When I pick up a book that calls itself a thriller, I expect things to move - fast. Unfortunately, The Last Mrs. Parrish crawled along at a snail’s pace. The first twelve chapters seemed to do little more than repeat how obsessed Amber is with Daphne, with money, with Jackson…yada, yada. Instead of suspense, I got monotony. By the time I realized the story wasn’t picking up speed, I had already given up. For me, this one was a dud in the thriller department.
