enduring guilt, trauma and punishment, set in a small seaside community the rest of the world has left behind . . .

Greg Buchanan’s debut thriller Sixteen Horses is set in a small English seaside community, and follows the discovery of 16 severed horse heads on a remote farm, partially buried. The mystery soon unravels into much more than just murdered animals, drawing the reader in with secrets and a multi-layered crime.

Everyone holds secrets in the secluded town of Ilmarsh — marriages are fraught, relationships are tested, and there’s a lot for local police detective Alec Nichols to uncover. The initial crime feels quite unique to the genre, and the story takes you on quite a journey as you work to figure out who killed the sixteen horses.

“The killer had secured the horses in the ground by digging holes, dropping the heads within these holes, caking soil around the flesh, then spreading loose dirt to help the skin blend in with the surrounding earth. The purpose was to delay them being found, but not indefinitely. To make the realisation itself a moment of power.”

Similar to other rural crime novels, the strength lies in the setting. The dry, desolate, stretched town where nothing really happens but everyone manages to possess some dark secret.

Stylistically, the book feels quite jagged — stop-and-start. Quotes are scattered throughout, as well as short brief chapters. Each passing day is clearly marked, and some chapters towards the end require a re-read to grasp masked plot — twists you missed or didn’t see coming. Greg’s writing style feels very poetic and lyrical, keeping pace on each page and maintaining intrigue. There’s a dreaded feeling of foreboding as you make your way through the story, which is the sign of a great crime novel.

The ending will satisfy readers.

“The teenage angled away from the rising sun. Her whole face convulsed, forcing a sneeze out onto the damp mossy rock beside her. In the early light, droplets dribbled down into the miscoloured marsh below. The void behind her nose ached. She was alone.”

Admittedly, I did confuse some of the secondary characters with each other. Whilst written in third person, the POV does shift between quite a few different characters and after a while they all start to merge together. Perhaps the number of perspectives could’ve been stripped back?

“The journey took a few hours, enough for the specialist to feel queasy without travel sickness pills. Trains weren’t normally too bad, and driving herself, that was fine, but the carriages heaved at slight angles along the rails. Her body, her mind — they lost their balance. The world sank into nausea.”

Evocative, intelligent and haunting, crime and thriller fans will love Sixteen Horses. For those who loved The Dry and Scrublands. The genre skews towards gothic, and readership skews 20+

Warning: extreme animal abuse.

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

Sixteen Horses
Greg Buchanan
June 2021
Pan Macmillan Book Publishers

Still by Matt Nable

Darwin, Summer, 1963.

The humidity sat heavy and thick over the town as Senior Constable Ned Potter looked down at a body that had been dragged from the shallow marshland. He didn’t need a coroner to tell him this was a bad death. He didn’t know then that this was only the first. Or that he was about to risk everything looking for answers.

Late one night, Charlotte Clark drove the long way home, thinking about how stuck she felt, a 23-year-old housewife, married to a cowboy who wasn’t who she thought he was. The days ahead felt suffocating, living in a town where she was supposed to keep herself nice and wait for her husband to get home from the pub. Charlotte stopped the car, stepped out to breathe in the night air and looked out over the water to the tangled mangroves. She never heard a sound before the hand was around her mouth.

Both Charlotte and Ned are about to learn that the world they live in is full of secrets and that it takes courage to fight for what is right. But there are people who will do anything to protect themselves and sometimes courage is not enough to keep you safe.

Set in 1963 Darwin, Matt Nable’s Still is a rural crime drama that explores corruption and violence within the police force, racism, and the murder and cover-up of a local Indigenous man.

Matt’s strength lies in the story’s setting and atmosphere — the dry, humid, sticky Northern Territory. The crocodile-infested marshlands. The temperature and the desolate landscape leap off the page, contributing to a visceral and compelling rural crime story for fans of The Dry and Scrublands.

“Ned Potter, a fishing rod resting loosely on his hip, looked north. The Timor Sear in front of him, bumpy and moving in all directions, was rebounding in torn crests off the weathered edges of the rock platform he stood on. His short sandy hair moved with the wind across the sharp part on the left side of his scalp.”

Stylistically, the novel is written in third person and switches POV between policeman Ned Potter, a law-abiding but alcohol-addicted policeman who refuses to pin a local murder on two innocent men, and the young Charlotte Clark, whose marriage to her husband is not what she was anticipating. She feels trapped in her own home, craving more than the constricting life with her flawed and cheating partner.

My favourite storyline was Charlotte Clark — her storyline and her chance encounter with a beaten man propels the story forward. Whilst Ned is an interesting character, and the corruption in the town is an interesting story to unravel, I don’t think Ned could’ve carried this novel. Charlotte expands the story and the plot, and female readers may find themselves able to relate to elements of Charlotte’s life.

“Before Charlotte turned around, she saw a gust of wind sweep over the swamp and spoil the black slate of still water. The moonlight bounced off the disturbance and she caught the glowing eyes of a crocodile just before they sank beneath the water.”

Because it’s quite clear who is responsible for the murder quite early on, and because this novel is more about uncovering police corruption, Still feels quite unique in the crime genre. We’re following these characters to find out if justice will be served — this isn’t a whodunnit kind of story. Whilst this novel won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, there is plenty with these pages to keep a reader turning.

A small flaw but I did find a lot of the dialogue very unrealistic, particularly between Ned and the other policemen, and also the Mayor. The dialogue felt quite over-the-top, caricature and not at all natural. I felt that some of the masterminds behind the corruption could’ve been a bit more clever in their conversations — a bit more intimidating and coy, choosing their words carefully. As a result, some of these secondary characters, particularly the villains, felt a little underdeveloped and like cardboard cut-outs. I think there was room for more depth there, particularly in how they communicate with others.

“Ned sat across from Senior Sergeant Riley in the waiting room outside Mayor Landry’s office. They didn’t speak. Ned didn’t even look at Riley but could feel his glare. And he could hear his tongue running across his gums, loosening the remains of what he’d just eaten.”

Descriptive and gripping, Still is recommended for fans of crime, thriller and mystery. Readership skews male, 18+

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

Still
Matt Nable
June 2021
Hachette Book Publishers

Before You Knew My Name by Jacqueline Bublitz

This is not just another novel about a dead girl.

When she arrived in New York on her 18th birthday carrying nothing but $600 cash and a stolen camera, Alice Lee was looking for a fresh start. Now, just one month later, she is the city’s latest Jane Doe, an unidentified murder victim.

Ruby Jones is also trying to start over; she travelled halfway around the world only to find herself lonelier than ever. Until she finds Alice’s body by the Hudson River.

From this first, devastating encounter, the two women form an unbreakable bond. Alice is sure that Ruby is the key to solving the mystery of her life – and death. And Ruby – struggling to forget what she saw that morning – finds herself unable to let Alice go. Not until she is given the ending she deserves.

Before You Knew My Name doesn’t ask whodunnit. Instead, this powerful, hopeful novel asks: Who was she? And what did she leave behind? The answers might surprise you.

Jacqueline Bublitz’s debut novel Before You Knew My Name is compelling and powerful literary fiction about murder and grief, but also about what happens to those left behind after someone is killed.

Two woman arrive in New York City on the same day, and although they don’t know each other, their lives soon intersect under tragic circumstances. Thirty-six year old Ruby, running away from love, discovers the body of 18-year old Alice Lee. Raped and murdered in the early hours of the morning, Alice is about to be the latest statistic of women murdered in NYC.

The book switches focus between Alice and Ruby, as we work to find out what happened to Alice in her final days, and how Ruby will cope in the wake of the murder.

“In the beginning, I disappeared on purpose. Extricated myself from a life I didn’t want, just like Ruby did. But unlike Ruby, I didn’t tell anyone where I went. Not even my best friend. I let Tammy think I had stayed right where she left me; I wanted to skip out of my old life unseen. And if certain people stayed on my skin, if they came along in my suitcase uninvited, at least they wouldn’t be able to cause any fresh wounds.”

Whilst Before You Knew Me Name features elements of crime and thriller in the story — peppered but present — I wouldn’t describe this as crime fiction. It’s a character-driven story that dances around the murder, building tension with each passing chapter as we come closer to understanding Alice’s final hours, and how that will intersect with Ruby’s story.

Jacqueline’s writing is a key strength here. It’s reflective and observant — mature. Alice presents this all-knowing voice, which invites the reader in and expertly guides them until the final page. The novel explores so much more than just love and loss. It’s about connection and family, and about someone else choosing where your life is going in a split second. It’s about how to take stock of her life, even when you’re going through the worst time, and choose for yourself how you want to continue.

“I am tired of beautiful things making me sad. I should like to love something without turning it over and discovering exposed wires, cheap parts on the other side. For the first time, I wish he wasn’t so insistent on telling me the truth of things.”

Initially, it does take a couple of chapters to grow comfortable with the style of narration. The novel is written posthumously from Alice’s perspective, but in the midst of telling her own story, she does intermittently focus in on Ruby’s story. Switching between past and present, Alice seems to be all-knowing, offering reflections on Ruby’s life with an intimate perspective.

So whilst the writing is incredibly affecting and delicate, and the story is told in the best possible format, the stylistic elements of the writing — in particular the POV — do take a bit of time to get used to.

“Later, when I look back at all the beginnings that turned me, inch by inch, toward the river, I will see this was the gentlest of them. Shaking the soft, warm hand of an old man, and then a tour of his apartment, with a large, brown dog leading the way.”

Exceptional literary writing that will sit with you for days after completion, Before You Knew My Name is powerful and devastating. As hard as it is to ‘enjoy’ something of this subject matter, it is a phenomenal read. A comparison title would be Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones.

Readership skews female, all ages.

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

Before You Knew My Name
Jacqueline Bublitz
May 2021
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

The Hiding Place by Jenny Quintana

Some houses have their secrets. But so do some people . . .

Abandoned as a baby in the hallway of a shared house in London, Marina has never known her parents, and the circumstances of her birth still remain a mystery.

Now an adult, Marina has returned to the house where it all started, determined to find out who she really is. But the walls of this house hold more than memories, and Marina’s reappearance hasn’t gone unnoticed by the other tenants. Someone is watching Marina. Someone who knows the truth . . .

Jenny Quintana’s The Hiding Place is a crime thriller about an abandoned baby in a share house, and that child’s search for the truth about her parents.

The Hiding Place switches between three POVs — Connie in 1964, and Marina and Eva in 1991. Marina, who was abandoned as a baby, moves into the house she was discovered in to try and find out who her parents were. Eva, her new neighbour, is an emotionally unstable, anxious woman with long-buried traumatic memories. Slowly, we come to understand how these three stories correlate, and why Marina was abandoned.

“The sky hangs low and claustrophobic and Marina loosens her collar despite the chill. She has an odd, prickling feeling as if she’s being watched, but the houses are as silent as they were last night, their windows shuttered — and when she looks back at number 24, there is no shift in curtains, no one looking out.”

There’s quite a large cast of characters in this novel — a lot of people moving in and out of the storyline — and Jenny captures each character and role with enough unique personality that makes it easy for the reader to follow. There are plenty of rooms in the house, and therefore a lot of threads for Marina to follow in her quest for the truth.

Jenny always crafts a premise that will entice readers. The abandoned baby is not the only crime to be uncovered in this novel, and Jenny captures a claustrophobic, eerie setting very well. What secrets and memories does this house hold? In a way, the house feels like another character in the book, holding on to its own secrets and slowly releasing them when necessary.

One of the things I love most about Jenny’s books is how she concludes her chapters. There’s either something reflective about the ending, forcing you to feel the emotion she’s working to transmit, or it’s a cliffhanger that forces you to keep turning the page because you want to see how that thread continues.

“Was Connie in desperate straits? She wasn’t sure. And perhaps she could solve the problem herself. She had heard that moving heavy furniture might bring on a miscarriage, or flinging yourself down the stairs. There were poisons that would flush the baby clean away.”

Admittedly, Marina does feel like the weakest character of the three. Eva’s personality immediately draws you in — she’s mysterious and plagued by childhood memories. You immediately want to know more. And your heart breaks for Connie. She’s hopeful and ambitious, but incredibly naive. And she’s very much in love. Marina’s search for the truth comes across a bit stiff at times, the storyline blocking her personality from shining. She comes across unfeeling, unemotional, devoid of compassion. She’s determined and I admire that, but I found her characterisation to be lacking.

Additionally, the ending was a bit of a letdown. For such a slow burn of a novel, I was expecting big twists or surprises — neither happened. Whilst some people withheld the truth, the circumstances around Marina’s birth and abandonment weren’t quite as enticing as I’d hoped.

“At school, when she had managed to get there, she had been silent and serene, unemotional, a remarkable musical talent. The bullies hadn’t understood her so had left her alone. At music college, she had taken on a similar persona, staying in her room at halls and avoiding communal areas like the students’ union and bar.”

An engrossing tale of long-lost secrets, The Hiding Place is the perfect rainy day read. Recommended for fans of crime, thriller and mystery. Readers of women’s fiction will also enjoy this.

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

The Hiding Place
Jenny Quintana
April 2021
Pan Macmillan Publishers