I began this book because I needed to feel a sense of excitement. That sense of dread knowing a killer is lurking, even if it’s between the pages of a book. I ditched ‘Quiet Heroines’ by Brenda McBryde, this book on British nurses during WW2 which was boring and I’m okay with boring sometimes, but it was also racist and orientalist in its writing and story telling, and picked up Big City Lies, believing that rarely do suspense thrillers ever disappoint. 

The book narrates around a female detective in New York city. It does rely heavily on stereotypes, whether it is about an immigrant or whether it is about people of New York. The accent, the food, the lingo et cetra (I write the full form sometimes because after reading a British author I sometimes feel pretentious. I’ve just concluded a book on by this British author and it deserves a review of it’s own). 

The story is fast, has multiple murders and the suspense rises and falls throughout. There are two endings to different murders and that is the most I will give away. 

It is a good read when you’re not looking to extend yourself intellectually and just want to read for the very sake of it.