I had a love/hate relationship with Chelsea Cain’s last book, Heartsick (review). I loved the book and I hated what this said about myself. With a self-destructive detective, gruesome torture scenes, and a psychologically stunning love affair, Cain had me flipping pages and growing disgusted with my fascination. It was a book I could not recommend highly enough while I warned a lot of people away from it. After finishing Heartsick, I immediately went out and purchased a copy of its sequel, Sweetheart. I brought it home and buried it…
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Book Review: Heartsick
If there was an award for scariest dedication, Chelsea Cain wouldn’t have any competition. Her national bestseller, Heartsick, starts off with: “For Marc Mohan, who loved me even after he read this book”. I had to pause before I started the first chapter. What in the hell was I getting myself into? A pickle, that’s what. I have a bit of a problem here. I am giving this book highest marks and I am about to lavish some serious praise on it, but I am by no means recommending this…