It has been too many years since I was last on a beach, and I have been trying to convince my husband to remedy that situation for at least two years. After reading Reckless Girls by Rachel Hawkins, however, I might have to rethink that desire. With its dark tone that belies the tropical setting, in Ms. Hawkins’ hands, the beach no longer feels like the safe and relaxing place it usually is.
When trying to describe Reckless Girls, all I can think of are adjectives. Dark. Intense. Seedy. Hedonistic. Unpredictable. Luscious. It is all of these things and more. For the entire novel, you are as clueless as Lux, valiantly trying to understand why all of the other characters seem to know more than you do. It is frustrating and suspenseful.
Then you finally collect all the puzzle pieces, and your jaw drops at the discovery of all the layers of which you were unaware. The calculation, the coldness, the utter confidence in the rightness of their actions makes what follows a true thriller, whether you agree with their actions or not. While not as strong, in my opinion, as The Wife Upstairs, I still enjoyed Reckless Girls to the bitter end. And bitter it is indeed.