Someone Is Watching

Someone Is Watching

2.9 12
by Joy Fielding
     
 

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A pulse-pounding thriller perfect for fans of Lisa Gardner and Mary Higgins Clark with a sly nod toward Alfred Hitchcock’s classic film Rear Window, Someone Is Watching boasts the extraordinary edge-of-your-seat storytelling of bestselling author Joy Fielding at the height of her powers.
 
As a special investigator for a hotshot

Overview

A pulse-pounding thriller perfect for fans of Lisa Gardner and Mary Higgins Clark with a sly nod toward Alfred Hitchcock’s classic film Rear Window, Someone Is Watching boasts the extraordinary edge-of-your-seat storytelling of bestselling author Joy Fielding at the height of her powers.
 
As a special investigator for a hotshot Miami law firm, Bailey Carpenter is smart, savvy, and fearless. When she’s assigned to spy on a deadbeat dad in the middle of the night, Bailey thinks nothing of the potential dangers, only that she needs to gather evidence. Then she is blindsided—attacked and nearly killed.
 
Now the firm grip Bailey once had on her life is shaken. Her nightmares merge into her waking hours and she’s unable to venture beyond her front door without panicking. A veritable prisoner in her own home, Bailey is uncertain whom she can trust. But old habits die hard, and soon Bailey finds a new use for her idle binoculars: casually observing from her window neighboring buildings and other people’s lives. This seemingly harmless diversion becomes a guilty pleasure when Bailey fixates on the handsome guy across the street—until she realizes that he is also watching her. Suddenly she must confront the terrifying possibility that he may be the man who shattered her life.
 
Though crippled by fear, Bailey knows she can’t ignore her suspicions and risk leaving a predator at large. With the police making no headway in solving her case, she’s determined to overcome her terror and reclaim the power she lost by unmasking her attacker and taking him down herself. But it’s a harrowing battle that threatens to wreck Bailey’s credibility, compromise an investigation, and maybe even claim her sanity.

Praise for Someone Is Watching
 
Someone Is Watching gripped me from the first to the very last page. Bailey Carpenter is a heroine who’s both victim and warrior woman, a fascinating sleuth who will linger with you long after you’ve finished this thrilling read.”—Tess Gerritsen

“Joy Fielding has long been a go-to author for me. She never fails to deliver an edge-of-your-seat read, and with her patented blend of complex characters and escalating suspense she is in top form here. I highly recommend Someone Is Watching.”—Karen Robards

“Joy Fielding pens a spiraling tale of paranoia and suspense, as sultry as a Miami night. Readers will find a heroine to root for, scold, and ultimately adore in Bailey Carpenter. Though comparisons to Rear Window will inevitably arise, Fielding has created something even more remarkable: a modern-day Gaslight in which both cat and mouse are real, flawed, and eminently relatable.”—Jenny Milchman

Someone Is Watching is a gripping, fast-paced psychological thriller reminiscent of Rear Window and the works of Lisa Gardner. . . . Not geared to the faint of heart, Fielding’s story of one woman’s search for justice, understanding, and internal peace is nothing short of arresting.”Booklist (starred review)

“This engrossing standalone from bestseller Fielding makes you care about Bailey Carpenter. . . . The characters pulsate with life, and there are a few shocks in store—for Bailey and the reader—before the denouement. And the presence of Jade, Claire’s outspoken teen daughter, blows everyone else off the page.”Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“A page­turning ride with a likable protagonist.”Kirkus Reviews

From the Hardcover edition.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
★ 01/26/2015
This engrossing standalone from bestseller Fielding (Shadow Creek) makes you care about Bailey Carpenter, a Miami-based investigator who’s raped while on surveillance. Previously, the biggest problems in Bailey’s life had been her mother’s death, her affair with a married colleague, and her five half-siblings’ attempt to overturn their father’s will, which left millions to Bailey and her often-stoned brother, Heath. Now Claire, a nurse as well as the half-sister Bailey barely knows, becomes her guardian angel as she starts on her slow path to recovery. Not sleeping and afraid to leave her high-rise apartment, Bailey suspects every man of evil intent, and she has a number of encounters, both frightening and embarrassing, in her quest to re-establish some control over her life. The characters pulsate with life, and there are a few shocks in store—for Bailey and the reader—before the denouement. And the presence of Jade, Claire’s outspoken teen daughter, blows everyone else off the page. Agent: Tracy Fisher, WME Entertainment. (Mar.)
Kirkus Reviews
2015-01-08
A detective searches for her rapist in Fielding's latest thriller.Heiress to her father's Wall Street fortune, Bailey Carpenter lives a life of privilege in a luxury Miami high-rise and works as an investigator for a law firm. However, Bailey and her actor-brother Heath are being sued by their five half siblings, who were left out of the will. Bailey is still traumatized by her father's fatal heart attack and by her mother's long ordeal and death from cancer. Her romantic life is also complex—she's in love with her married boss. Hiding in some bushes after midnight, staking out a deadbeat dad, Bailey is viciously raped by a masked assailant. She can recall only the feel of his gloves, a fleeting glance at his black Nike sneakers and his voice, asking her to "tell me you love me." Another ordeal begins as Bailey, on leave from work, suffers panic attacks, severe weight loss and recurring dreams of her attacker and circling sharks. Her half sister Claire, a nurse, comes to the rescue, accompanied by teen daughter Jade, who has done a stint in juvie and expertly picks Bailey's locks. Despite the lawsuit, Claire's care for Bailey is devoid of any greedy ulterior motives. She recommends a therapist and tries to discourage Bailey from another self-destructive habit she has picked up: observing a man in a neighboring high-rise who has nightly sexual assignations fully visible through his open window. As his acts become violent, Bailey can't interest law enforcement in focusing on the window exhibitionist since she's the only one to ever observe him doing anything suspicious and her credibility is suspect due to mental instability. The conclusion to all this involves improbable coincidences, a giant MacGuffin and surprising lapses of intuition on the part of supposedly seasoned gumshoe Bailey; her hypersensitivity is very selectively triggered, usually by red herrings. Still, the mystery is not the point in Fielding's work: A page-turning ride with a likable protagonist is, and here, she succeeds admirably.
From the Publisher
Someone Is Watching gripped me from the first to the very last page. Bailey Carpenter is a heroine who’s both victim and warrior woman, a fascinating sleuth who will linger with you long after you’ve finished this thrilling read.”—Tess Gerritsen

“Joy Fielding has long been a go-to author for me. She never fails to deliver an edge-of-your-seat read, and with her patented blend of complex characters and escalating suspense she is in top form here. I highly recommend Someone Is Watching.”—Karen Robards

“Joy Fielding pens a spiraling tale of paranoia and suspense, as sultry as a Miami night. Readers will find a heroine to root for, scold, and ultimately adore in Bailey Carpenter. Though comparisons to Rear Window will inevitably arise, Fielding has created something even more remarkable: a modern-day Gaslight in which both cat and mouse are real, flawed, and eminently relatable.”—Jenny Milchman

Someone Is Watching is a gripping, fast-paced psychological thriller reminiscent of Rear Window and the works of Lisa Gardner. Fielding has crafted a flawed yet likable heroine in Bailey by allowing her to experience the varied emotions of recovery instead of pigeonholing her as a helpless victim or bloodthirsty vigilante. Not geared to the faint of heart, Fielding’s story of one woman’s search for justice, understanding, and internal peace is nothing short of arresting.”Booklist (starred review)

“This engrossing standalone from bestseller Fielding makes you care about Bailey Carpenter. . . . The characters pulsate with life, and there are a few shocks in store—for Bailey and the reader—before the denouement. And the presence of Jade, Claire’s outspoken teen daughter, blows everyone else off the page.”Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“A page­turning ride with a likable protagonist.”Kirkus Reviews

From the Hardcover edition.

Library Journal
10/15/2014
Devastated by a brutal attack, private investigator Bailey Carpenter withdraws to spend her time staring out her apartment window with her binoculars, noting especially the hunky guy across the way. One day, she finds him staring back mockingly and becomes convinced that he's her attacker. More suspense from the New York Times best seller after Shadow Creek.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780553390636
Publisher:
Random House Publishing Group
Publication date:
03/24/2015
Pages:
384
Sales rank:
190,599
Product dimensions:
6.30(w) x 9.40(h) x 1.50(d)

Related Subjects

Read an Excerpt

9780553390636|excerpt

Fielding / SOMEONE IS WATCHING

—One—

The day starts the same way it usually does. Just another monotonously gorgeous October day in Miami, the sky typically blue and cloudless, the temperature expected to reach eighty degrees by noon. There is nothing to suggest that today will vary significantly from yesterday or the day before that, nothing to suggest that today, or more specifically tonight, will change my life forever.

I wake up at seven. Shower and dress—­a black pleated skirt and white cotton blouse, slightly more formal than my usual fare. Brush my hair, which is light brown and hangs in loose waves halfway down my back. Apply a hint of blush to my cheeks and a touch of mascara to my lashes. Make some coffee, scarf down a muffin, and call downstairs at eight thirty for one of the valets to bring up my car from the underground garage.

I could go get the vintage silver Porsche myself, but the valets get a kick out of driving it, even for the thirty seconds it takes to accelerate up the circular ramp from my parking spot on lower level three to the front entrance. This morning it’s Finn, almost handsome in his uniform of khaki pants and short-­sleeved, forest-­green shirt, behind the wheel. “Busy day, Miss Carpenter?” he asks as we exchange positions.

“Just another day in paradise.”

“Enjoy,” he says, closing my door and waving me away.

I head for Biscayne Boulevard and the law offices of Holden, Cunningham, and Kravitz, where I’ve been employed as an investigator for almost two years. The firm, home to approximately three hundred employees, a hundred and twenty-­five of whom are lawyers, occupies the top three floors of an imposing marble tower in the business heart of the city. Normally I’d enjoy another cup of coffee while exchanging pleasantries with whomever happens to be milling around the staff room, but today I’m due in court, so I park my car in the underground lot, lock my licensed Glock in the glove compartment, and hail a cab for the short ride over to 73 West Flagler Street and the Miami-­Dade County Courthouse. Street parking is minimal to nonexistent in this area, and I can’t afford to waste precious time looking for a spot. I’ve been called as a rebuttal witness in a case involving corporate espionage, and I’m anxious to take the stand. Unlike many in my profession who prefer to remain invisible, I actually enjoy testifying.

Maybe that’s because, as an investigator, I spend a great deal of my time in relative isolation. My job involves gathering information that will prove useful in courtroom defense, investigating cheating spouses and suspicious employees, engaging in surveillance, taking photographs, videotaping clandestine encounters, searching out and questioning prospective witnesses, locating missing heirs, and rounding up facts, some of which turn out to be pertinent and admissible in court, others merely prurient but useful anyway. When I have gathered up all the necessary info, I sit down and write up a report. Occasionally, like today, I’m called to testify. A cursory knowledge of the law is essential, making the several years I spent at the University of Miami majoring in criminology not a total waste of time, despite my leaving before completing my degree. According to the online site where I secured my investigator’s license, it is part of my job description to be clever, well-­informed, dogged, methodical, resourceful, and discreet. I try to be all of those things.

There’s a long lineup of people already waiting to pass through the metal detectors when I arrive at the courthouse, followed by an excruciatingly slow ride in a crowded elevator to the twenty-­first floor. It seems almost laughable now to think that back when construction of this twenty-­eight-­story building was completed in 1928, it was not only the tallest building in Florida but the tallest building south of Ohio. Amazingly, its white limestone exterior still manages to stand out amid the largely indistinguishable glass structures that surround and dwarf it. Inside the building, it’s a different and less impressive story, the lobby still awaiting funds to complete its stalled refurbishing, the majority of courtrooms feeling as stale as they occasionally smell.

“State your name and occupation,” the county clerk directs as I take the stand and agree to tell the whole truth and nothing but.

“Bailey Carpenter. I’m an investigator with Holden, Cunningham, and Kravitz.”

“How are you, Bailey?” Sean Holden asks as I take my seat. Sean is not only my boss but one of the firm’s founding fathers and major stars, even though he’s only forty-­two. I watch him do up the buttons of his blue pinstriped jacket, thinking what an impressive man he is. Not good-­looking in the traditional sense, his features somewhat coarse, his hazel eyes small and a little too direct, his dark hair a bit too curly, his lips a touch too full. Just a little too much of everything, which is usually just more than enough to intimidate the hell out of the other side.

The case before the court is relatively simple: Our client, the owner of a local chain of successful bakeries, is being sued for wrongful dismissal by a former employee. He is countersuing, arguing that the woman was fired for divulging trade secrets to his chief competitor. The woman has already testified that her meetings with the competitor in question were totally innocent, that she and her husband have known him since childhood, and that their meetings, all of which are detailed in my report and already entered into evidence, were for the sole purpose of planning a surprise party for her husband’s fortieth birthday. She went on to volunteer that she is an honest woman who would never knowingly betray her employer’s trust. That was her mistake. Witnesses should never volunteer anything.

Sean asks me a number of seemingly innocuous, job-­related questions before zeroing in on the reason I’m here. “You’re aware that Janice Elder has already testified under oath that she is, and I quote, ‘an honest woman incapable of such betrayal.’ ”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“And you’re here to refute that statement?”

“I have evidence that refutes both her assertion of honesty and that she is incapable of betrayal.”

The lawyer for the other side is immediately on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor.”

“Mrs. Elder opened the door to this line of questioning herself,” Sean states, and the judge quickly rules in his favor.

“You said that you have evidence that refutes both her assertion of honesty and that she is incapable of betrayal?” Sean asks, repeating what I have said, word for word.

“Yes, I do.”

“What is that evidence?”

I refer to my notes, although the truth is I don’t need them. Sean and I have been going over my testimony for days, and I know exactly what I’m going to say. “On the night of March 12, 2013,” I begin, “I followed Mrs. Elder to the Doubleday Hilton Hotel in Fort Lauderdale. . . .” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Janice Elder hastily conferring with her lawyer. I see the panic in her eyes.

“Objection,” her lawyer says again.

Again, he is overruled.

“Go on, Ms. Carpenter.”

“I watched her approach the reception desk and secure a room card. Room 214, registered to a Mr. Carl Segretti.”

“What the hell?” a man exclaims from the bench directly behind Mrs. Elder. He is Todd Elder, Janice’s husband, and he is already on his feet, a combination of shock and outrage causing his tanned skin to glow bright red, as if he has been set ablaze. “You’ve been sneaking around with Carl?”

“Objection, Your Honor. This has absolutely nothing to do with the case at hand.”

“On the contrary, Your Honor. . . .”

“You lying little bitch!”

“Order in the court.”

“You’ve been fucking my goddamn cousin?”

“Bailiff, remove that man.” The judge bangs on his gavel. “Court is recessed for thirty minutes.”

“Good work,” Sean remarks out of the corner of his mouth as I walk past him out of the courtroom, the hostility in Mrs. Elder’s eyes burning into my back like acid.

In the hallway I check my phone while waiting to see if I will be recalled to the stand. There is a message from Alissa Dunphy, a third-­year associate at the firm, asking me to look into the possible reappearance of one Roland Peterson, a deadbeat dad who fled Miami some months ago rather than pay his ex-­wife the several hundred thousand dollars he owes her in back alimony and child support.

“Well, that was a rather unpleasant surprise,” a voice behind me says as I’m dropping the phone back into my oversized canvas bag. The voice belongs to the lawyer representing Janice Elder. His name is Owen Weaver and I estimate his age as early thirties, which makes him just a few years older than me. I note that he has a mouthful of straight white teeth that don’t quite go with his engagingly crooked smile.

“Just doing my job,” I tell him, only half-­apologetically.

“Do you have to do it so well?” The smile spreading from his lips to his soft brown eyes tells me we’re not really talking about the case at all. “Do me a favor,” he says.

“If I can.”

“Have dinner with me,” he continues, confirming my suspicions.

“What?”

“Dinner? With me? The restaurant of your choice? Saturday night?”

“You’re asking me out?”

“You’re surprised?”

“Well, under the circumstances . . .”

“You mean the fact that you just blew my case out of the water?”

“There is that.”

“We still have to eat.”

“There’s that, too.” The courtroom doors burst open and Sean Holden strides purposefully toward me. “If you’ll excuse me a minute . . . my boss . . .”

“Of course.” Owen Weaver reaches into the inside pocket of his navy jacket and hands me his card. “Call me.” He smiles, first at me, then at Sean. “Give me ten minutes with my client,” he tells him before moving away.

Sean nods. “What was that all about?”

I slip Owen’s card into my bag and shrug, as if to indicate our conversation was of no importance. Sean looks back toward the courtroom, my eyes following his. Mrs. Elder’s husband is standing alone and stone-­faced beside the door, his fists clenched at his sides, his body muscular and coiled, ready to spring into action. He catches my glance and mouths the word bitch, transferring his fury at his wife to me. Not the first time misplaced anger has been pointed in my direction.

By the time court resumes half an hour later, Mrs. Elder has agreed to drop her suit if our client will do the same. Our client grumbles but ultimately gives in, and nobody leaves happy, which I’ve heard is the sign of a good compromise. At least Sean and I are pleased. “I have to run,” he tells me as we’re leaving the courthouse. “I’ll catch you later. And Bailey,” he adds, hailing down a passing cab and climbing inside. “Congratulations. You did real good.”

I watch the taxi disappear into traffic before hailing a cab of my own and returning to Biscayne Boulevard. Despite our victory in court, I’m feeling a bit let down. I guess I’d been hoping for something more than an ungrammatical pat on the back. A celebratory lunch would have been nice, I think as I locate my car in the underground garage and climb inside, unlocking the glove compartment and returning my gun to my purse, where it lands on top of Owen Weaver’s business card. I’m toying with taking him up on his offer. Since breaking up with my boyfriend, I’ve spent far too many Saturday nights alone.

I’m still debating whether to accept his invitation some twenty minutes later as I turn the corner onto Northeast 129 Street in North Miami. Parking my car on the quiet, residential street, I head toward the lemon-­yellow building at the end of a row of similarly old-­fashioned, pastel-­colored, low-­rise condos. This is where Sara McAllister lives. Sara was Roland Peterson’s girlfriend at the time he fled the city rather than support his children. My hunch is that Sara McAllister just might be the reason he came back, something I intend to find out.

Near the end of the street is an elongated circle of shrubbery, a spot both self-­contained and secluded, despite its proximity to the road. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect surveillance spot. Taking a quick look around to make sure no one is watching, I retrieve my binoculars from my bag and slip into the middle of the bushes, dislodging several coral blossoms as I crouch among the flowers and raise the binoculars to my eyes. I aim them at the third-­floor corner unit of the four-­story building and adjust the lenses until they merge into a single image.

The drapes in Sara McAllister’s living room are open, but with the lights off, it’s difficult to make out much of the interior except for a white-­shaded lamp positioned next to the window. The apartment appears to be empty, which isn’t surprising. Sara is a saleswoman at Nordstrom and usually works till six. I decide there’s little to be accomplished by hanging around now. It makes more sense to come back this evening.

I have two meetings scheduled for this afternoon as well as a backlog of paperwork to finish off. I also want to call my brother, Heath. It’s been a week since we’ve spoken, and I can’t stop worrying about him. I take one last, seemingly casual look around the old street, frozen in the sunlight as if it were frozen in time, as still as a photograph.

I’m pushing myself to my feet when I see something flash in a window across the way, a hint of someone moving just out of frame. Has someone been watching me?

I lift the binoculars back to my eyes but see no one. Professional paranoia, I decide, as I extricate myself from the bushes, brushing a fallen hibiscus blossom from the shoulder of my white blouse and swiping at the dirt clinging to my knees. I decide to change into more appropriate attire before coming back tonight, when I can use the darkness as a protective shield. I’m foolish enough to think it will keep me safe from prying eyes like mine.

From the Hardcover edition.

Meet the Author

Joy Fielding is the New York Times bestselling author of Charley’s Web, Heartstopper, Mad River Road, See Jane Run, and other acclaimed novels. She divides her time between Toronto and Palm Beach, Florida.

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Someone Is Watching: A Novel 2.9 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 12 reviews.
LC112648LC More than 1 year ago
Someone is Watching ... Where do I start? I have read every one of Joy's books for many years now. Always look forward to her newest book coming out - and always have enjoyed them thoroughly! This is the first time that I couldn't get past page 35 in this book. Too depressing - narrative form is boring - and almost seemed like someone else was writing it! Unbelievable - I'm very surprised! Normally her books start out with a bank and end up with a bang! What happened ??? Maybe it's just me, but I don't recommend this book. Based on her other books I will be ordering the next one when it comes out. This writing style just wasn't getting it for me. I didn't mind about the rape - it just was the narrative explaining what was happening to her. Anyway, this is the first book of hers that I didn't want to bother finishing!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Read all of this authors books, but this one is not up to her usual great stories. Sorry butcan not recommend!
MaryBNC More than 1 year ago
I found this book to be slow moving at first,almost on the dull side,but it picks up as you get closer to the end. Its not a bad read just the the main character cant move on and it goes on and on for too long!I rate this book with only three stars.
Caroles_Random_Life More than 1 year ago
3 Stars I am always looking for something out of the ordinary to read so I like to try new authors quite frequently. I have seen Joy Fielding's books but had not yet read anything by this author so I thought it was time to check out her writing since I love a good mystery. I am glad that I made the decision to read this book because I was completely pulled into this story. I want to warn other readers right away that this story deals with the subject of rape because I think that this book may be somewhat traumatic for some readers. I was really expecting a run of the mill mystery and was a bit shocked when rape entered the story. I think it is really a brave choice to have such a heavy focus on a such a horrible crime and its aftermath. Bailey is working as a private investigator at a law firm doing surveillance on the night that she is attacked and severely injured. She doesn't know who attacked her and can only give the police very little information to go on to find her attacker. Bailey has a really tough time dealing with the rape and I wanted to smack every single person in her life for not making sure that she got the help that she so desperately needed. Quite a few characters in this story were very unlikable. Her brother, Heath, was absolutely useless. Gene seemed to try take over anytime he was around. Travis and Sean were not good for Bailey to be around. Not only were many of these characters unlikeable they brought more problems to Bailey that she did not need. My favorite character in the story was Bailey's niece, Jade. She said what she thought and didn't sugar coat anything but it was obvious that she did care about Bailey. Claire became very close to Bailey during the story and really seemed to step up and actually give her the help she needed. I liked Bailey but it was really hard at times to be so close to her thoughts. I wanted to get her to a therapist's office right away. I understand her need to find out who is was that attacked her but her accusations of nearly every man she came in contact with became almost tedious at time. There ended up being two real mysteries to solve by the end of the book. I am not sure that I can completely buy into how either of them were resolved. I really feel a bit let down by how the book ended to be absolutely honest which is really a shame. Overall I found this book to be very well written and I would recommend it to other readers. I really had a hard time putting it down so it was really hard to see the ending fall so flat. I received a copy of this book from Random House Publishing - Ballantine via NetGalley for the purpose of providing an honest review.
Lauren2LC More than 1 year ago
One of my all time favorite books is Still Life by Joy Fielding so, I jumped at the opportunity to review this book. I was hooked from the very beginning of this book all the way to the end. The story is about Bailey Carpenter who is a private investigator working for a law firm. She is good at her job but was barely holding it together in the other aspects of her life. Right at the beginning of the story, Bailey gets attacked and loses a part of herself. She can barely keep it together and is having a hard time knowing what is real and what is not. Her fears are drowning her. As we follow the story it's hard to figure out if Bailey is losing it or not. There is so many twists and turns that you eagerly waiting to find out what next is going to happen. Joy Fielding has such a gift at suspenseful thrillers. I was engaged throughout and so shocked with all the twists and turns. I was emotionally captivated throughout waiting to find out what is happening to poor Bailey. If you like thrillers than Joy Fielding is a go to author for this genre. With Someone is Watching you feel all of Bailey's pain, fear and anxieties. While reading you're encaptured and waiting while watching Bailey on her personal journey to find out what happened to her and how she deals with the aftermath of being attacked. There is so much more to say about this book but then I would be giving away what happens. This is one of those books that just needs to be experienced to get the full effect.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is a book you can't put down! It had me turning the pages from the moment I picked it up. Bailey is someone you know and feel for. Her dreams were becoming my dreams. My heart was pounding along with hers. Don't let this one get away! Read it today!
Sh1aol More than 1 year ago
I have read other books by Joy Fielding and was looking forward to reading this. It never grabbed my attention and I struggled to finish the book. The ending was the only interesting part of the book that I enjoyed. Easy read. Easy to put down if that is what you are looking for in a novel.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I have always read Joy Fielldings books so I purchased this one. I was disappointed in it. The story line was too drawn out and the ending left you with too many unanswered questions.
momcat0 More than 1 year ago
OK, I read the other reviews; I loved this book! I didn't like ALL of her novels...I LOVED THIS ONE!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Kept my attention, quite a few twists and turns! I enjoy all her books
lunchread More than 1 year ago
Give only 3 stars. Story dragged plus the ending did not make sense. Would pass on this book.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago