How to Disappear Completely by Liz Kerin

Four stars for the journey, with a deduction for the destination.

At thirteen, Hazel and her sister Kira receive a mysterious message they believe comes from another world. They call the being responsible the Snow Angel, and Kira becomes obsessed with it. Then Kira disappears without a trace.

Twenty years later, Hazel is still haunted by her sister's disappearance. No body. No answers. No closure. Just two decades of grief, guilt, and unanswered questions. Then a podcast revisits the mystery, other people who experienced the Snow Angel begin coming forward, and those people start having unfortunate little accidents. Apparently, hearing messages from another world comes with a rather alarming mortality rate.

I never really connected with Hazel, but I understood her. Between the grief and mysterious episodes that leave her freezing to the bone, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness, she's developed a rather unhealthy relationship with pills and alcohol. Not exactly a physician-approved treatment plan, but I understood her desperation.

What kept me turning pages wasn't necessarily Hazel herself. It was the mystery of Kira's disappearance. Where did she go? Why was her body never found? And what on earth (or elsewhere) was the Snow Angel?

Kerin tells the story across two timelines, 2006–07 and the present, and I thought she handled them well. The beginning takes its time establishing the characters and mystery, but once the suspicious accidents begin piling up, the suspense really takes off. Every time Hazel gets close to someone who might have answers, something terrible happens. I began worrying about her safety, although I had no idea who or what was responsible.

That's when the book started interfering with my bedtime. One more chapter. Just one more.

Of the supporting characters, Lily, Hazel's childhood friend, was easily my favorite. She's funny, loyal, and apparently believes happy hour can begin around two in the afternoon. Finally, someone with reasonable priorities! Her humor provided a welcome break from the grief, obsession, and the increasingly suspicious body count.

Kerin did a good job keeping me guessing. There were clues, and eventually certain characters started setting off my internal alarm bells, but the mystery wasn't obvious from the beginning. I enjoyed her writing style and the balance of suspense, emotional complexity, and occasional humor.

Unfortunately, the ending lost me. Without giving anything away, the final explanation involves some ambitious ideas about trauma and the nature of reality. And I understood it. I really did. But understanding something and believing it are two entirely different things.

Kerin explained her reasoning, but accepting it required a bigger leap than I was willing to make. I was perfectly happy to suspend my disbelief. Unfortunately, by the ending, my disbelief needed a parachute.

Despite my disappointment with the resolution, How to Disappear Completely earns four stars. The storytelling was engaging, the suspense kept me reading, and I genuinely wanted to know what happened to Kira. I just wish the ending had been as satisfying as the journey.

Readers who enjoy psychological suspense with speculative or supernatural elements, complicated family relationships, and explorations of grief and trauma may appreciate this one. Those who prefer more grounded explanations might share my reservations.

Four stars for a compelling mystery and several nights of just one more chapter. The ending? Well, we can't have everything.

Content Warnings: Grief and loss, child disappearance, murder, substance misuse, overdose, PTSD/trauma, violence, sexual content including choking/breath restriction during intimacy, and near-drowning.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for providing an advance reader copy of How to Disappear Completely by Liz Kerin in exchange for my honest review. All opinions are my own.

 

While They All Watched by Sulari Gentill

The bodies are piling up, the suspects are multiplying, and apparently nobody in this town is safe. So much for small-town charm.

This one snuck up on me!

When Clementine and Oscar receive word that Oscar's best friend, Jack, has been murdered, they immediately leave Australia and return to their original hometown of Roberta on the Lake, Michigan. What should have been a family reunion under happier circumstances becomes a nightmare as the siblings struggle to understand who killed Jack and why. And Jack, as it turns out, is only the beginning.

The night of his funeral, Bart is murdered. Then Jed disappears. Then the substitute high school principal is murdered. And somehow, all roads seem to lead back to the high school Bobby Sox baseball team, where several of these men once played together.

Apparently, high school baseball can leave you with more than fond memories and a few old trophies.

Clementine, or Clem, narrates the story, and I liked her immediately. She's a photographer, she's intelligent, and she's a reliable narrator, which is almost refreshing in a psychological thriller. I didn't have to spend half the book wondering whether she was lying to me, losing her mind, or both. I also liked Oscar, her veterinarian brother. I mean, how can you not trust a vet?

Then there's Sam, the high school principal, whose calm demeanor and effortless authority over his students made him another favorite. Carter, who returned to town shortly before people started dropping like flies, was another character I enjoyed. Gentill does an excellent job developing the blended family and the people surrounding them. They feel like actual human beings rather than cardboard cutouts waiting for their turn to be murdered.

And that brings me to my biggest criticism.

This book starts slowly. Really slowly.

Gentill spends a considerable amount of time introducing the characters, establishing their relationships, and immersing us in the family's history. I appreciate good character development, but at one point I started wondering whether Jack was going to be the only murder victim in this murder mystery. Fortunately, I didn't have to wonder forever.

When Jed disappeared, things started picking up. And when George, another former baseball player, called to say he thought he might be next and then disappeared himself, I was officially hooked.

George claimed he was protecting himself. Okay, fine. But he left behind a wife and a one-year-old child? Without a better explanation? Oh, George. Something is definitely rotten in Roberta on the Lake.

From that point forward, the book became increasingly difficult to put down. The tension continued building, the questions multiplied, and I found myself suspicious of practically everyone.

One of the most unsettling elements of the book is the way each chapter begins with a conversation involving the killer. We don't know who's speaking or who the murderer is, but these little glimpses add another layer of unease to an already disturbing story. I loved that technique. It kept reminding me that someone knew exactly what was happening, even when I hadn't the foggiest idea.

I had absolutely no idea who the killer was. None. Zip. Nada. Gentill completely blindsided me. The clues were there, but they certainly weren't waving little flags and announcing themselves. When the truth finally came out, things fell into place, but that didn't make the revelation any less jaw-dropping. I love a mystery that surprises me without making me feel as though the author simply pulled an answer out of thin air. That's exactly what happened here.

So why four stars instead of five? Pacing. Plain and simple. The final third of this book was riveting, and the payoff was excellent. But I can't ignore the fact that the earlier chapters moved slowly enough that I started getting impatient. All that character development ultimately helped make the mystery work, but I would have appreciated a little more momentum along the way.

Readers who enjoy character-driven mysteries, complicated family relationships, small-town secrets, and carefully constructed twists should find plenty to enjoy here. If you appreciate a slow-burn mystery that rewards your patience with a spectacular final act, this one deserves a spot on your reading list. If you need nonstop action from the first chapter, however, you might find yourself checking your watch during the early going.

As for me? Four solid stars. A slow beginning, an increasingly disturbing mystery, and a final third that made me forget all about the dust bunnies. Well, almost. Those little freeloaders aren't going anywhere.

Content warnings: Murder, violent deaths, missing persons, grief, child abuse, sexual abuse of a minor, and family trauma.

I received an advance reader copy of While They All Watched by Sulari Gentill through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

 

Nothing Human Left by Logan Hart

When everyone might be crazy, picking the murderer gets complicated.

I finished Nothing Human Left at about one o'clock in the morning. That should tell you something right there. Forget the dust bunnies. This one stole sleep. The story begins slowly, but give it time. The author is laying the groundwork, and once that foundation starts cracking, good luck putting the book down.

Grace was raised by her single mother, Marge, whose problems go considerably beyond your average overprotective parent. Marge is obsessed with keeping Grace safe. Every time Grace spends time outside or away from her mother, Marge checks her from head to toe for bugs and other dangers. Sometimes she refuses to let Grace leave the house at all. Because according to Marge, there are monsters out there. She calls them People Faces. They look human, but they aren't, and Marge believes that only she and Grace can see them.

As a child, Grace witnesses increasingly frightening behavior from her mother, including an incident in which Marge becomes convinced that a man she has been seeing is a People Face and tries to kill him in front of Grace. Eventually, Marge's delusions, and the murders she is accused of committing, land her in prison. Years later, Grace is left with the aftermath of a deeply traumatic childhood and gaps in her memory. Then Marge insists that she is innocent of the murders that put her behind bars, and Grace begins looking for the truth. 

The story alternates between present-day Grace and her childhood, and the two timelines work extremely well. Normally, jumping back and forth in time can make me twitchy, but here it serves a purpose. We are discovering Grace's past along with her, and what she remembers, or doesn't remember, matters.

What I particularly loved was how thoroughly the author made me question everyone. I started out absolutely convinced that Marge was dangerously delusional. Then I began questioning Grace's perception of events. Before long, I was side-eyeing her aunt Vivian and cousin Desi, too. At some point, apparently nobody in this family was getting through my imaginary psychological screening. The plot becomes increasingly disturbing and twisty as Grace searches for answers. Just when I thought I had some idea of what was happening, something shifted. I was completely blindsided.

This is psychological horror that gets under your skin. The idea of People Faces is creepy enough by itself, but the real horror comes from never being completely certain what (or whom) you should believe. It left me questioning what was real right along with Grace.

My only caution is that the beginning does take some time to build. Don't expect the story to come screaming out of the gate. For me, though, that slow buildup paid off enormously. By the latter part of the book, putting it down was no longer an option. Hence the 1 a.m. bedtime. And this book is DARK. It is definitely not for the faint-hearted. Content warnings include murder, violence, gore, childhood trauma, child abuse/endangerment, mental illness and delusions, and attempted murder.

Readers who enjoy dark psychological horror, unreliable memories, dysfunctional families, disturbing secrets, and mysteries that keep shifting underneath them should find plenty to love here. If you need likable, well-adjusted people making sensible life choices, however, you may have wandered into the wrong book.

Five stars. Nothing Human Left disturbed me, fooled me, and cost me sleep. With very little adaptation, I could easily see this becoming one seriously unsettling, award-worthy horror movie.

Thank you to Poisoned Pen Press and NetGalley for providing this ARC in exchange for my honest review.

 

The Pendleton Family's Guide to Accidental Murder by Brianna Heath

Nothing says family togetherness quite like Grandpa’s 91st birthday, a house full of criminals, and a dead body in the fountain. 

The entire Pendleton family is gathering at the family estate for Grandpa’s birthday, and Em is trying to keep everything under control. She is the organizer of the family, the one with the spreadsheets, the schedules, and apparently the ability to keep a collection of grifters, thieves, and contract killers functioning as something resembling a family. She’s the only Pendleton who hasn’t chosen a criminal “specialty” of her own, preferring to stay in the background and help everyone else with theirs. Unfortunately, everyone arrives early.

For Em, this may be the first crime of the weekend.

Then a body turns up in the fountain. The man has been stabbed, nobody seems to know who he is or why he was there, and considering the Pendleton family résumé, the suspect list is rather inconveniently close to home.

Running alongside the murder mystery is a second storyline beginning several weeks earlier, when an inept private investigator continues his predecessor’s legacy of digging into the Pendletons. He is determined to expose the family and finally bring at least one of them to justice. The two storylines gradually work their way toward each other, adding another layer to the mystery without giving away too much too soon.

Em was easily my favorite character. I loved that the person holding this entire criminal enterprise together is armed primarily with organizational skills and spreadsheets. I also found it hysterical that she can manage the complicated lives of her relatives but cannot be bothered to remember the names of her nieces and nephews, referring to them simply as Things 1 through 4.

Even better, Em is genuinely appalled to discover that members of her family are lying to her.

Ma’am. They are criminals.

The humor throughout the book is tongue-in-cheek rather than slapstick, and much of it comes from the Pendletons treating completely abnormal situations as ordinary family business. That worked very well for me.

The mystery itself was solid and kept me interested. I wanted to know who the dead man was, why he was on the property, and, perhaps most importantly, which member of this highly suspicious family put him in the fountain.

My biggest complaint was the romance. There were moments when I wanted the story to stop worrying about who might be attracted to whom, whose feelings were getting hurt, and return to the more pressing matter at hand.

Priorities, people! There is a dead man in the fountain!

Those moments occasionally earned an eye roll from me because the mystery and the wonderfully dysfunctional Pendleton family were more than enough to hold my attention. I didn’t need the romantic elements competing for page space while I was busy trying to solve a murder.

Still, this was a good, solid four-star read. It kept me entertained and curious, and I genuinely enjoyed Em and the bizarre family she somehow manages to keep functioning. It didn’t keep me up past my bedtime, and the dust bunnies remained in moderate danger, but I had fun.

Readers who enjoy quirky family mysteries, dark humor, criminal hijinks, LGBTQ+ representation, and some romance mixed with their murder should have a good time with the Pendletons. Readers looking for a darker crime thriller or a tightly focused murder investigation may find the romantic side plots a little more distracting.

Content warnings should include murder, violence, drowning/death by drowning, and criminal activity. Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for the advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review.

 

You Girls Play Nice by KD Aldyn

I didn't clean the house today. And who needs food?

I received an ARC of You Girls Play Nice by KD Aldyn from NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press in exchange for an honest review.

This book consumed my entire day. I don't remember if I ate. Who needs food when there is rage, revenge, female friendship, and a murder trial that goes spectacularly wrong?

The story opens at the end of a sexual assault and murder trial. Rebel, Jackie, Sue, and Willow sit through every day of the proceedings, desperate for justice for their murdered friend. Instead, the accused, Daniel, walks free after being found not guilty on all charges. The women try to move on, but grief, anger, and unanswered questions have a way of festering. Years later, the friends begin discussing hypothetical ways they would kill Daniel if they ever chose revenge. Hypothetically, of course. Because nothing says “healthy closure” quite like plotting imaginary murder over drinks.

This book does not waste time easing readers into the story. It drops you directly into the emotional wreckage and lets the tension build from there. The pacing was excellent, and I flew through this book in a single sitting because I needed to know where it was heading.

What really made the story work for me was the friendship between the four women. They each felt distinct and believable instead of blending together. Rebel absolutely lived up to her name, Jackie was quietly intellectual, Willow brought warmth and optimism even while doubting herself, and Sue grounded the group. Their friendships felt layered and authentic, especially the smaller bonds within the larger group dynamic. These women loved each other, protected each other, frustrated each other, and carried their grief differently.

The revenge discussions were some of the strongest scenes in the book because they felt disturbingly understandable. The women are not presented as cartoon vigilantes. They are grieving women failed by the justice system, trying to cope with unbearable anger. The moral grayness of those conversations kept pulling me deeper into the story because part of me understood exactly why they were having them.

I also appreciated how emotionally tense the story felt throughout. This was not simply a mystery about solving a murder. It explored the aftermath of trauma, the damage left behind by violence against women, and what happens when justice and legality are not the same thing.

The reveal genuinely surprised me. Looking back, the clues were there, but I completely underestimated one character because I assumed they were only a minor player in the story. My only small critique is that I would have liked a little more development surrounding the larger villain operating behind the scenes and covering for Daniel. That said, it did not lessen my enjoyment of the book at all.

This was an easy five-star read for me. Readers who enjoy darker psychological thrillers and morally messy stories will probably love this, especially fans of Karin Slaughter. Content warnings should include violence against women, sexual assault, murder, grief, and trauma.

Hysteria by LJ Ross (Alexander Gregory #2)

Beautiful people, fake identities, psychological trauma, and murder? Paris Fashion Week has really escalated.

Hysteria was a five-star read for me. I picked it up intending to read a few chapters and ended up devouring the entire thing in one sitting. This is absolutely a psychological thriller, and an exceptionally well-done one at that.

Dr. Alexander Gregory is called to Paris during Fashion Week after the attempted murder of a model whose identity appears to have been fabricated only weeks earlier. Then another model turns up dead, and suddenly the glamorous world of high fashion starts feeling less like luxury and more like a pressure cooker waiting to explode. Beneath the beauty and wealth is rot, secrets, manipulation, and people who are very much not what they seem.

What I loved most about this book was the characterization, especially Gregory himself. He is brilliant and respected in his field, but still deeply human. He makes mistakes. He struggles. His night terrors and mental health challenges felt believable and respectfully handled rather than exaggerated for drama. In fact, I think those struggles are what make him so good at understanding other people. He recognizes suffering because he lives with it himself, and that gave the story emotional weight beyond the murder investigation.

The pacing hooked me immediately and never let go. Every time I thought I understood who I could trust, the author quietly removed the entire floor from under me. I genuinely did not see the reveal coming. Even more impressive, the twist felt earned rather than random. 

I also really appreciated the humor. It was dry, sarcastic, and occasionally dark in exactly the right way. In a story dealing with murder, trauma, and psychological strain, those moments kept the book from ever feeling emotionally heavy in a tedious way.

Honestly I can’t think of a single critique. I didn’t even roll my eyes once while reading, which thriller readers know is practically a miracle. The plot stayed believable, the tension stayed high, and the characters remained compelling throughout. I even liked the villain…until the ending made me rethink everything.

Content warnings for murder, abuse, and mental health struggles.

I would highly recommend this to fans of psychological thrillers, especially readers who enjoy damaged but believable investigators, morally complicated characters, and mysteries where appearances are constantly deceiving.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for providing me with an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review.

When They Find Me by Carter Wilson

Survival thriller with predators, trauma, and enough tension to ruin your blood pressure.

When They Find Me is one of those books that takes a little patience in the beginning, but once the pieces start falling into place, it becomes genuinely unsettling, and I enjoyed that.

The story follows Annie, a woman hiding in a small town with her daughter, Coral, while another timeline follows Riven, a young girl being raised by her father, Coyote, and his son Boone in an isolated and deeply disturbing “pack” mentality. Those two timelines will collide, but initially I struggled a bit because we are dropped directly into survival mode without much context. I knew Annie was terrified and hiding, and I knew Riven was being prepared to kill someone, but I didn’t yet understand why. That confusion made it harder for me to connect immediately.

Once Part 2 started revealing the backstory, though, everything started falling into place for me. I finally understood exactly what Annie and Coral were running from. When the timelines collided and Coyote, Boone, and Riven invaded the safety of Annie’s isolated home during a snowstorm, I was genuinely nervous for them.

Coyote was probably the most memorable character for me because he felt terrifyingly believable. His obsession with turning his children into “pack animals” instead of fully human individuals created this constant sense of dread throughout the novel. You cannot reason with someone like that, and the book understands this. Boone felt more like an extension of Coyote’s violence, while Riven became increasingly interesting as the story unfolded. She starts as someone completely controlled by fear and manipulation, but little cracks begin forming as she starts questioning her role in her father’s world.

The book explores a lot of heavy themes: survival versus truly living, predatory behavior, male dominance and control over women, trauma, consequences, and mental illness. I appreciated that the psychological elements added to the danger rather than feeling exaggerated just for shock value. Unfortunately, people like Coyote exist, and that realism made the story even more disturbing.

That said, the slow and somewhat confusing beginning kept this from being a full five-star read for me. I understand why the author structured it this way, but it took me a while to feel grounded in the story. Once I was invested, though, I flew through the rest of the book.

Overall, I’m giving When They Find Me 4 out of 5 stars. I would recommend it to readers who enjoy dark psychological thrillers, character-driven suspense, survival stories, and small-town thrillers with heavy emotional tension.

Content warnings for violence, predatory behavior, psychological trauma, manipulation, mental illness themes, and threats against women and children.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for providing me with an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Missing Molly by Natalie Barelli

A thriller without urgency is just people making questionable decisions for 300 pages.

I really wanted to enjoy Missing Molly because the premise had all the ingredients for a tense, fast-paced thriller: a missing girl living under a new identity, a murdered family, the wrong man imprisoned for the crime, and the terrifying possibility that the real killer has resurfaced years later. Unfortunately, while the setup was compelling, the execution never fully pulled me in.

Rachel Holloway, who is revealed to be the missing Molly Forster, was difficult for me to connect with as a protagonist. Many of her choices felt unrealistic and frustrating rather than suspenseful. At one point, knowing the real killer may have returned, she still invites him into her home around her boyfriend and young child. Instead of increasing the tension, moments like this pulled me out of the story because her actions often did not feel emotionally believable.

I also struggled with the pacing. For a thriller, the story lacked the urgency and suspense I was expecting. I kept waiting for the tension to build, but I never felt that “just one more chapter” momentum that usually keeps me glued to a thriller late into the night. Ironically, I found myself more interested in what happened during the years Molly spent in hiding than in the present-day storyline itself.

The psychiatric hospital subplot also felt more like a convenient way to create conflict than a natural progression of the story. Combined with Rachel’s increasingly erratic behavior and an unsupportive relationship with her boyfriend, it became difficult to emotionally invest in the characters or their choices.

That said, I can still appreciate the potential behind the concept, and I think readers who enjoy slower-paced domestic suspense with unreliable or emotionally unstable narrators may connect with this more than I did. Unfortunately, I never felt fully engaged, surprised, or emotionally invested in the outcome.

Overall, this one landed at 2 stars for me. I finished it mostly out of determination rather than genuine suspense, which is never quite what I hope for in a thriller.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for providing me with an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review.