Fallen Angel - Chris Brookmyre

This is the first book I have read by this author and I have to say I really enjoyed it. I will be looking out for more.

I wasn't sure about it to begin with it is a bit of a slow burner. I kept having to look back at the family tree as i kept forgetting who was who. So was really handy to have this in the front of the book. I think because I was expecting something different I was a bit cautious reading it but I had no reason to be. I really enjoyed it.

I enjoyed the way it told the story in the past and the present, this really added another dimension to the book. I loved seeing things from every characters perspective, it made me guess who was telling the truth and who was lying. Hard to know what to believe.

Once I started to read it, and things strarted to slot into place I couldn't put it down. There were a few cliffhangers in this book, not great if your reading it before work and you reach one and have to leave! The shorter chapters for me towards the end were also what gripped me in. It makes you read just one more.

4 stars

Comments

The art of deception - Louise Mangos

Buy Here PROLOGUE The vice of his fingers tightened on my wrist, and tendons crunched as they slid over each other inside my forearm. As he twisted harder, I turned my body in the direction of his grip to try and relieve the pain. His other hand appeared from behind him and the heel of his palm hit the side of my head. As it made contact with my ear, a siren rang in my brain, blocking all other sound. I kicked out, my foot slamming into his shins. His forward momentum increased as he was caught off balance, and his upper body folded. His shoulder glanced off the picture frame on the wall and it fell to the floor with a clatter. The rebound flung him away from me. As he let go of my arm, we fell apart like a tree struck down the middle by lightning. I staggered backwards, calves ramming against the coffee table, pushing it towards the sofa. Terror now ruling my fear, I grabbed the ceramic vase toppling from the table. I swung it ineffectually at his head. I was briefly su

Whatever it Takes - Tadhg Coakley

Buy Here

The Puritan Princess - Miranda Malins

Buy Here PROLOGUE 30 JANUARY 1661 We stand together, shoulder to shoulder, skirt to skirt, like a chain of paper dolls, come to see our father’s execution. Our hoods are pulled low over our faces although, in truth, few in the crowd would recognise us without our finery: we grace no coins, no medals or prints, and it is hardly likely any of them would have seen our portraits hanging, as they had, in the palaces of Whitehall and Hampton Court. A frosted blast of wind whips around my cloak and sends the three nooses hanging from the gallows before me swinging as if the condemned men already danced their deaths. I stare at the gibbet in blank horror. It is a terrible thing, vast and three-sided like a triangle, designed, Father once told me, to hold twenty-four souls at a time. ‘Why did it have to be here?’ I speak sideways to my sisters. It is somehow worse, much worse, that this is happening at Tyburn, the dirty, eerie crossroads outside London where they hang common felons: highwaym

Fearnley Fiction

Search This Blog