I’m not a huge fan of crime thriller books, although, oddly enough I do enjoy a moody crime thriller series on the tv (Just binge watched all four series of Cardinal and loved it). Jan McDermid is a good writer though, and one of the few crime thriller writers I enjoy. This book had lots to recommend it – interesting and well developed characters, a plot which kept me guessing almost right up the the reveal, and it was never boring or annoying. Yet, I finished reading this feeling sullied (or maybe just a bit depressed) because the story takes you into the mind of a serial killer and includes some nasty gory details and it’s just a bit too bleak and dark maybe for my tastes. I finished it quite late at night, but had to read some of Billy Connolly’s funny monologues before going to sleep just to get my head into a better place. I’ve already bought more in the series (they were on offer on Amazon one day) so I will read more, but I need to space out the series with lighter things in between.