Behind Her Eyesby Sarah Pinborough
AN INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
“A dark, electrifying page-turner with a corker of an ending.” —Harlan Coben, #1 New York Times bestselling author
"An eerie thriller…Pinborough keeps us guessing about just who’s manipulating whom – until the ending reveals that/b>/b>/i>/b>/b>/i>
AN INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
“A dark, electrifying page-turner with a corker of an ending.” —Harlan Coben, #1 New York Times bestselling author
"An eerie thriller…Pinborough keeps us guessing about just who’s manipulating whom – until the ending reveals that we’ve been wholly complicit in this terrifying mind game.” —The New York Times Book Review
“Deserves its own warning label…Avoid any contact with the growing buzz concerning the novel’s ingenious, to-die-for twist.” —BookPage
Why is everyone talking about the ending of Sarah Pinborough's Behind Her Eyes?
Louise is a single mom, a secretary, stuck in a modern-day rut. On a rare night out, she meets a man in a bar and sparks fly. Though he leaves after they kiss, she’s thrilled she finally connected with someone.
When Louise arrives at work on Monday, she meets her new boss, David. The man from the bar. The very married man from the bar…who says the kiss was a terrible mistake, but who still can’t keep his eyes off Louise.
And then Louise bumps into Adele, who’s new to town and in need of a friend. But she also just happens to be married to David. And if you think you know where this story is going, think again, because Behind Her Eyes is like no other book you’ve read before.
David and Adele look like the picture-perfect husband and wife. But then why is David so controlling? And why is Adele so scared of him?
As Louise is drawn into David and Adele’s orbit, she uncovers more puzzling questions than answers. The only thing that is crystal clear is that something in this marriage is very, very wrong. But Louise can’t guess how wrong—and how far a person might go to protect their marriage’s secrets.
In Behind Her Eyes, Sarah Pinborough has written a novel that takes the modern day love triangle and not only turns it on its head, but completely reinvents it in a way that will leave readers reeling.
British author Pinborough (Murder) effectively shifts perspectives between two complex characters in this twisty psychological thriller set in North London. Louise Barnsley is chagrined to learn that the hunky man who kissed her in a bar turns out to be her new, married boss, therapist David Martin. Louise and David agree that the flirtation would be just a onetime thing, but their interactions become more complicated when David’s gorgeous wife, Adele, bumps into Louise and cultivates her friendship. Sections set in different time frames provide an ominous backdrop for the triangle, with references to dirt under fingernails and things having been done “that could not be undone.” Despite her deepening bond with Adele, Louise is unable to successfully repress her attraction to David, even as he shows sides of his personality that disturb her. Pinborough will keep even veteran genre readers guessing about which members of the trio, if any, are providing trustworthy accounts of their pasts and presents. Agent: Veronique Baxter, David Higham Associates (U.K.). (Jan.)
“Pinborough shrewdly transforms a romantic suspense novel into an eerie thriller calculated to creep you out…Pinborough keeps us guessing about just who’s manipulating whom – until the ending reveals that we’ve been wholly complicit in this terrifying mind game.”
The New York Times Book Review
“The season’s twistiest thriller…Like all powerful over-the-counter drugs, Behind Her Eyes deserves its own warning label... mindblowing, genre-bending, breakthrough psychological thriller…avoid any contact with the growing buzz concerning the novel’s ingenious, to-die-for twist.”
"A masterpiece of suspense...A rare joy...Creates a sense of disorientation and dread that is highly satisfying. But it is with the plot, so tight and yet also intricate, that Pinborough shines. No detail or character is extraneous. Every word comes back into play and matters as the story moves to the disturbing conclusion that everyone is talking about...Readers will likely never see it coming...Give this intense book to patrons freely, but especially target those who are fatigued with the current spate of female-driven psychological suspense. It will be enough to shake things up for them."
Booklist (starred review)
"Behind Her Eyes is a cunning puzzle-box of a novel, a masterfully engineered thriller that brings to mind Hitchcock at his most uncanny, and Rendell at her most relentless. Lean and mean, dark and disturbing, this is the kind of novel that takes over your life. Sarah Pinborough slays."
Joe Hill, New York Times bestselling author of NOS4A2
“Behind Her Eyes is a dark, electrifying page-turner with a corker of an ending. Sarah Pinborough is about to become your new obsession.”
Harlan Coben, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Fool Me Once
“The strongest, most unsettling thriller of the year, with a final twist destined to provoke arguments for years to come. Read it now before someone spoils the ending for you.”
John Connolly, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Charlie Parker novels
“Behind Her Eyes is as twisty as a steep mountain road, and just as nerve-wracking. The shocks just keep coming around those blind curves.”
Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse series
“First you’ll want to know the ending. Then you’ll HAVE to know the ending. And when you close the book with paper cuts from turning pages so fast you'll want everyone you know to read it too so you can talk about it. You know the rules to Fight Club. Well the rules to Behind Her Eyes are simple. Get a copy by any means you can. And do not tell ANYONE how it ends.”
Simon Toyne, author of The Searcher
“A modern love triangle with so many mind-screws you start questioning if maybe this particular triangle has more than three points. It's funny, it's cold, it's modern. A master-class in juggling moods and the two sides to every story. And, wow, that ending. Pinborough's latest had me questioning everything. And the answers that eventually came frightened me more than the unknown preceding them. I loved Behind Her Eyes. It's a modern love triangle thriller and it would make one helluva movie.”
Josh Malerman, bestselling author of Bird Box
“Twisty psychological thriller…Pinborough will keep even veteran genre readers guessing.”
“A deliciously dark love story that will keep you guessing. Shocking, gleeful, and thrilling, welcome to the world of Sarah Pinborough.”
Sarah Langan, three-time Bran Stoker Award winning novelist
"If Behind Her Eyes isn't the thriller of the year, there is no justice. Hugely entertaining, utterly compelling and the ending will leave you reeling."
Sarah Lotz, author of The Three
“Walking the tightrope between psychological and supernatural thriller with effortless ease and delicacy, Behind Her Eyes has everything a thriller needs: fully realized characters, peerless writing, a tank of a plot that sustains the suspense right to the end, and a whammy of a finale that hits you like a cartoon piano falling onto a rabbit’s head. It takes a lot to catch me out, but this one did. It’ll get you, too...”
Joanne Harris, author of Chocolat
“The second twist turns the creepy factor up to 11 and is a total wrong-footer. #WTFthatending indeed – the sort that makes you go back tothe beginning to check if it all pans out. And it does.”
“Builds and builds to an ending so satisfying, I wanted to light a cigarette afterwards (and I gave up smoking two years ago). When the twist did come, it was so twisty, so creepy, that I wanted to recoil even as I feverishly turned the page...In a really crowded thriller market, with new trends almost upon us, Behind Her Eyes leaves its competition trailing in the dust. It will also be one of the most talked about books this spring, so I suggest that you read it in tandem with friends or book group so you can discuss and theorise as you go along. But whatever you do, don’t give away that ending.”RedOnline
Positioned as a blockbuster and given a shout-out on Day of Dialog's Editors' Picks panel, this new work features psychologist David and wife Adele. They seem like the perfect couple, but David's new secretary thinks that something is creepily off. Pinborough's The Language of Dying won the British Fantasy Award for Best Novella.
- Flatiron Books
- Publication date:
- Sold by:
- NOOK Book
- Sales rank:
- File size:
- 3 MB
Read an Excerpt
Behind Her Eyes
By Sarah Pinborough
Flatiron BooksCopyright © 2017 Sarah Pinborough
All rights reserved.
Pinch myself and say I AM AWAKE once an hour. Look at my hands. Count my fingers. Look at clock (or watch), look away, look back. Stay calm and focused. Think of a door.CHAPTER 2
It was nearly light when it was finally done. A streaky gray wash across the canvas of sky. Dry leaves and mud clung to his jeans, and his weak body ached as his sweat cooled in the damp, chill air. A thing had been done that could not be undone. A terrible necessary act. An ending and a beginning now knotted up forever. He expected the hues of the world to change to reflect that, but the earth and heavens remained the same muted shades, and there was no tremble of anger from the trees. No weeping whisper of wind. No siren wailed in the distance. The woods were just the woods, and the dirt was just the dirt. He let out a long breath and it felt surprisingly good. Clean. A new dawn. A new day.
He walked in silence toward the remains of the house in the distance. He didn't look back.CHAPTER 3
There's still mud under my fingernails when David finally comes home. I can feel it stinging against my raw skin, deep under the beds. My stomach twists, wringing fresh nerves out as the front door shuts, and for a moment we just look at each other from opposite ends of the long corridor of our new Victorian house, a tract of perfectly polished wood between us, before he turns, swaying slightly, toward the sitting room. I take a deep breath and join him, flinching at each of the hard beats of my heels against the floorboards. I must not be afraid. I need to repair this. We need to repair this.
"I've cooked dinner," I say, trying not to sound too needy. "Only a stroganoff. It can keep until tomorrow if you've already eaten."
He's facing away from me, staring at our bookshelves that the unpackers have filled from the boxes. I try not to think about how long he's been gone. I've cleaned up the broken glass, swept and scrubbed the floor, and dealt with the garden. All evidence of earlier rage has been removed. I rinsed my mouth out after every glass of wine I drank in his absence so he won't smell it on me. He doesn't like me to drink. Only ever a glass or two in company. Never alone. But tonight I couldn't help it.
Even if I haven't entirely got the dirt out from under my nails, I've showered and changed into a powder-blue dress and matching heels and put makeup on. No trace of tears and fighting. I want us to wash it all away. This is our fresh start. Our new beginning. It has to be.
"I'm not hungry." He turns to face me then, and I can see a quiet loathing in his eyes and I bite back a sudden urge to cry. I think this emptiness is worse than his anger. Everything I've worked so hard to build really is crumbling. I don't care that he's drunk again. I only want him to love me like he used to. He doesn't even notice the effort I've made since he stormed out. How busy I've been. How I look. How I've tried.
"I'm going to bed," he says. He doesn't meet my eyes and I know that he means the spare room. Two days into our fresh start, and he won't be sleeping with me. I feel the cracks between us widen once more. Soon we won't be able to reach each other across them. He walks carefully around me and I want to touch his arm but am too afraid of how he will react. He seems disgusted by me. Or perhaps it's his disgust at himself radiating in my direction.
"I love you," I say softly. I hate myself for it and he doesn't answer but unsteadily clambers up the stairs as if I'm not there. I hear his footsteps recede and then a door closing.
After a moment of staring at the space where he no longer is, listening to my patchwork heart breaking, I go back to the kitchen and turn the oven off. I won't keep it for tomorrow. It would taste sour on the memory of today. Dinner's ruined. We're ruined. I sometimes wonder if he wants to kill me and be done with it all. Get rid of the albatross around his neck. Perhaps some part of me wants to kill him, too.
I'm tempted to have another glass of forbidden wine, but I resist. I'm tearful enough already and I can't face another fight. Perhaps in the morning we'll be fine again. I'll replace the bottle and he'll never know I've been drinking at all.
I gaze out into the garden before finally flicking the outside lights off and facing my reflection in the window. I'm a beautiful woman. I look after myself. Why can't he still love me? Why can't our life have been as I'd hoped, as I'd wanted, after everything I've done for him? We have plenty of money. He has the career he dreamed of. I have only ever tried to be the perfect wife and give him the perfect life. Why can't he let the past go?
I allow myself a few minutes' more self-pity as I wipe down and polish the granite surfaces, and then I take a deep breath and pull myself together. I need to sleep. To properly sleep. I'll take a pill and knock myself out. Tomorrow will be different. It has to be. I'll forgive him. I always do.
I love my husband. I have since the moment I set eyes on him, and I will never fall out of love with him. I won't give that up. I can't.CHAPTER 4
No names, okay? No jobs. No dull life talk. Let's talk about real things.
"You really said that?"
"Yes. Well, no," I say. "He did."
My face burns. It sounded romantic at four thirty in the afternoon two days ago with the first illicit negroni, but now it's like something from a cheap tragi-romcom. Thirty-four-year-old woman walks into a bar and is sweet-talked by the man of her dreams, who turns out to be her new boss. Oh god, I want to die from the awfulness of it all. What a mess.
"Of course he did." Sophie laughs and immediately tries to stop herself. "No dull life talk. Like, oh, I don't know, the small fact I'm married." She sees my face. "Sorry. I know it's not technically funny, but it sort of is. And I know you're out of practice with the whole men thing, but how could you not have known from that he was married? The new boss bit I'll let you off with. That is simply bloody bad luck."
"It's really not funny," I say, but I smile. "Anyway, married men are your forte, not mine."
I knew Sophie would make me feel better. We are funny together. We laugh. She's an actress by trade — although we never discuss how she hasn't worked outside of two TV corpses in years — and, despite her affairs, has been married to a music exec forever. We met at our NCT classes, and although our lives are very different, we bonded. Seven years on and we're still drinking wine.
"But now you're like me," she says, with a cheery wink. "Sleeping with a married man. I feel less bad about myself already."
"I didn't sleep with him. And I didn't know he was married." That last part isn't quite true. By the end of the night, I'd had a pretty good idea. The urgent press of his body against mine as we kissed, our heads spinning from gin. The sudden break away. The guilt in his eyes. The apology. I can't do this. All the tells were there.
"Okay, Snow White. I'm just excited that you nearly got laid. How long's it been now?"
"I really don't want to think about that. Depressing me further won't help with my current predicament," I say, before drinking more of my wine. I need another cigarette. Adam is tucked up and fast asleep and won't move until breakfast and school. I can relax. He doesn't have nightmares. He doesn't sleepwalk. Thank god for small mercies.
"And this is all Michaela's fault anyway," I continue. "If she'd canceled before I got there, none of this would have happened."
Sophie's got a point, though. It's been a long time since I've even flirted with a man, let alone got drunk and kissed one. Her life is different. Always surrounded by new and interesting people. Creative types who live more freely, drink until late, and behave like teenagers. Being a single mum in London eking out a living as a psychiatrist's part-time secretary doesn't exactly give me a huge amount of opportunities to throw caution to the wind and go out every night in the hope of meeting anyone, let alone "Mr. Right," and I can't face Tinder or Match or any of those other sites. I've kind of got used to being on my own. Putting all that on hold for a while. A while that is turning into an inadvertent lifestyle choice.
"This will cheer you up." She pulls a joint out of the top pocket of her red corduroy jacket. "Trust me, you'll find everything funnier once we're baked." She sees the reluctance on my face and grins. "Come on, Lou. It's a special occasion. You've excelled yourself. Snogged your new married boss. This is genius. I should get someone to write the film. I could play you."
"Good," I say. "I'll need the money when I'm fired." I can't fight Sophie, and I don't want to, and soon we're sitting out on the small balcony of my tiny flat, wine, crisps, and cigarettes at our feet, passing the weed between us, giggling.
Unlike Sophie, who somehow remains half-teenager, getting high is not in any way part of my normal routine — there isn't the time or the money when you're on your own — but laughter beats crying any time and I suck in a lungful of sweet, forbidden smoke.
"It could only happen to you," she says. "You hid?"
I nod, smiling at the comedy of the memory imagined through someone else's eyes. "I couldn't think of anything else to do. I dove into the toilet and stayed there. When I came out, he'd gone. He doesn't start until tomorrow. He was getting the full tour from Dr. Sykes."
"With his wife."
"Yep, with his wife." I remember how good they looked together in that brief, awful moment of realization. A beautiful couple.
"How long did you stay in the toilet for?"
There's a pause and then we both have the giggles, wine and weed buzzing our heads, and for a little while we can't stop.
"I wish I could have seen your face," Sophie says.
"Yeah, well, I'm not looking forward to seeing his face when he sees my face."
Sophie shrugs. "He's the married one. It's his shame. He can't say anything to you."
She absolves me of my guilt, but I can still feel it clinging along with the shock. The gut punch of the woman I'd glimpsed by his side before I dashed into hiding. His beautiful wife. Elegant. Dark-haired and olive-skinned in an Angelina Jolie way. That kind of mystery about her. Exceptionally slim. The opposite of me. The snapshot of her is burned into my brain. I couldn't imagine her ever panicking and hiding in a toilet from anyone. It stung in a way it shouldn't have, not after one drunken afternoon, and not only because my confidence has reached rock bottom.
The thing is, I'd liked him — really liked him. I can't tell Sophie about that. How I hadn't talked to anyone like that in a long time. How happy I'd felt to be flirting with someone who was flirting back, and how I'd forgotten how great that excitement of something potentially new was. My life is, as a rule, a blur of endless routine. I get Adam up and get him to school. If I'm working and want to get in early, he goes to breakfast club. If I'm not working, I may spend an hour or so browsing charity shops for designer castoffs that will fit the clinic's subtly expensive look. Then it's just cooking, cleaning, shopping until Adam comes home and then it's homework, tea, bath, story, bed for him, and wine and bad sleep for me. When he goes to his dad's for a weekend I'm too tired to do anything much other than lie in and then watch crap TV. The idea that this could be my life until Adam's at least fifteen or so quietly terrifies me so I don't think about it. But then meeting the-man-in-the-bar made me remember how good it was to feel something. As a woman. It made me feel alive. I'd even thought about going back to that bar and seeing if he'd turned up to find me. But, of course, life isn't a romcom. And he's married. And I've been an idiot. I'm not bitter, merely sad. I can't tell Sophie any of these things because then she'd feel sorry for me and I don't want that and it's just easier to find it all funny. It is funny. And it's not like I sit at home bemoaning my singledom every night, as if no one could ever be complete without a man. In the main, I'm pretty happy. I'm a grown-up. I could have it way worse. This was one mistake. I have to deal with it.
I scoop up a handful of Doritos and Sophie does the same.
"Curves are the new thin," we say in unison, before cramming the crisps into our mouths and nearly choking as we laugh again. I think about me hiding in the toilet from him, full of panic and disbelief. It is funny. Everything is funny. It might be less funny tomorrow morning when I have to face the music, but for now I can laugh. If you can't laugh at your own fuck-ups, what can you laugh at?
"Why do you do it?" I say later when the bottle of wine is empty between us and the evening is drawing to a close. "Have affairs? Aren't you happy with Jay?"
"Of course I am," Sophie says. "I love him. It's not like I'm out doing it all the time."
This is probably true. She's an actress; she exaggerates for the sake of a story sometimes.
"But why do it at all?" Strangely, it's not something we've really talked about that much. She knows I'm uncomfortable with it, not because she does it — that's her business — but because I know and like Jay. He's good for her. Without him, she'd be screwed. As it were.
"I have a higher sex drive than he does," she says eventually. "And sex isn't what marriage is about anyway. It's about being with your best friend. Jay's my best friend. But we've been together fifteen years. Lust can't maintain itself. I mean, we still do it, sometimes, but it's not like it was. And having a child changes things. You spend so many years seeing each other as parents rather than lovers, it's hard to get that passion back."
I think back to my own short-lived marriage. The lust didn't die with us. But that didn't stop him leaving after four years to be with someone else when our son was barely two years old. Maybe she has a point. I don't think I ever saw my ex, Ian, as my best friend.
"It just seems a bit sad to me." And it does.
"That's because you believe in true love and happy ever after in a fairy-tale way. That's not how life is."
"Do you think he's ever cheated on you?" I ask.
"He's definitely had his flirtations," she says. "There was a singer he worked with a long time ago. I think maybe they had a thing for a while. But whatever it was, it didn't affect us. Not really."
She makes it sound so reasonable. All I can think of is the pain of betrayal I felt when Ian left. How what he did affected how I saw myself. How worthless I felt in those early days. How ugly. The short-lived romance he left me for didn't last either, but that didn't make me feel better.
"I don't think I'll ever understand it," I say.
"Everyone has secrets, Lou," she says. "Everyone should be allowed their secrets. You can never know everything about a person. You'd go mad trying to."
* * *
I wonder, after she's left and I'm cleaning up the debris of our evening, if maybe Jay was the one who cheated first. Maybe that's the secret at the heart of Sophie's hotel room trysts. Maybe it's all done to make herself feel better or to quietly get even. Who knows. I'm probably overthinking it. Overthinking is my specialty. Each to their own, I remind myself. She seems happy and that's good enough for me.
It's only a little past ten thirty, but I'm exhausted, and I peer in at Adam for a minute, a soothing comfort to be found in watching his peaceful sleep, curled up tiny on his side under his Star Wars duvet, Paddington tucked under one arm, and then close the door and leave him to it.
* * *
It's dark when I wake up in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, and before I've really registered where I am, I feel the sharp throb in my shin where I've walked into the small laundry box in the corner. My heart races and sweat clings to my hairline. As reality settles around me, the night terror shatters, leaving only fragments in my head. I know what it was, though. Always the same dream.
A vast building, like an old hospital or orphanage. Abandoned. Adam is trapped somewhere inside it, and I know, I just know, that if I can't get to him, then he's going to die. He's calling out for me, afraid. Something bad is coming for him. I'm running through corridors trying to reach him, and from the walls and ceilings, the shadows reach out in tendrils, as if they're part of some terrible evil alive in the building, and wrap themselves around me, trapping me. All I can hear is Adam crying as I try to escape the dark, sticky strands determined to keep me from him, to choke me and drag me into the endless darkness. It's a horrible dream. It clings to me like the shadows do in the nightmare itself. The details may change slightly from night to night, but the narrative is always the same. However many times I have it, I'll never get used to it.
Excerpted from Behind Her Eyes by Sarah Pinborough. Copyright © 2017 Sarah Pinborough. Excerpted by permission of Flatiron Books.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Sarah Pinborough is an award-winning author. She lives in London.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
See all customer reviews
You will never figure out theending!
I read this having heard the hype, and taking the warning you'd never guess the ending as a challenge (I doubt I'm alone in that). I'd also heard that there were supernatural elements, which I'm fine with, but it's useful to get that known in case those inclined to dislike such can avoid it (unless they like to get angered). I don't normally read psychological thrillers, and the description makes it sound a bit domestic for my tastes. But it had good word of mouth, and the author had been entertaining on a panel I saw her at. It was engrossing, the writing carrying me through the parts that wouldn't normally hold my attention. The prose let me glide through the story, allowing my attention to focus on the interesting parts. Some things it seems to give away early in the book, and maybe they could have been held back longer. But they aren't, and the story doesn't suffer for that. There's plenty going on, plenty of clues to find, and plenty of mystery to gnaw at. Due to the challenge in the hype, I found myself interrogating everything looking for clues as to the twist. And then looking for other clues buried beneath the obvious ones. So the hype made me pay more attention to the story. The mystery elements, and clues, felt like they were interwoven so as to not detract from the relationship story, and vice versa. And the interweaving allowed some to be hidden in plain sight in retrospect. I did guess both the main twists, so there was no cheating in vital information being held back. (Either that, or the author's mental processes are as twisted as mine.) I was cheated out of the unguessable ending the marketing department promised though, but enjoyed the story enough that I shan't demand a refund.
There has been tons of buzz surrounding the release of Sarah Pinborough's just released novel, Behind Her Eyes. Especially the ending. And to get to the ending, you need to start at the beginning. (no cheating!) I started reading and was immediately immersed in the story. David, a psychiatrist and his wife Adele have just moved to a new city. It's a new job for David and what looks to be a fresh start for their marriage. Louise is a single mom who works as a secretary, out on the town for a night, when she meets a handsome man. And takes him home. Unbelievably, that man turns out to be David - her new boss. And Adele wants to be friends with Louise. So much could go wrong here eh? Nothing is as you expect it to be in this book. But there is definitely something wrong - in so many ways. I thought I had things pegged in the first few chapters and that Pinborough's plot would be similar to others in the psychological suspense genre. But I was mistaken, very mistaken. The character I thought was the victim is not. One of these three is playing a long range 'game', one you can't even begin to imagine. The reader is privy to all the machinations of that character. We know what the other two players do not. But it's still not easy to fit together what's going on. Pinborough is quite cryptic with her dropped clues and foreshadowing. So, that ending. It's definitely good. I thought the book had ended and then there was that one last 'gotcha'. That I did not see coming. Surprise endings are hard to pull off but Pinborough does. So why would I rate this a four and not a five? Well, being deliberately obtuse so as not to ruin the book for you, I wasn't one hundred per cent sold on the plot device Pinborough employs to achieve that ending. Pragmatic me found it a bit of a stretch. But overall, Behind Her Eyes was a good read, one that will keep you intrigued.
Didn;t know what I was getting into. All the hoopla was a gimmick. Didn't want to read this type of Sci Fi book.
I really enjoyed this book. A little slow in spots, but that totally unexpected ending blew me away!
Behind Her Eyes is an extremely engrossing read, once you’ve gotten to know the characters. This is a story about three people: Adele, David, and Louise. Adele is obsessively in love with and married to David. David and Louise, who are mad for each other, are carrying on a sordid affair behind his wife’s back. As if this wasn’t complicated enough, Adele and Louise are new best friends. In a love triangle, only 2 people can win. Sarah Pinborough is a new to me author. Psychological thrillers are not my usual genre to read and I’m slowly branching out to reading authors from other countries. That being said, this book was slow to read at the beginning. I’m not used to reading books written from multiple points of view. You read from the perspective of both Adele and Louse. You also get flashbacks to Adele’s past. Once I got a feel for the characters, I couldn’t put it down. I had to keep reading to find out how everything unfolded. Behind Her Eyes reminded me a bit of Gone Girl, in that the main character is smart and has been planning for the end game meticulously. Your feelings towards her completely flip flop by the end of the story. Oh my goodness what an ending. I had to read the final chapter twice. I received ARC of this book. I was not compensated for my review, and I was not required to write a positive review. The opinion expressed here is my own.
“Behind Her Eyes” A Novel by Sarah Pinborough I would like to thank Flatiron Books for an Advanced Reading Edition of “Behind Her Eyes” by Sarah Pinborough. OMG!!! I can’t believe the ending of this book! I never guessed or saw this coming!! Needless to say, the author had me spellbound. I could not put this book down. Except for one bathroom run, and one necessary( 20 ounces of) coffee break, I read through this in the two sittings. The genre of this book is mystery and thriller. In a slight way it does remind me of “Behind Closed Doors” by B.A.Paris. (and not because of the title “Behind”) Both books do discuss what a marriage should or should not be and secrets. I realize now after reading “Behind Her Eyes”, the author leaves us some very subtle delicate clues. There are many twists and turns. There are hidden truths and secrets and betrayals. I find that the author has built up her characters’ descriptions, dealing with their flaws and strengths. Sarah Pinborough writes about a Psychiatrist, his gorgeous wife, and the part time secretary. One can see each strength and weakness, and how they relate. I certainly do not want to give away any spoilers, but I did enjoy this book and would highly recommend it. I really did not want to go to sleep .(until I was finished of course).
Behind Her Eyes by Sarah Pinborough is my first read by this author. I usually do not read psychological thrillers even though I am a Hitchcock fan. But since I received an ARC of this book, I gave it a try. I found the three main characters--Louise, David and Adele--very hard to like at all. As do all psychological thrillers, there are many twists and turns which keep the reader guessing. But as advertised the ending was totally unseen. For lovers of this genre, highly recommend the read. Not a book I would read again.