I get it now. After reading this book, I finally understand the appeal of the unreliable narrator.

Up till now, for more than a decade, I did not understand. In fact, I've been so befuddled by it all, I've had to engage in deceit in order not to broadcast my lack of understanding. Because you see, during all this time, whenever anyone professed their love for domestic thrillers and the ubiquitous unreliable narrator, I've smiled and nodded along as if I also love those things. But in actuality, I had no idea what they were going on about.

The unreliable narrators I've come across thus far had me under the mistaken impression that they must be of a very specific mold—always female, imbibing to the point of incoherence, acting unfathomably loony and paranoid, and going on and on about how no one believes them. In other words, a most unpleasant character there to frustrate the heck out of the reader and cause maximum eye-rolling and hair-tearing. You can see how I did not understand why anyone would love that.

So to read Gone Girl feels like both a Eureka moment and a recognition—oh there you are, you compelling unreliable narrator, I've finally found you!

What made this story work for me when so many others have failed? Well, the unreliable narrators here are smart, cunning, and sober, in other words the complete opposite of what I'm used to. No dumb, drunk, paranoid lush here, thank you very much.

But it's more than that. The way the story unfolds is pretty brilliant too. You think you know what's going on, then the rug is pulled out from under you and everything you thought you knew changes. Both of the two main characters are unlikable but undeniably fascinating, and you want to keep turning the pages to see what they'd do next.

And the writing is so sharp and precise, there to match perfectly to each situation and every version of the characters. There are so many insightful observations thrown in, about our culture and its ups and downs, about people and their hopes and dreams, and most of all, about marriage. At its heart, what made this story so disturbing is that there is a lot of truth written into this dark tale beneath all the exaggerations.

Was this the perfect book? No, at least not for me. I did find the beginning rather slow and (what turned out to be justifiably) pretentious, the characters and the plot a tad over the top, and the ending somewhat lackluster after all that buildup. But honestly, that's just because domestic thrillers are never going to be my favorite thing.

Still, it was a lot of fun to read the book that kicked off the craze. With how popular this book is and how much it influenced all that came after, it just wasn't possible to go into this completely blind. I went in already knowing about unreliable narrators and also having an inkling of what to expect. (Many years ago, I made the regrettable decision to read the synopsis of the movie in a moment of weakness.) And yet, even with all that, this still managed to surprise and entertain me.

And most importantly, now I finally understand what everyone's talking about.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Am I getting too old and cynical for romances? Say it ain't so!

I have trouble passing up books with the word "bodyguard" in its description (cue "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston). In fact, I picked up the first book of this series solely because I wanted to read this one. The princess and the bodyguard is a pairing as old as time, not to mention absolutely swoon-worthy, and before I cracked open the first page, I was filled to the brim with anticipatory glee for all the fun I was about to have.

And for the most part, I enjoyed the story itself. It was a bit long-winded, but compared to instalove, I'll take a slow burn any day. While this didn't break any new ground and is pretty much what you'd expect from the trope, it was still fun. Rhys the Bodyguard is all like I take security very seriously ma'am, and Bridget the Princess is all like you can't tell me what to do. I'm totally on board with that.

And yet. Yet, yet, yet. I feel like something was missing. Was it better chemistry, more snarky banter? I'm not sure. All I know is what I got felt like a paler version of what it could've been. Or maybe the problem is me and I built this up so much in my head, nothing could possibly meet it.

One thing I do know for sure is that Ana Huang's male characters are a bit too much for me. They're so sexed up and possessive, it's hard to take them seriously. They way they talk and act, you'd think they came straight from the chest-thumping Stone Age. No other man can even look at their women, lest glares and threats erupt from their mouths. They're constantly like, Who do you belong to? Me! And that's more or less verbatim.

And the sex scenes. Ugh, I feel like such an old fuddy duddy for saying this, but they were so frequent and unrealistic in that porny way, I was cringing with embarrassment for the characters. I enjoyed the first third of the book so much more simply because there was no sex in it. But the last two-thirds felt like every other scene was dramatic sex, and I was so over it.

It's hard to really enjoy a story if I'm cringing my way through so much of it, and that's what happened here. Obviously, romances are personal, and this is clearly a case where my tastes just don't quite line up with the author's. And there's nothing wrong with that. Plenty of readers love this series; I just wish I were one of them.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Wow, this was so over the top. Usually I reserve my suspension of disbelief skill for thrillers, but it sure came in handy here.

Sometimes I look at my long TBR, and nothing strikes my fancy. I just want to take a break from it all. I want something light and fun, a guilty pleasure if you will. And this totally fit the bill. Ana Huang has been on my list of authors to try, and this seemed like the right book to start, both being her most popular and having the irresistible grumpy/sunshine trope.

Of all the romance tropes out there, grumpy/sunshine is probably my all-time fav. What's not to like about a happy, bubbly gal poking fun at and slowly thawing the heart of an uptight, don't-know-how-to-smile guy who takes everything too seriously? So I was all set to enjoy the heck out of this from beginning to end, the way you would any guilty pleasure.

And I loved the beginning. There was so much funny banter, I had a smile permanently affixed to my face. Facial pain is generally bad, but when it comes from smiling too much? Sign me up any day.

But then as the story went on, it became too much. Ava is the most sunshine of all sunshine girls (Alex's nickname for her is even "Sunshine"), while Alex is so ruthless he threatens ruin and death upon anyone who gets in his way, including those who have the gall to talk to his girl. Okaaay. It's one thing to be dark and broody, but to be so jealous as to actually be murderous? Come on! I love grumpy as much as the next reader, but that's taking it a step too far.

And the villains in here are such caricatures of villains, with their face all "twisted" into a "hideous mask", complete with eyes that "gleamed with delighted malice" and mouth spreading into a "mocking smile". And that's right after you confront them, when they could just deny everything and no one would be the wiser.

Still, to the book's credit, I chomped it up in a jiffy, so I must've been entertained through all the shenanigans even if they were a bit much. And I feel strangely compelled to continue with the series, the ultimate sign of a guilty pleasure working its magic. So there you have it, my first Ana Huang.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Sometimes when the premise is really good, maybe there's just nowhere better for the story to go.

When Frances was a teenager, she receives a bone-chilling fortune that she'll be murdered one day. She then spends the rest of her life trying to prevent it. But lo and behold, 60 years later, murder comes for her. Now it's up to her great-niece Annie to find the killer and earn her inheritance.

You have to admit, that's a pretty darn interesting premise. And the title certainly plays it up. In fact, I think this might just be one of the most eye-catching titles I've ever come across. So of course straight to the top of my TBR pile it goes. I couldn't wait to dig in.

And initially, I was hooked. I just love all the possibilities when you're starting a new mystery. Especially here because Annie is also looking into the disappearance of Frances' best friend Emily, so we're really getting a twofer for the price of one. The story's certainly not shy about casting suspicions this way, then that way. There's an interesting list of characters, all of whom could be friend or foe. It was a delightful start in the way that only cozy mysteries can be.

But then slowly and surely, I started becoming less excited. For one thing, when it came to the characters and the way they interact, there's something a little off about it all. It was stilted and contrived, as if every character was playing a part and knew it. The dialogue lacks that natural volleying back and forth that's essential to being authentic, often leaving me feeling like I'm just reading a bunch of non sequiturs. It's as if the author wanted certain results from each scene and kind of forced the dialogue and interactions to achieve it.

The other thing is that I had a lot of trouble keeping all the characters straight. We have two timelines, and some characters appear in one and some in both. But since Annie isn't a direct descendent of Frances, but rather her great-niece, I started losing track of all the different branches of the family tree and everyone's spouses and children, along with their relationships to each other. It was really confusing.

As for the mystery itself, honestly, that fell short for me too. I'm not expecting Agatha Christie (really, no one can reach the great dame), but when a book compares itself to Knives Out and The Thursday Murder Club, I have certain expectations. And this didn't really meet that, not even close. It feels like there were all these clues and then they just didn't really go anywhere. And the final solution didn't wow me so much as leave me vaguely puzzled, and I'm still not sure I understood how it all went down.

It's never good when a mystery ends in puzzlement rather than amazement. No doubt cozy mystery aficionados will find this a worthy read, but for everyone else, the jury's still out.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

I don't know what's wrong with me. Obviously, I enjoyed this. I really did. But I can't help feeling grumpy that I didn't love it as thoroughly as I thought I would.

On the surface, this should've been a 5-star read for me. When you put together things like adopted human daughter of a vampire king, a legendary tournament where only one can survive, and a forbidden attraction between two contestants—one human and one vampire—it all sounds so good. If ever there was something right up my alley, this would be it. So what's my problem? Honestly, I'm still trying to figure that out.

I think part of the issue for me was that there was so much fighting and not enough characterization. The tournament has five parts and we are treated to detailed descriptions of every play-by-play, along with countless wounds and gashes and blood galore. In fact, the sheer amount of injuries in here is quite eyebrow-raising considering we only follow a few characters. And since everyone heals quickly and gets injured again immediately, I soon lost track of it all.

I also found Oraya to be rather one-dimensional. I'm all for my female characters to be badass, but what is her personality other than fight first and talk later? Sure, she is distrusting and stab-happy, but that doesn't paint a picture of a real person to me. And she keeps mentioning how vampires don't have a sense of humor, but it's hard for me to see her sense of humor when she just keeps stabbing everyone.

Not really connecting with Oraya made it hard for me to see what Raihn saw in her, which in turn made it hard for me to understand the romance in here. It seems like Oraya disliked Raihn for a long time, and then all of a sudden, she likes him. And Raihn was attracted to her for no reason I could discern other than she keeps stabbing him.

Each of these complaints, while small on their own, just added to the feeling that the whole thing wasn't really gelling together for me. Whenever I read a story, I want that immersive experience, and this is especially true with fantasy. It's a chance to escape the real world and wholly commit myself to another. So it's always a bit disappointing when I don't get that, and it feels like I'm just reading words on a page, however good they may be.

And make no mistake, this is a well-written fantasy with a lot of potential and a lot of depth. There is a rich world here (and I realized halfway through there is a glossary to help me keep it all straight). And the book did eventually grab me, with the last hundred pages being so full of revelations and surprises, I think my mouth was hanging open the whole time. It finally became as exciting and riveting as I'd hoped for.

Still, I can't help but wish the whole book had been more like the finale. Maybe my expectations were just too high here. I wanted to be enthralled and captivated and completely riveted from beginning to end. Instead, I was merely entertained for the majority. I kept waiting for the moment when the story would grab me and not let go, and that didn't really happen until the very end.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

This is one of those well-lauded books that I felt a bit hesitant going in. I assumed it was targeted for a certain audience—either those who gravitate towards stories about complicated friendships, or gamers. I'm not sure either of those are me, so what would I get out of it?

And when I first started, I thought for sure I'd made a mistake. The first chapter was so overwritten, coming across as both pretentious and off-putting, and I cringed my way through it. I thought to myself, this is it. The book that everyone loves, I'd either have to give up on or end up writing a lowly-rated review and be subjected to comments about brain deficiency.

I took a break and then decided to give it another chance. Chapter 2 was a little bit better. And then we come to Chapter 3, and bam! I was hooked. It's not an understatement to say that the scene with Dov teaching the Advanced Games seminar class was my favorite of the whole book and it's what sold me on reading it.

From then on, every moment related to designing or making video games, I was totally there for. Before I started, if you'd told me that that would be the part I'd enjoy the most, I would've been surprised. I wouldn't categorize myself as a gamer since I've probably only loved one video game my whole life. (That was Animal Crossing, first on the GameCube and then almost 20 years later as Animal Crossing: New Horizons on the Switch.)

But then when I think about it, I shouldn't have been surprised. The way this book talks about games, they're really presented as more like stories, albeit ones where the reader can participate in and influence the direction and outcome. And I'm certainly a reader of the most passionate sort.

I'm also a software engineer with a little bit of experience making video games on the side, so of course the technical aspects of Sam and Sadie's ventures totally appealed to me. Reading about their projects is more or less like reading about work—which I normally avoid like the plague—but somehow this book made it exciting.

I can't help but wish the games were real. I want to play them and capture the feelings reading about them evoked in me. And I also want to know everything that went into making them. If this were a biography on a real video game company, I would've loved it from cover to cover and completely gobbled it up.

But it wasn't, and as a result, this wasn't a perfect story for me. It very much centers around Sam and Sadie's friendship, and that was pretty much the weakest part. I didn't really connect with either of the characters. All their issues were the result of the dreaded miscommunication trope, where one or the other refuses to say what they mean, leading to misunderstandings. And this went on and on, through many years.

My other issue with the story is that it includes a certain development that comes out of nowhere, seemingly for no other reason than to beat down the characters, thus eliciting tugs of the heartstrings and upping the emotional ante. And I'm just not a fan. It doesn't add anything to the story and it left me feeling somewhat emotionally manipulated.

I also have to point out that the story at times feels like it's a bit too clever with its verbiage. Like at one point, this book conjured up the only two literary characters who know what "jejune" means and put them in a conversation with each other. While that's an impressive use of the thesaurus, it detracts a bit from the story being told.

But I don't think my experience with the book is typical. A lot of other readers praise the depiction of Sam and Sadie's relationship and declare their love for the book despite the video game segments. I'm pretty much the complete opposite. But even coming from two different directions, it seems we have all reached the same conclusion, and that's our collective enjoyment for this supremely interesting story. And in the end, that's all that really matters.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

This was a pick for my Book of the Month box. Get your first book for $5 here.

Oh yes I do enjoy a humorous thriller, thank you very much!

When it comes to this genre, it often feels like it's a race to see who's got the darkest, grittiest, most nail-biting, anxiety-inducing story. And that's all good and fine. But I don't always want dark, darker, darkest. Sometimes, I just want a bit of fun, and Listen for the Lie is exactly that.

From the very first page, this was unputdownable. The format of alternating between Lucy and the podcast and having each chapter be nice and short kept me turning the pages, wanting to read just one more page. The podcast transcripts were surprisingly engaging, with every character dishing on every other character and stirring up small-town drama.

I was worried this would turn out to be another one of those dreaded unreliable narrator situations, where the main female character drinks to excess and indulges in woe-is-me pity parties. But thankfully it wasn't. Instead, Lucy's voice is so fresh and wickedly honest. She's often sarcastic and funny, and it sets the tone for an extremely entertaining read.

As for the actual mystery itself, my feelings are a bit mixed. On the one hand, this story certainly doesn't scrimp on the twists and turns just because it's humorous. We are directed one way, then another. You never know what's going to happen next, and that's always great fun. I suspect there are enough surprises here to satisfy even the most seasoned of thriller junkies.

But on the other hand, calling this a "world-class whodunit" (I'm looking at you, Stephen King) is taking it a step too far. As is typical of modern thrillers, there aren't really clues. You find out each twist as the book reveals it to you, often via the podcast interviews. Apparently—and I must try this in real life—you just need to badger people with enough questions and they'll tell you all their secrets. And eventually, Lucy remembers the whole thing and that's the denouement. It did feel a bit anticlimactic after all that buildup.

Small quibble aside, I thoroughly enjoyed this. It's always a great delight to find a book that keeps you up past your bedtime and even though you know you're going to pay for it the next day, you just don't care.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars