Reading in the Mountains

Neighbors Gwen, Aimee, and Lisa don’t just share morning coffees and playdates—they also share their deepest secrets. In their quiet East Bethesda community, the three women seem to have everything under control—until Gwen’s husband is found murdered after one of their regular Friday night dinners. From that moment on, their perfectly curated lives unravel, exposing a tangled web of lies, betrayals, and revenge.

And here comes my dilemma: why do I keep reading domestic thrillers when they annoy me? 🙃 Seriously, this genre has taken over the past two years—broken marriages, infidelity, secrets swept under the rug. And me? I’m not here for the oh, the sorrow part. I’m here for the who’s sleeping with whom and how. I love uncovering the secret lives of characters, but dull affairs between bored spouses and their neighbors? Not my thing.

And guess what? I found out who’s sleeping with whom, and… wow. I did not see that coming. But aside from Anton’s murder and the fact that Aimee’s husband is hiding a lot while Lisa is keeping secrets from hers, nothing really happened in the first half of the book. I kept flipping the pages, waiting for something to hit me.

Well, it didn’t hit me exactly, but the book did take some unexpected turns. Still, the author chose to focus on the WRONG couple. Seriously, the main affair was so bland that I don’t think I’ve ever read a romance—of any kind—so utterly lacking in chemistry. Meanwhile, the other couples, the ones who actually had potential for chaos? They stayed in the background.

And the ending? Not surprising. I saw it coming. As for Aimee, I feel like she could have been a much stronger character, but in the end, her husband’s secrets weren’t shocking enough to justify all the drama. I wanted something intense, something jaw-dropping, but instead, it all felt… vanilla.

Decent, but way too tamed for my taste.