Violet Ambrose can sense where the bodies are buried. Literally, she has a psychic power that calls her to the bodies of murdered people/animals, and that also lets her see the imprints that those deaths have on the people who caused them. So, I mean, obviously, enter serial killer. Serial killer who goes after teenager girls, like, you know, Violet, for example. And, right, we're going to need a super-hunky guy to protect her, so let's go with suddenly-hot-childhood-friend-Jay!
I, um. I can't not make fun of this book. It's apparently really great, because every review I've read of it says so? But, ooh, boy, was I ever annoyed. Sighing with longing every time I had to put it down, but annoyed none the less. Jay carries Violet around because she trips and is weak and lame, and he refuses to let her out of his sight because he is large and protective and she is small and weak, and he growls in a possessive fashion. Folks, this is not the strong feminist protagonist you're looking for. Actually, I think this is Bella Swan. And, yeah, that's what I was thinking the entire time I was reading this: Hmm, looks like someone drank the Twilight Kool-Aid." Someone being "the author" as a matter of fact.
And yet. And yet, I--look, I liked Twilight. Not well written, characters = caricatures, but I totally swoon for that anti-feminist Big Strong Man crap. Can't help it. Love it. Actively seek it out once every two years when I go on a romance novel binge. This book is very much that sort of book--the sort you inhale and then never tell anyone you loved it. Except for the teenage girls who come to your library and want something like Twilight. Man, this is the perfect book for those girls.