Like everyone reading the newspapers these days, 10-year-old Barney Roberts knows the killer will strike again soon. The victim will be another boy, just like him. The body will be drained of blood, and left somewhere on a Thames beach. There will be no clues for London detectives Dana Tulloch and Mark Joesbury to find. There will be no warning about who will be next. There will be no real reason for Barney’s friend and neighbor, Lacey Flint, on leave from her job as a London police detective, to become involved…and no chance that she can stay away. With the clock ticking, the violence escalating, and young lives at stake, Lacey and Barney both know they can’t afford a single wrong step if they hope to make it through alive.
Lost by S.J. Bolton is a very clever thriller that grabs your attention from the first sentence “They say it’s like slicing through warm butter, when you cut into young flesh”. Set in London, this story is about a group of people trying to get to the bottom of who is taking and killing young boys in their city. It’s the perfect thriller in that both subtle and obvious clues are sprinkled throughout the pages. But as you quickly find out, the clues are also possible clever misdirection because before long you are second guessing yourself until you have to admit to yourself that you have no idea who is the killer.
Aside from the building suspense, S.J. Bolton also created characters with very interesting side stories leaving you torn between wanting more of their personal information and getting to bottom of who among them is the killer. Throughout the book are snippets of conversation between the possible killer and their therapist. I had to reread these sections after I found out who was the killer and was amazed at how the author was able to put in just enough information in that it could have been any of the possible suspects speaking to the therapist.
All in all, this was a great book which gripped me from start to finish and which I look forward to recommending to my friends and family.
*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Roberta
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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
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