In honor of the Netflix series, which by the way is just as dreadful as the book, I pulled out this old chestnut from 2017. Roasted…
This was billed as psychological suspense, so I got sucked in. Though it has moments of brilliance, in the end, it falls flat, partially because the main character is so disappointingly dumb and predictable. She is presented with plenty of evidence about someone and yet refuses to believe her own senses. Then there is the ending, which is just crazy. I am willing to suspend my disbelief, but I need something to hang that suspension on other than wild fancy. I knew what was going to happen WAY before I got to the end, since the writer telegraphed it, and I was still disappointed, because I was hoping I was wrong. Sadly, I wasn’t. I wouldn’t recommend this unless you are a huge fan of paranormal romance, and when I say huge, I mean you still like Twilight…