Another day, another blog tour! Today, I’m taking part in the tour for Grist Mill Road by Christopher J. Yates. Below, you can find my review and an extract from the book. Enjoy!
Patrick watched as Matthew tied Hannah to a tree and shot out her eye with a BB gun. He watched, and did nothing. Years later, Patrick and Hannah are married, each keeping big secrets from the other about what really happened all those years ago, until Matthew reenters their lives with devastating consequences.
Like many crime thrillers, this story is told from two timelines: one in 1982 describing past events from Patrick’s perspective, and one in 2008 following Patrick and Hannah’s life together. The real problem with this book was the 2008 thread. The majority of it was filled with long and boring descriptions of food blogging and the history of a cement company. Yes, it is as boring as it sounds.
However, the 1982 thread was much more interesting, and things did eventually come together and picked up a lot. There isn’t very much that can be said about Grist Mill Road without taking away from the reading experience, so I will stop there.
In short, I did enjoy reading this book, but with more action and more emotion behind the story-telling, it could have been better.
I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
I remember the gunshots made a wet sort of sound, phssh phssh phssh, and each time he hit her she screamed. Do the math and the whole thing probably went on for as long as ten minutes. I just stood there and watched.
I don’t know when I realized I was counting. Eight, nine, ten. For a long time it seemed as if all sensation, everything but my eyesight, had been switched off. But once I realized I was keeping track of the shots—eighteen, nineteen, twenty— it felt like something I could cling to because my sense of balance had been switched off along with everything else.
I was standing on the nauseating brink of something I didn’t want to fall into, a world beyond comprehension. Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight. This wasn’t real life, this was a show. And this show wasn’t for me, I wasn’t even allowed to stay up late enough to watch this sort of show. No, none of it made any sense, a silent movie with Russian subtitles.
And yet I watched.
What does it mean to watch? When a crime takes place in front you, what is watching? Is it a failure to act or is it simply keeping your eyes open?
Please do check out the rest of the tour!