You can find Mr. Patterson’s books at any online or brick and mortar retailer, as well as drug stores, groceries and places like Target.
As San Francisco's most glamorous millionaires mingle at the party of the year, someone is watching--waiting for a chance to take vengeance on Isa and Ethan Bailey, the city's most celebrated couple. Finally, the killer pinpoints the ideal moment, and it's the perfect murder. Not a trace of evidence is left behind in their glamorous home.
As Detective Lindsay Boxer investigates the high-profile murder, someone else is found brutally executed--a preacher with a message of hope for the homeless. His death nearly falls through the cracks, but when reporter Cindy Thomas hears about it, she knows the story could be huge. Probing deeper into the victim's history, she discovers he may not have been quite as saintly as everyone thought.
As the hunt for two criminals tests the limits of the Women's Murder Club, Lindsay sees sparks fly between Cindy and her partner, Detective Rich Conklin. The Women's Murder Club now faces its toughest challenge: will love destroy all that four friends have built? The exhilarating new chapter in the Women's Murder Club series, The 8th Confession serves up a double dose of speed-charged twists and shocking revelations as only James Patterson can.
So, I’ve had this love/hate relationship with James Patterson since I read my first Alex Cross novel quite a few years ago. See, he writes these amazing stories but he breaks them up into itty bitty chapters. Why is this a bad thing? Well, mainly it’s a bad thing because you find yourself sitting there, at nearly nine o’clock at night thinking, “Hmmm, it’s only three pages… I can do one more chapter.” Before you know it, it’s creeping up on eleven o’clock and five thirty AM is staring you in the face. I literally devour each and every one of his books that I’m presented with. And this was no exception.
As per usual, you have your main mystery coupled with at least one side story, to keep you guessing as well as entertained. However, he really outdid himself this time as there were two side stories as well as the personal interactions of the Women’s Murder Club, plus Lindsay’s partner, Rich, to think about. But in true James Patterson style, he wove all three stories, as well as the continuing story of the Women’s Murder Club, into one seamless tale by the end.
I love the way he works in not just the way Lindsay interacts with her friends – Cindy, Claire, and Yuki – but also their personal lives, like including Claire’s family and Lindsay’s relationship with Joe. It rounds out the characters and brings their choices and decisions into a more realistic light. Not only that, but I find it fun to know everything I can about a character. For me, that’s what brings them fully to life.
There are only two complaints in regards to this book. 1) There wasn’t nearly enough Lindsay/Claire interaction for my tastes. I love the way that Claire mothers her and Lindsay lets her. 2) Cindy. She’s always been a bit on the annoying side for my tastes, but knowing that she’s a reporter, I’ve always tried to put it to the side, blaming it on her doing what needed to be done to get her story. However, as far as I’m concerned, there were points in this book where she was a raving biotch, to put it lightly. And while you can chalk it up to being passionate about her cause, there wasn’t ever really any reason for it, other than Cindy being Cindy.
That said, everything else about The 8th Confession was awesome. There were surprises along the way and a lot of good times. You laugh, you cry, you shout out in disbelief or frustration. If there was ever a master of the rollercoaster emotion, it is James Patterson.
And thus, one more reason I have such a love/hate relationship with the man. Should I ever meet him, I’m afraid I’d hug him, stomp on his toes, and then hug him again.
I’d like to think that he’d understand why, too.
DISCLAIMER: I borrowed this book from the library, free of charge, via my Kindle. I did it solely out of my misguided love for Lindsay Boxer and her dog, Martha.
DUMB BLOGGER’S SIDENOTE: I just noticed that instead of ‘serial killer’ my tag reads ‘serial killeer’. I guess that’s a killer with an accent. LOL!