FTC: I received a free copy of this book from Book Publicity Services in exchange for my honest review. I received no other compensation and the opinions expressed in this review are one hundred percent true and my own.
What She Never Said by Catharine Riggs wasn’t my favorite book that I have read lately. Ruth bothered my right from the start and that didn’t change throughout the entire book. I wasn’t the biggest fan of her personality and I also didn’t like some of the things that she did. This book didn’t keep me on the edge of my seat as I was reading it but it did hold my interest as I was reading. This is a book that I would read a few chapters and then put it down but I always came back to it because I wanted to know how it was going to end. I did like Zach and I felt bad for him because of everything that happened to him in the past. I did love that this author was able to make me hate certain characters and love others. I show me that the author was able to write in a way that made all of the characters come to life as I was reading. The ending wasn’t a big surprise but it also didn’t leave me hating it either. I enjoyed this book but isn’t wasn’t one that I would rave about either. If you are looking for a new thriller to read I would check this one out because I think most people would enjoy it.
About The Book
Genre: Psychological Suspense Published by: Thomas & Mercer Publication Date: September 10, 2019 Number of Pages: 377 ISBN: 1542042135 (ISBN13: 9781542042130) Series: Santa Barbara Suspense #2
How much would you pay to keep a secret? Ruth Mosby is the VP of operations at Serenity Acres, where the privileged elite go to die. For a hefty fee, wealthy retirees can live the good life in this posh Santa Barbara community—even after they outlive their money. But the savvy new boss has a new rule: if you can’t pay, you can’t stay.
Guests whisper about an “Angel” who assists with suicides. Ruth has another word for it: murder.
Ruth enlists her neighbor, an ex-detective named Zach, to discover the Angel’s secret identity. However, the two have a painful history, and Ruth has dark secrets all her own. To solve the mystery, Ruth must descend her golden tower—but can she bear the consequences of revealing her own sinister truths?
Why Readers LOVE What She Never Said:
“Riggs keeps the tension high to the dramatic climax.” —Publishers Weekly “What She Never Said is a fast-paced, compulsive read—and I speak as a slow-paced, easily distracted reader.” —Ashley Dyer, award-winning author of the Lake & Carver series. “A compelling read that will keep you awake well into the night.” —T.R. Ragan, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Beneath the weight of metastasizing secrets, idyllic veneers buckle to reveal shocking truths that will haunt readers long after the final page. —P. J. Vernon, acclaimed author of the debut thriller, When You Find Me
About The Author
Catharine Riggs lives and writes on California’s central coast. Before her dive into thrillers, Riggs worked as a business banker, adjunct college instructor, and a nonprofit executive. What She Never Said is the second novel in her loosely linked Santa Barbara Suspense series. The first, What She Gave Away, was published by Thomas & Mercer in September of 2018.
Catch Up With Catharine Riggs On: http://www.CatharineRiggs.com, Goodreads, & BookBub, Twitter!
Buy A Copy
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Let’s Be Friends
Enter To Win
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Catharine Riggs. There will be 4 winners. Two (2) winners will each receive one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card and Two (2) winners will each receive one (1) print copy of What She Never Said by Catharine Riggs. The giveaway begins on August 18, 2019 and runs through September 22, 2019. Open to U.S. addresses only. Void where prohibited.
Read An Excerpt
RUTH MOSBY ONE Monday, May 6 My goal each day is ten thousand steps. A Fitbit monitors my progress. One. Two. Three. Four. This morning I’ll reach six thousand steps. Only four thousand left after that. It’s nice the days have grown longer. I’ll walk the harbor loop after work. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. I speed up the slope of Orpet Park through the grove of moth-eaten oaks. At the summit of the steepest hill, I catch a peek of ocean gray. The islands are invisible today, shrouded in waves of lowering fog. June gloom. That’s what the locals call it, although we’ve barely stepped into May. Locals? I am a local. Or should be after thirty-some years. But oh no. Not in Santa Barbara. You can’t be a local unless you’re born here. Ridiculous but true. Sometimes I wonder why I stay. But at my age, where would I go? Cresting the final hill, I catch my first glimpse of the mission bells. They’re a sad reminder of my walks with Carlyn and the chats we had every day. She thought the Queen of the Missions was a sign of God’s blessing on our tony beachside town. I wonder what she thinks of God now. I wonder what she thinks of me. I continue past the mission lawn, verging on parched and dry. The agaves look weathered and dusty; they’re wilted at the tips. A handful of elderly tourists snap photos of the iconic scene. Their foreign chatter disrupts the calm, so I cross the street to the rose garden and follow the rutted trail. A lone dog shoots into view, and I slow my rapid gait. The golden Lab jumps, twists, and barks, nabbing a Frisbee in his mouth. “Morning,” his master calls to me, a smile gracing his youthful face. “Morning.” I lock my gaze on my running shoes. How did he miss the DOGS ON LEASH signs staggered every twenty feet? Or maybe he didn’t but somehow believes he’s above the city’s rules. I make a mental note to call animal control and continue on my way. I pick up my pace for the final ten blocks, feeling better than I have in weeks. Turning down my narrow driveway, I cringe at the sight of my neighbor standing on his porch. “Morning, Ruth,” he calls. “Morning, Zach.” Zach limps down his steps and through his drought-stricken garden, a frown rumpling his grizzled face. He’s dressed in board shorts and a tattered T-shirt, mended flip-flops shielding his feet. “You hear those kids partying last night?” he asks. “No,” I lie. “Was it loud?” “Hell yeah. I can’t believe they allow short-term rentals in our neighborhood. We’ve got to put a stop to that.” “Well, kids will be kids.” I fail to mention I called the police at ten sharp. That’s when the noise ordinance kicks in. “I’m going to complain at today’s city council meeting. Want to come along?” The breeze shifts, and I catch a whiff of spoiled milk. Zach has taken to strategic bathing, which results in an occasional stench. “I would, but I have to work.” “Bummer. There’s a better chance if we complain together.” I nod, thinking he’d have a better chance if he made an effort to clean himself up. When we moved into the neighborhood decades ago, Zach had been a handsome man with an easy smile and a mop of thick black hair. A homicide detective whose pretty wife, Tina, taught art at the nearby elementary school. The perfect neighbors on a perfect street of tiny Craftsman homes. Then their son died in a tragic accident, and Tina passed soon after that. A broken man, Zach took early retirement and nearly drank himself to death. He’s in recovery now and has replaced the booze with an obsession for neighborhood affairs. “What about my petition?” he asks. “You plan on signing that?” I bite my lower lip. “I’m not sure.” “Construction begins next week.” “I wish I could, but . . .” Mumbling under his breath, he eyes me with a frown. He’s also taken to talking to himself. Is dementia creeping up? “But what?” he asks. “I don’t think it’s wise for someone in my position to take a political stance.” “Your position?” He rolls his eyes. “You work at an old folks’ home.” “I work in a life-care community.” “Same thing.” “No, it’s not.” His frown deepens into a crevasse. “So, you’re okay with those homes coming down?” He nods at the four vacant bungalows located directly across the street. They’re slated for demolition, to be replaced by a ten-thousand-square-foot mansion with an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Our future neighbors are a flashy young couple with toddler twins and an army of well-groomed staff. Seems our former middle-class neighborhood is attracting the fashionable Hollywood types. “I’m not okay with it,” I say, “but what can we do? The planning commission has made their decision. We’re not going to change their minds.” “But if we don’t take action, it won’t be long before people like us can’t live in this town.” “At least we’ll make a mint when we sell.” “You’re not thinking of moving, are you?” “Of course not.” Although I might if the price is right. Zach sniffs and takes a swipe at his nose. “I just wish we could stop these assholes. They even complained about my new picket fence.” I hold my voice steady. “They did?” Last month, Zach replaced his aging fence with a synthetic version that lists from side to side. “Hell yes. City says my fence is four inches too tall, and I’ve got one month to replace the thing. Where the hell am I going to get that kind of money? My pension only goes so far.” He searches my face with his electric-blue eyes. They’re the only part of him that haven’t aged. “That’s terrible,” I say, dropping my gaze and backpedaling down the driveway. “Got to get to work. Have a nice day.” I hurry through the gate, swimming through waves of guilt. What if Zach finds out I turned him in? He’ll be angrier than a cornered wasp. But by the time I step out of the shower, I’ve pushed away all my self-doubt. Is it my fault his fence is too tall? For God’s sake, rules are rules.
Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2019 Margaret Margaret
1 Comment on What She Never Said by Catharine Riggs
Leave a Reply
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Sorry this wasn’t a good read for you. I did enjoy it.