Book Review: The Surgeon by Tess Gerritsen

In Boston there's a killer on the loose. A killer who targets lone women, who breaks into their apartments and performs terrifying ritualistic acts of torture on his victims before finishing them off. His surgical skills lead police to suspect he is a physician- a physician who, instead of saving lives, takes them.
But as homicide detective Thomas Moore and his partner Jane Rizzoli begin their investigation, they make a startling discovery. Closely linked to these killings is Catherine Cordell, a beautiful medic with a mysterious past. Two years ago she was subjected to a horrifying rape and attempted murder but shot her attacker dead. Now she is being targeted by this new killer who appears to know all about her past, her work at the Pilgrim Medical Center and where she lives. The man she believes she killed seems to be stalking her once again, and this time he knows exactly where to find her...

The Surgeon is the first in the Rizzoli and Isles series and the first book by Tess Gerritsen that I have read, I thought it was brilliant.
I have been searching for a good thriller writer for ages, I wanted something similar to Sophie Hannah and I think I may have found it.
Thomas Moore and Jane Rizzoli are working on the case where the murderer tortures his victims while they are still awake  and then finishes them off with a single slit to the throat. They can see that the murderer is clean, tidy and methodical and almost certainly has some kind of medical knowledge.

Catherine Cordell becomes an integral part of their case. She escaped from a similar attack two years ago and killed her attacker so she is astounded to learn that someone else is torturing and killing women in the same way. It becomes personal as the killer communicates with her and it becomes clear that she is next on the list.
Tess Gerritsen has created very clear-cut , realistic characters. I really took to Thomas Moore, he is not the cliched detective that you find in many books of this genre which was extremely refreshing. The case takes on a whole new aspect when Thomas accepts that he has developed feelings for Catherine and she for him, I really enjoyed this part of the book.
We do not find out a massive amount about Jane Rizzoli in this book as the focus is more on Thomas but I do hope we learn more about her character as the series develops.
Tess Gerritsen writes some particularly chilling scenes in this book and the pace is just right, it only took me just over a day to read it as I was eager to find out what happened.
If you are after a good, page-turning thriller then I would very much recommend this book, it is a series I know I shall greatly enjoy.

Most Wanted Book Blogger Awards

Ooooh it's Christmas Eve, I hope that you are all in the festive spirit by now! I had a lovely surprise email recently telling me that I had been nominated in the Most Wanted Book Blogger Awards 2010, when I went along to find out more I was extremely humbled to see the other blogs on the list! I am in some exceedingly good company so believe they may have made a mistake in including me but if you have a spare few minutes then head over here and vote for your favourite blog and if that happens to be me then even better!  Right I am off in search of mince pies and cheesy Christmas films, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and I shall be back soon to see what Santa delivered for you all!

Nightshade Blog Tour Extract Plus Review

Nightshade by Andrea Cremer is being published by Atom on 28th December, today at Dot Scribbles we are hosting a day of the blog tour, here's the idea behind the book:

She can control her pack but not her heart. "I wanted him to kiss me, wished he could smell the desire that I knew was pouring off me. You can't Calla. This boy isn't the one for you. Calla Tor has always known her destiny: graduation, marriage and then a life leading her pack. But when she defies her master's laws to save a human boy, she must choose. Is one boy worth losing everything?

Nightshade by Andrea Cremer is a young adult fiction book that I will think will appeal to many readers upon publication next week.
The book has a huge mythological element to it, centered around the main character Calla Tor. There is a very strict hierarchy in Calla's world; she is a Guardian which means she is a wolf, her packs job is to protect the Keepers who are in charge of pretty much everyone and are not to be messed with.
Calla has the extra burden of being the alpha female of her pack, the Nightshades. She has always known that it will fall to her to make a union with Ren who is the alpha male of the Bane pack of wolves. Calla had accepted her future destiny and then Shay comes along, he is a human whose life Calla saved rather than going with her natural instinct to kill.
Ren and Shay both want Calla and it is easy to see why she is torn between the two as they are both good, neither is the villain. Andrea Cremer really does build up the tension between these three characters, it definitely keeps you turning the pages.
Nightshade leaves you on the edge of your seat at the very end, to find out what happens next we will have to wait for the second book, Wolfsbane which will be out in 2011, I think this is set to be a very exciting series.

Atom have very kindly given me an excerpt to share with you, it is from Chapter 2, part 2, to get the final extract then you just need to visit Once Upon a Bookcase tomorrow as the final excerpt will be there, enjoy!

When I opened the front door to my house, my body went rigid. I could smell the visitors. Aged parchment, fine wine: Lumine Nightshade’s scent exuded an aristocratic elegance. But her guards filled the house with an unbearable odour, boiling pitch and burnt hair.

“Calla?” Lumine’s voice dripped with honey.

I cringed, trying to gather my wits before I walked into the kitchen with my mouth glued shut. I didn’t want to taste the creatures as well as smell them.

Lumine sat at the table across from her pack’s current alpha, my father. She remained impossibly still, posture perfect, chocolate tresses caught in a chignon at the back of her neck. She wore her typical immaculate ebony suit and crisp high-collared white shirt. Two wraiths flanked her, looming shadow-like just over her slim shoulders.

I sucked in my cheeks so I could bite the insides. It was the only thing that kept me from baring my teeth at the bodyguards.

“Have a seat, my dear.” Lumine gestured to a chair.

I pulled the chair close to my father, crouching rather than sitting in it. I couldn’t relax with the wraiths nearby.

Does she already know about the violation? Is she here to order my execution?

“Little more than a month of waiting left, lovely girl,” she murmured. “Are you looking forward to your union?”

I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“Sure,” I said.

Lumine brought the tips of her fingers together in front of her face.

“Is that the only word you have to offer about your auspicious future?”

My father barked a laugh. “Calla’s not the romantic her mother is, Mistress.”

His tone remained confident, but his gaze fell on me. I ran my tongue along my canines, which were sharpening in my mouth.

“I see,” she said, eyes moving up and down my body.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Stephen, you might teach her better manners. I expect my alpha females to embody finesse. Naomi has always had the utmost grace in the role.”

She continued to watch me, so I couldn’t bare my teeth at her the way I wanted to.

Finesse, my ass. I’m a warrior, not your child bride.

“I thought you might be pleased with the match, dear girl,” she said. “You’re a beautiful alpha. And there hasn’t been a Bane male the likes of Renier before. Even Emile admits that. The union bodes well for all of us. You should be grateful to have such a mate.”

My jaw clenched, but I met her eyes without blinking.

“I respect Ren. He’s a friend. We’ll be fine together.”

A friend . . . sort of. Ren watches me like I’m a cookie jar he wouldn’t mind being caught with his hand in. And he’s not the one who’d pay for that theft. Though I’d been stuck with lock and key from day one of our betrothal, I hadn’t thought playing policeman over our relationship would be that hard. But Ren didn’t like to play by the rules. He was just tempting enough to make me wonder whether giving him a taste might be worth the risk.

“Fine?” Lumine repeated. “But do you desire the boy? Emile would be furious at the idea you might scoff at his heir.” She drummed her fingers on the table.

I stared at the floor, cursing the flames that raced over my cheeks. How the hell does desire matter when I’m not allowed to do anything about it? In that moment I hated her.

My father cleared his throat. “My lady, the union has been set since the children’s birth. The Nightshade and Bane packs remain committed to it. As are my daughter and Emile’s son.”

“Like I said, we’ll be fine,” I whispered. The hint of a growl escaped with my words.

Tinkling laughter brought my eyes back to the Keeper. As she watched me squirm, Lumine’s smile was patronizing. I glared at her, no longer able to hold in my outrage.

“Indeed.” Her gaze moved to my father. “The ceremony must not be interrupted or delayed. Under any circumstances.”

She rose and extended her hand. My father briefly pressed his lips to her pale fingers. She turned to me. I reluctantly took her vellum-like skin in my own hand, trying not to think about how much I wanted to bite her.

“All worthy females have finesse, my dear.” She touched my cheek, letting her nails scrape hard enough to make me flinch.

My stomach lurched.

Her stiletto heels struck a sharp staccato on the tile as she left the kitchen. The wraiths trailed behind her, their silence more disturbing than the unnerving rhythm of her steps. I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my cheek against them. I didn’t breathe again until I heard the front door close.

“You’re awfully tense,” my father said. “Did something happen on patrol?”

I shook my head. “You know I hate wraiths.”

“We all hate wraiths.”

I shrugged. “Why was she here anyway?”

“To discuss the union.”

“You’re kidding.” I frowned. “Just me and Ren?”

My father passed a weary hand over his eyes. “Calla, it would be helpful if you wouldn’t treat the union like a hoop to jump through. Far more is at stake than ‘just you and Ren.’ The formation of a new pack hasn’t occurred for decades. The Keepers are on edge.”

“Sorry,” I said, not meaning it.

“Don’t be sorry. Be serious.”

I sat up straight.

“Emile was here earlier today.” He grimaced.

“What?!” I gasped. “Why?”

I couldn’t imagine a civil conversation between Emile Laroche and his rival alpha.

My father’s voice was cold. “The same reason as Lumine.”

I buried my face in my hands, my cheeks once again on fire.

“Calla?”

“Sorry, Dad,” I said, swallowing my embarrassment. “It’s just that Ren and I get along fine. We’re friends, sort of. We’ve known the union was coming for a long time. I can’t see any problems with it. And if Ren does, that would be news to me. But this whole process would be much easier if everyone would just lay off. The pressure isn’t helping.”

He nodded. “Welcome to your life as an alpha. The pressure never helps. It also never goes away.”

“Great.” I sighed and rose from my chair. “I have homework.”

“Night, then,” he said quietly.

“Night.”

I hope that this has given you a taster of the book, check out the rest of the blog tour to find out more. 

Nightshade Blog Tour Dates

Just wanted to let you all know about the exciting blog tour that Atom have organised for the release of Nightshade, the tour will be visiting Dot Scribbles on Thursday 23rd December where there will be an exclusive extract plus I will be posting my review of this exciting new book.

Coming in 2011: A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness

Okay, I am particularly excited about A Discovery of Witches being published on 8th February 2011 by Headline. I was extremely lucky to receive a proof of this book and I thought it was brilliant, I will be posting my review in the new Year but I truly believe that A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness is going to be huge! Here's the idea behind the book:

When historian Diana Bishop opens a bewitched alchemical manuscript in the Bodleian Library  it's an unwelcome intrusion of magic into her carefully ordinary life. A witch of impeccable lineage, Diana has exposed herself to a world she has kept at bay for years. Sensing the significance of Diana's discovery, witches, vampires and daemons gather in Oxford, among them vampire geneticist Matthew Clairmont. Diana is inexplicably drawn to Matthew and in an shadowy world of half-truths and old enmities, ties herself to him without fully understanding the ancient line they are crossing...

See, sounds good doesn't it! It gets better, today, you can read the first chapter which has been split exclusively between myself and three very lovely bloggers. You simply  have to follow the trail:

For the first part, simply visit the lovely Carolyn at Book Chick City

To find out what happens next just visit Amanda at the fabulous Floor to Ceiling Books

Part three is right here on Dot Scribbles

Finally, for part four head over to Liz at the brilliant My Favourite Books

So here, to give you a taste of the book is the second excerpt from Chapter 1:

I shook myself and focused again on the dilemma that faced me. The manuscript sat on the library table in a pool of lamplight. Its magic pulled on something dark and knotted inside me. My fingers returned to the smooth leather. This time the prickling sensation felt familiar. I vaguely remembered experiencing something like it once before, looking through some papers on the desk in my father’s study.

    Turning resolutely away from the leather-bound volume, I occupied myself with something more rational: searching for the list of alchemical texts I’d generated before leaving New Haven. It was on my desk, hidden among the loose papers, book call slips, receipts, pencils, pens, and library maps, neatly arranged by collection and then by the number assigned to each text by a library clerk when it had entered into the Bodleian. Since arriving a few weeks ago, I had been working through the list methodically. The copied-out catalog description for Ashmole 782 read, ‘Anthropologia, or a treatis containing a short description of Man in two parts: the first Anatomical, the second Psychological.’ As with most of the works I studied, there was no telling what the contents were from the title.

    My fingers might be able to tell me about the book without even cracking open the covers. Aunt Sarah always used her fingers to figure out what was in the mail before she opened it, in case the envelope contained a bill she didn’t want to pay. That way she could plead ignorance when it turned out she owed the electric company money.

    The gilt numbers on the spine winked.

    I sat down and considered the options.

    Ignore the magic, open the manuscript, and try to read it like a human scholar?

    Push the bewitched volume aside and walk away?

    Sarah would chortle with delight if she knew my predicament. She had always maintained that my efforts to keep magic at arm’s length were futile. But I’d been doing so ever since my parents’ funeral. There the witches among the guests had scrutinized me for signs that the Bishop and Proctor blood was in my veins, all the while patting me encouragingly and predicting it was only a matter of time before I took my mother’s place in the local coven. Some had whispered their doubts about the wisdom of my parents’ decision to marry.

    ‘Too much power,’ they muttered when they thought I wasn’t listening. ‘They were bound to attract attention – even without studying ancient ceremonial religion.’

    This was enough to make me blame my parents’ death on the supernatural power they wielded and to search for a different way of life. Turning my back on anything to do with magic, I buried myself in the stuff of human adolescence – horses and boys and romantic novels – and tried to disappear among the town’s ordinary residents. At puberty I had problems with depression and anxiety. It was all very normal, the kindly human doctor assured my aunt.

    Sarah didn’t tell him about the voices, about my habit of picking up the phone a good minute before it rang, or that she had to enchant the doors and windows when there was a full moon to keep me from wandering into the woods in my sleep. Nor did she mention that when I was angry the chairs in the house rearranged themselves into a precarious pyramid before crashing to the floor once my mood lifted.

    When I turned thirteen, my aunt decided it was time for me to channel some of my power into learning the basics of witchcraft. Lighting candles with a few whispered words or hiding pimples with a time-tested potion – these were a teenage witch’s habitual first steps. But I was unable to master even the simplest spell, burned every potion my aunt taught me, and stubbornly refused to submit to her tests to see if I’d inherited my mother’s uncannily accurate second sight.

    The voices, the fires, and other unexpected eruptions lessened as my hormones quieted, but my unwillingness to learn the family business remained. It made my aunt anxious to have an untrained witch in the house, and it was with some relief that Sarah sent me off to a college in Maine. Except for the magic, it was a typical coming-of-age story.

    What got me away from Madison was my intellect. It had always been precocious, leading me to talk and read before other children my age. Aided by a prodigious, photographic memory – which made it easy for me to recall the layouts of textbooks and spit out the required information on tests – my schoolwork was soon established as a place where my family’s magical legacy was irrelevant. I’d skipped my final years of high school and started college at sixteen.

    There I’d first tried to carve out a place for myself in the theater department, my imagination drawn to the spectacle and the costumes – and my mind fascinated by how completely a playwright’s words could conjure up other places and times. My first few performances were heralded by my professors as extraordinary examples of the way good acting could transform an ordinary college student into someone else. The first indication that these metamorphoses might not have been the result of theatrical talent came while I was playing Ophelia in Hamlet. As soon as I was cast in the role, my hair started growing at an unnatural rate, tumbling down from shoulders to waist. I sat for hours beside the college’s lake, irresistibly drawn to its shining surface, with my new hair streaming all around me. The boy playing Hamlet became caught up in the illusion, and we had a passionate though dangerously volatile affair. Slowly I was dissolving into

Ophelia’s madness, taking the rest of the cast with me.

    The result might have been a riveting performance, but each new role brought fresh challenges. In my sophomore year, the situation became impossible when I was cast as Annabella in John Ford’s ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore’. Like the character, I attracted a string of devoted suitors – not all of them human – who followed me around campus. When they refused to leave me alone after the final curtain fell, it was clear that whatever had been unleashed couldn’t be controlled. I wasn’t sure how magic had crept into my acting, and I didn’t want to find out. I cut my hair short. I stopped wearing flowing skirts and layered tops in favor of the black turtlenecks, khaki trousers, and loafers that the solid, ambitious prelaw students were wearing. My excess energy went into athletics.

    After leaving the theater department, I attempted several more majors, looking for a field so rational that it would never yield a square inch to magic. I lacked the precision and patience for mathematics, and my efforts at biology were a disaster of failed quizzes and unfinished laboratory experiments.

    At the end of my sophomore year, the registrar demanded I choose a major or face a fifth year in college. A summer study program in England offered me the opportunity to get even farther from all things Bishop. I fell in love with Oxford, the quiet glow of its morning streets. My history courses covered the exploits of kings and queens, and the only voices in my head were those that whispered from books penned in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. This was entirely attributable to great literature. Best of all, no one in this university town knew me, and if there were witches in the city that summer, they stayed well away. I returned home, declared a major in history, took all the required courses in record time, and graduated with honors before I turned twenty.

    When I decided to pursue my doctorate, Oxford was my first choice among the possible programs. My specialty was the history of science, and my research focused on the period when science supplanted magic – the age when astrology and witch-hunts yielded to Newton and universal laws. The search for a rational order in nature, rather than a supernatural one, mirrored my own efforts to stay away from what was hidden. The lines I’d already drawn between what went on in my mind and what I carried in my blood grew more distinct.

    My Aunt Sarah had snorted when she heard of my decision to specialize in seventeenth-century chemistry. Her bright red hair was an outward sign of her quick temper and sharp tongue. She was a plain-speaking, no-nonsense witch who commanded a room as soon as she entered it. A pillar of the Madison community, Sarah was often called in to manage things when there was a crisis, large or small, in town. We were on much better terms now that I wasn’t subjected to a daily dose of her keen observations on human frailty and inconsistency.

    Though we were separated by hundreds of miles, Sarah thought my latest attempts to avoid magic were laughable – and told me so. ‘We used to call that alchemy,’ she said. ‘There’s a lot of magic in it.’

    ‘No, there’s not,’ I protested hotly. The whole point of my work was to show how scientific this pursuit really was. ‘Alchemy tells us about the growth of experimentation, not the search for a magical elixir that turns lead into gold and makes people immortal.’

    ‘If you say so,’ Sarah said doubtfully. ‘But it’s a pretty strange subject to choose if you’re trying to pass as human.’

    After earning my degree, I fought fiercely for a spot on the faculty at Yale, the only place that was more English than England. Colleagues warned that I had little chance of being granted tenure. I churned out two books, won a handful of prizes, and collected some research grants. Then I received tenure and proved everyone wrong.

    More important, my life was now my own. No one in my department, not even the historians of early America, connected my last name with that of the first Salem woman executed for witchcraft in 1692. To preserve my hard-won autonomy, I continued to keep any hint of magic or witchcraft out of my life. Of course there were exceptions, like the time I’d drawn on one of Sarah’s spells when the washing machine wouldn’t stop filling with water and threatened to flood my small apartment on Wooster Square. Nobody’s perfect.

    Now, taking note of this current lapse, I held my breath, grasped the manuscript with both hands, and placed it in one of the wedge-shaped cradles the library provided to protect its rare books. I had made my decision: to behave as a serious scholar and treat Ashmole 782 like an ordinary manuscript. I’d ignore my burning fingertips, the book’s strange smell, and simply describe its contents. Then I’d decide – with professional detachment – whether it was promising enough for a longer look. My fingers trembled when I loosened the small brass clasps nevertheless. 

Good isn't it! I couldn't put the book down once I had started it, it's a long one too, 592 pages to be exact but it is such a good read. Headline are really excited about this book and would like it to reach as many readers as possible so they are offering  a fabulous competition, 1 lucky person (UK only and must be 18 or over) can meet Deborah Harkness herself, have a chat and a cup of tea. Deborah will then give you a signed copy of the book plus a bottle of wine that she highly recommends (and she's an expert!), this can take place in either London or Oxford on 7th, 8th or 9th of March 2011, Headline have very generously offered to cover peoples travelling expenses on the day too. All you have to do is leave a comment saying you would like to meet the author and I shall pick one name and pass it on to Headline who will have the names from the other blog entrants and they shall pick one winner! If you know you couldn't make that day then don't worry, you can still win one of three signed copies of A Discovery of Witches, so when leaving a comment, just say which part you would like to enter, meeting the author on the day or winning a signed copy, please don't enter for both though. All entries need to be in the comments section by midnight on 31st December 2010 and you will then be notified in the new year! 

If you would like to find out a bit more about A Discovery of Witches then visit the book's website here

Deborah Harkness has her own website which you can  visit by clicking here, she is also on Twitter @DebHarkness

So, there you go, told you it was exciting! Good luck if you enter the competition, I shall be posting my review and a question and answer session with the author in the new year so come back and have a look at that too. 

Book Review: Hothouse Flower by Lucinda Riley

As a child, concert pianist Julia Forester would linger in the hothouse of Wharton Park estate, where exotic flowers tended by her grandfather blossomed and faded with the seasons.
Now, recovering from a family tragedy, she once more seeks comfort at Wharton Park, newly inherited by Kit Crawford, a charismatic man with a sad story of his own. But when a years-old diary is found during renovation work, the pair turn to Julia's grandmother to hear the truth about the love affair that turned Wharton Park's fortunes sour...

And so Julia is plunged back in time, to the world of Olivia and Harry Crawford, a young couple torn apart by the Second World Wat - and whose fragile marriage is destined to affect the happiness of generations to come, including Julia's own.

I had a good feeling about this book as soon as it arrived and it is definitely in my top 10 favourite reads of 2010. It has everything I love; history, romance, drama, mystery and a beautiful country estate right at the heart of it.
The book jumps between the present day and the time just before and after the Second World War. There are a fair few characters involved in the story but they are all connected the Wharton Park Estate in some way.
Lucinda Riley expertly builds up events in the book, her descriptions are beautifully rich and vivid. The book takes place in both England and Bangkok both provide a beautiful backdrop to the story.
The Second World War changes everything for the Crawford family as it did for so many others. The author shows how the war led people to make decisions and choices that may not have been made if they had not endured such a terrifying ordeal. It is these decisions and closely guarded secrets that Julia gradually uncovers. I don't want to give anything away but I was pleasantly surprised  by just how many twists and turns this book contains.
Hothouse Flower is a fabulous book, it really reminded me of Kate Morton's writing. The story was totally absorbing and I shall be looking out for further books by Lucinda Riley in the future.

The book is out now, many thanks to Penguin for sending me a copy to review.

Book Review: The Snowman by Jo Nesbo

First of all I am excited as I have hit my target of reading 100 books this year!!! Fan fare etc etc! I hope that you are all okay and  getting ready for Christmas, I'm sorry it's been a little quiet on here of late, we have had a lot of colds (man flu for Mr S) in the Scribbles household but we are all on the mend now and feeling much more festive! 

Here's the idea behind The Snowman which unfortunately is not of the Raymond Briggs variety:

A young man wakes to find his mother missing. Their house is empty but outside in the garden he sees his mother's favourite scarf- wrapped around the neck of a snowman.
As Harry Hole and his team begin their investigation they discover that an alarming number of wives and mothers have gone missing over the years.
When a second woman disappears it seems that Harry's worst suspicions are confirmed: for the first time in his career Harry finds himself confronted with a serial killer operating on his home turf.

I'm not sure if I had too high an expectation of this book as I didn't think it was great. i wanted to read something really gripping where I wouldn't be able to stop turning the pages but this failed to deliver.
I liked the feel of the book which I found to be very similar to Stieg Larsson and Henning Mankell but I didn't feel as though the story ever reached any kind of momentum.
The descriptions of the murders were chilling and I will never look at a snowman in the same way again but the investigation surrounding the murder cases was a little boring in parts.
I did quite like the character of Harry Hole so I may return to this series in the future; I have heard more positive reviews of The Redeemer so that might be one to try.
Have any of you read The Snowman? If you have any good crime/thriller recommendations then do please let me know as I can't seem to find a good one!

Book Review: The Hating Game by Talli Roland

When man-eater Mattie Johns agrees to star on a dating game show to save her ailing recruitment business, she's confident she'll sail through to the end without letting down the perma guard she's perfected from years of her love 'em and leave 'em dating strategy. After all, what can go wrong with dating a few losers and hanging out long enough to pick up a juicy £50,000 prize? Plenty, Mattie discovers, when it's revealed that the contestants are four of her very unhappy exes. Can Mattie confront her past to get the prize money she so desperately needs, or will her exes finally wreak their long-awaited revenge? And what about the ambitious TV producer whose career depends on stopping her from making it to the end. Who will win The Hating Game?

I was very lucky to receive an ARC from the lovely Talli Roland, I really liked the sound of The Hating Game and I've very much enjoyed reading it.
Mattie Johns is not a particularly nice character and I think this is what gave the book quite an original edge. She gets slightly more likable as the book goes on but I wouldn't want to go for a drink with her.
I think Talli really explores the terrifying world of reality TV within the book. Mattie only gets involved because she is desperate for the money. Once she has signed the contract, there is no going back and it becomes clear very quickly that the program makers are only interested in rating figures rather than Mattie's well-being and happiness. I loved the cut-throat way that Talli portrayed the TV people as I really do think that is how they are. I had a lot of sympathy for Mattie on that instance as it is though she has stepped on a roller coaster that she has no way of getting off.
The actual idea behind the TV show is also very good, it makes the reader think about what they would do if confronted with ex-boyfriends who they were hoping never to see again.
The Hating Game is a highly original and witty  book. I really enjoyed the writing and I thought it was so relevant to current times where we are bombarded with reality TV shows.
The paperback version of the book is out on 3rd March 2001 but if you can't wait that long then you can get the Kindle version on Amazon for just £1.90, a complete bargain!

Book Review: Twelve Days of Christmas by Trisha Ashely

The festive season has always been a sad time for young widow Holly Brown, so when she's asked to look after a remote house on the Lancashire moors, it's the perfect excuse to forget about the festivities.
The owner of the house, Jude Martland is also avoiding Christmas since the last one saw his brother run off with his fiancee. But forced to return home unexpectedly, Jude arrives to find that all his family are running amok- with Holly seemingly at the centre of it all.
As the blizzards descend, there is no escape. With nowhere to go, Holly and Jude get much more than they bargained for and it soon looks like the twelve days of Christmas are going to be very interesting indeed.

If i had to pick one word to describe this lovely book then I would choose cosy. You just want to get comfy on the sofa with a big cup of tea and keep turning the pages.
Holly Brown has had a life full of tragic events, she has already lost her parents and her husband, when we first meet her, she is just coming to terms with her Gran's recent death. Holly's gran provides a mysterious element to the story; Holly takes her recently found journals to read and discovers that her Gran may have suffered a tragic event during her life too. Each chapter begins with a small journal extract so we find things out at the same time as Holly does.
I love it when there is a big house involved in the story and Old Place does not disappoint. Jude Martland's house is on the secluded Lancashire moors so when the bad weather sets in, Holly ends up with Jude's whole family turning up for sanctuary. Holly doesn't usually celebrate Christmas so preparing a big family festive celebration is quite a novelty to her. She likes to live quite a solitary life but when she is thrust into this large and vibrant family, she finds that she is actually very much enjoying herself.
I will admit that I fell in love with Jude Martland, I always fall for the mysterious, brooding types. We first meet him over the telephone and Jude and Holly don't exactly hit it off. However, the tension between them gradually becomes something else when Jude returns home unexpectedly.
Twelve Days of Christmas is such a good read. There is a lot of humour and many festive references but right at the heart of it is a love story and we all like one of those at Christmas time.

 Thank you to Harper Collins/Avon for sending me this lovely book to review.