Inkyard Press – Vickie's Book Nook and Meditation Corner

This is a well-written mystery for young adults, but I would add mature young adults since the content is not for everyone. There is quite a bit of “hooking up” and expletives were used freely. Jenna is going to a private girls’ school in a small town, living with her aunt who is a police detective, when one of her friends is killed. When another friend is a suspect, Jenna starts investigating on her own, determined to find out who killed Colleen. There are two sets of teens who are the focus of the story. The girls are Serena, Imogen, Brianna, Hollie and Jenna, all friends who attend a school called Preston Prep. Then there are the bad boys who go to Rookwood, the boys’ private school that seems to be for the incorrigible throw-aways of society, the ones that their parents can’t or won’t control or who just don’t want to deal with them anymore. That group comprises Adam, Max, and Tommy. Of course, the girls are attracted to the bad boys and visit a cabin near the campus where they party together. The scene was well set for conflict since the kids were meeting outside of the bounds of acceptable behavior and they were doing things that their parents and the schools would not approve of. Therein lies the appeal to the younger generation since a central theme is rebellion against authority. The plot was complicated, but not so much so that it was not easy to follow. There were lots of red herrings along the way, as the story is told from the viewpoint of several of the main characters, especially Jenna and Adam. At first, I was not sure that they were reliable narrators because of their differing opinions about what had happened, but I discovered as I read that they were both reliable and accurate. They just saw things differently because they had their own perspective. With deep understanding of the teen psyche and what teens really need from life, this was a well done character study as well as a blockbuster of a mystery. I was guessing whodunit almost until the very end, and even then I was surprised by some of the revelations. Fans of YA mystery will enjoy this book and should enjoy discussing it with a book group or their parents since it brings so much information out about growing up and choosing friends wisely.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

*I would rate this a M-YA book due to content, both language and sexual exploits of the youth as well as murders that make up the mystery.*

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Gabriella Lepore is a YA author from South Wales in the United Kingdom. She lives in the countryside with her husband James and daughter Sophia. When she isn’t reading or writing, she can usually be found exploring the coastline. She enjoys cups of tea, bookstore coffee shops, stormy beaches, and autumn days.

Social Links:
Twitter: @GabriellaBooks
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Gabriella-Lepore-Books-240139339377522/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gabriellalepore_books/?hl=en
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4814169.Gabriella_Lepore

This is a new young adult mystery that just released on September 21, 2021. Purchase Links:

Bookshop.org: https://bookshop.org/books/this-is-why-we-lie/9781335418609 Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/this-is-why-we-lie-gabriella-lepore/1138317761 Powells: https://www.powers.com/book/this-is-why-we-lie-9781335418609 Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/This-Why-Lie-Gabriella-Lepore/dp/1335418601

Target: https://www.target.com/p/this-is-why-we-lie-by-gabriella-lepore-hardcover/-/A-82007842 Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Gabriella_Lepore_This_Is_Why_We_Lie?id=eqsJEA AAQBAJ
Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/author/gabriella-lepore/id1153311848 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/this-is-why-we-lie

Excerpt:

JENNA
Gardiners Bay at dawn is my secret. There’s a moment, right before the day starts, when the ocean is bathed in amber light. That first golden breath of morning. Everything is still, apart from the pelicans gathering near the water, their plump bodies shuffling along the shoreline. Sometimes I sit on the promenade for hours with my legs suspended over the pebble beach below, just watching the night turn to day. Watching the darkness turn to light.
It’s often like this, just me and the birds. The only other people I tend to cross paths with at this hour are fishermen wearing heavy-duty gear and hugging their thermoses. They sit on the benches and swig their hot drinks while skimming the daily newspaper. Then they leave. A little while later, their boats drift out onto the water.
Today, though, I’m the only one here.
I raise my camera and adjust the focus, capturing the new light as it spills over the ocean. In the muted daylight, the silver tide is a murky, dull gray and frothing as it slaps against the shore.
“Help! I need help!”
My eyes dart across the shoreline. There’s a boy on the stretch of beach at the foot of Rookwood Cliff. He’s kneedeep in the water, fully dressed.
He shouts again.
I spring to my feet and run along the promenade. Ducking beneath the boardwalk railings, I jump down to the pebbled cove.
The soles of my feet sting at the impact of the stones beneath my Converse. I scramble toward him, my footing slipping on the damp pebbles.
It’s then that I recognize him.
Adam.
His jeans are soaked to the thigh. He’s wading through the shallows, his legs tangled in fishing net and seaweed. And a body lies limp in his arms. A girl. She’s swollen, her skin has turned purple, and one arm is swinging downward with the momentum of Adam’s labored movements.
I press my hand to my mouth.
“Call an ambulance,” he shouts.
But all I can do is stand there, paralyzed by the sight. He lowers the girl onto the sand and begins CPR, breathing into her mouth.
It’s too late, I want to tell him.
She’s already dead.

This is the well-known story of bad guy meets a good girl and they are attracted to each other. Guillermo has just gotten out of juvie and is on probation, complete with community service. He is doing this service at the place where Regan’s mom is a manager. Regan never makes bad choices and Guillermo’s life seems to be one bad choice after another. I enjoyed the characterization and thought that it was well done. The plot, however, just did not do it for me. I knew from the beginning what was going to happen, so I didn’t mind not having surprises as I read. What I did mind is that the story seemed to drag at times. Regan couldn’t make up her mind about breaking up with her current boyfriend in order to follow her attraction to Guillermo. And Guillermo was almost timid in approaching her since he was avoiding trouble at all costs. I thought the storyline worked, but the slow pace made it hard for me to really get into the story and enjoy it as I had expected I would. This is light romance, targeted to a young adult audience.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

*I would rate this a PG-13 due to content*. *Touted as a book for Young Adults, it may not be appropriate for all teen readers.*

About the author:Whitney is dedicated to telling stories about teens of color and teens in difficult but relatable situations. Some of her works can be found on Wattpad, one of the largest online story sharing platforms, where she has acquired over 30,000 followers and an audience of over fifteen million dedicated readers. Outside of writing, she is a lover of Korean dramas, all things John Hughes, and horror films. Whitney currently lives in Akron, Ohio. She is the author of A Love Hate Thing and The Right Side of Reckless. Visit Whitney’s website http://www.whitneydgrandison.com and follow her on Twitter @whitney_dg and Instagram @wheadee.

Social Links:
Author website: www.whitneydgrandison.com
Twitter: @whitney_dg
Instagram: @wheadee

EXCERPT: THE RIGHT SIDE OF RECKLESS

Guillermo

Fresh off the plane and I was already making trouble.

The security guard was staring at me like I was some type of criminal. He stood across from us as we came out of the gate into the terminal at the Akron-Canton Airport, and as soon as he caught eye contact with me, his brows pushed down and knitted together. His hand breezed over the Taser gun on his utility belt, while he stuck out his broad chest.

Sizing him up, I knew I could take him. He wasn’t that big. But with the way my mother was looking at me, I knew it was better to ignore him.

He probably thought I was trouble. I was trouble…at least, I was before.

“Keep walking, Memo,” my father said, shoving his carryon bag into my spine.

I stole a final glance at the security guard. He was still glaring at me.

Pendejo.

Like the diligent son I was now trying to be, I obeyed my father and kept moving, catching my younger sister, Yesenia, shrinking beside me.

Jostling through the airport, we made our way to the baggage claim, gathered our bags, and prepared to leave. Upon heading toward the exit, I was surprised to see Mr. Security Guard by the door. The glare was still on his face, but this time, he was shooting his dark steely gaze at some other guy.

Guess it isn’t just me. For once.

I was used to this type of judgment.

The car service my father had arranged was waiting outside. Our driver was standing in front of a Honda Pilot, holding up a sign with our last name stamped on it.

My father quickly introduced our family before helping the man stow our luggage in the vehicle. At my attempt to help, my father shooed me away.

Having no choice, I handed him my bag, and then I got in the middle row beside my mother and sister.

“It’s going to be okay, Memo, don’t worry.” Yesenia reached out and squeezed my hand gently.

I averted my gaze out the window, not seeing things her way.

“You should listen to your sister, she’s right,” my mother said.

Once the driver and my father finished packing the trunk, the driver took the wheel while my father sat in the passenger seat.

As soon as we were on the road, my father faced me with a serious look. “We’re back now, Guillermo, and things aren’t going to be like before. Understand?”

“It won’t happen again,” I said.

My father grimaced, as if he doubted me. With my mass of screwups, I didn’t blame him. “Don’t forget to call your probation officer first thing in the morning.” He spoke with bitter disappointment laced in every word. “Remember, if you mess this up, it’s back to jail for you.”

I gritted my teeth. Back to juvie? Fuck that. “I know.”

Two weeks in Mexico and nothing had changed.

They still hadn’t forgiven me for what happened back in March. Hadn’t even mentioned it to the relatives we’d just visited. I couldn’t blame them. Unlike the times before, I had fucked up royally.

I stared outside for the remainder of the drive. Summer had slipped away while I was locked up. Now fall was here, a new season, a new beginning. It was seven fifteen at night, the sky above us a reddish orange as the sun sank lower on the horizon. Soon, the leaves on the trees would match.

We got off the highway and began to pass closing businesses as streetlights flickered on. I watched all this, trying to feel a sense of rebirth. A piece of optimism.

It didn’t come.

While I was…away, my parents had packed up our house and sold it. They had purchased a new place on the east side of Akron and made it clear we were moving on from the past up north.

Less than thirty minutes later, the driver pulled in to a subdivision called Briar Pointe. A subdivision, as in row upon row of houses that looked exactly alike, as in too bland and boring, unlike the neighborhood we’d lived in before.

A late-night jogger breezed by, her blond ponytail swishing behind her, and I raised a brow. Where we’d come from wasn’t exactly dangerous, but nobody ran, especially at night.

The driver came to a stop in front of a medium-size two-story house complete with an attached two-car garage. I gazed at my new home. It was my clean slate, my second chance— or more like my last.

We all vacated the car and grabbed our bags from the trunk.

My mother gathered the house keys and took the lead to the front door with Yesenia and me behind her. My father tipped the driver, and the man drove off.

After I got home from juvie, and before our sudden trip to Mexico, my family and I had only begun unpacking here. Now it was almost the second week of September, and Yesenia and I had missed the first week of school.

After spending spring in and out of court and a lovely ninety-day stay at a detention center, where I’d caught up on all the schoolwork I’d missed, I would be serving my probation in a new part of the city with a fresh start. However, it was beginning to appear as though there was no moving forward as far as my parents were concerned.

They no longer looked at me as their son, but as a petty criminal and a burden.

And given that in the morning I would meet with my parole officer, I couldn’t blame them. I was newly seventeen and already the Patron Saint of Fuckups who couldn’t be trusted, as far as they knew.

“Guillermo.” My father spoke softly behind me as we entered the house and Yesenia and my mother disappeared down the foyer around a corner.

I didn’t face him. There were only so many times I could see that look in his eyes. “Yes?”

“In the garage, now.”

I turned and found him already making his way to the door that led into the garage. Each step I took after him felt heavier than the first, my anxiety causing sweat to bead down my back.

Inside the garage, my father stood back, waiting for me.

I barely glanced at him before my gaze landed on the two vehicles. One, my mother’s silver Acura, and the other, a dark blue Charger. The shiny, vibrant paint made its beauty stand out.

My father cleared his throat. “Matt knew a guy who could restore it, and it took some bargainin’, but it’s yours.”

Another glance from him to the car, and I realized what this was and what this meant. Back in the day, when my father’s brother, my tío Mateo, still lived in Akron, he used to keep this beat-up old Charger in his driveway. Tía Jacki used to complain about it, but Mateo wouldn’t part with it, swore it was a project in the making. Whenever I was bored, I’d climb in behind the wheel and pretend to drive it, pretend I owned the road, pretend to be as cool as Tío Matt.

Fast forward to today, and gone were those rust-stained doors, replaced with a solid body and fresh paint. Even the inside was new. I leaned over to gape through the passenger window. The black seating and updated system had me grinning like a fool.

Tío Mateo lived in Columbus now, but the gesture wasn’t missed. I faced my father, my smile instantly slipping away at the sight of his stoic face. “Thank you, both of you.”

My father gave me a stiff nod. “I just don’t want to be responsible for driving you around. Keys are on the hook by the door.”

During the whole ordeal, my mother had attempted sympathy, but not once had my father offered any. The moment I was released from juvie, they shielded Yesenia from me and started keepin’ a close eye on us, as if my bad seed would catch on.

“I shouldn’t have to reiterate that this is a new start. You will not be in contact with any of your old friends. Especially that girl,” my father ordered. “You will go to school, complete your required community service, meet with your probation officer, and stay out of trouble. Do you hear me?”

My fists balled at my sides. “Yes, sir.”

“And…” He paused, as if thinking of more things to add to his list of demands. “Get a haircut.”

To this I didn’t reply. He’d been after the length of my hair since freshman year. Now that I was a junior, you’d think he’d let it go. I would admit, my wavy hair combined with my facial hair did make me look rough around the edges. The judge had taken one look at me and scowled. No wonder that security guard at the airport had kept his eye on me.

“Your mother’s going to order some food. Go put away your bag and come down,” my father said.

Dinner with my family was often eaten in loud silence.

I would pass.

“I’m not hungry,” I told him.

He didn’t fight me on it as he went to join my mother and sister.

Home sweet home.

With a heavy sigh, I raked a hand through my chin-length hair and headed up to my room. I was out, I was somewhere new, and I had a car. I couldn’t fuck up, not again. Hearing my mom up one night crying—that had hung heavy on my heart for weeks.

This move was my chance to prove that I could evolve.

There were no ifs, ands, or maybes. I was going to do better.