I have waited for this book with a breathlessness that may eventually warrant medical attention.
And HOLY CRAP! It was absolutely worth the wait!
Truth is I already had a hunch I would really enjoy this story. I have fallen in love with Tarryn’s writing ever since The Opportunist and I knew just by the cover and synopsis that Mud Vein will be as intense as her previous works. And sure it did! Simply…extraordinary! There’s really no other word for it!
Watch out for our back to back review on the 25th for our tour stop. In the mean time, please enjoy the mini book trailer we have prepared for this phenomenal masterpiece.
When reclusive novelist Senna Richards wakes up on her thirty-third birthday, everything has changed. Caged behind an electrical fence, locked in a house in the middle of the snow, Senna is left to decode the clues to find out why she was taken. If she wants her freedom, she has to take a close look at her past. But, her past has a heartbeat…and her kidnapper is nowhere to be found. With her survival hanging by a thread, Senna soon realizes this is a game. A dangerous one. Only the truth can set her free.
A week later we took our first trip into Seattle together. It was her idea. We rode in my car since she said she didn’t have one. She looked nervous sitting in the front seat with her hands folded in her lap. When I asked her if she wanted me to put the radio on she said no. We ate Russian pastries from paper bags and watched the ferries cross the sound, shivering and standing as close as we could get to each other. Our fingers were so greasy when we were done we had to rinse them off in a water fountain. She laughed when I splashed water in her face. I could have written another ten thousand words just from hearing her laugh. We bought five pounds of prawns from the market and headed back to my house. I don’t know why the hell I asked for five pounds, but it sounded like a good idea at the time.
“You have one of these,” I said, as we were cleaning the prawns together at my kitchen sink. I ran my finger laterally along its body, pointing out the dark line that needed to be cleaned out. She frowned, looking down at the prawn she was holding.
“It’s called a mud vein.”
“A mud vein,” she repeated. “Doesn’t sound like a compliment.”
“Maybe not to some people.”
She de-headed her shrimp with a flick of her knife and tossed it in the bowl.
“It’s your darkness that pulls me in. Your mud vein. But sometimes having a mud vein will kill you.”
She set down the knife and washed her hands, drying them on the back of her jeans.
“I have to go.”
“Sure,” I said. I didn’t move until I heard the screen door slam. I wasn’t upset that my words had run her off. She didn’t like to be found out. But she’d be back.
I am a real life villain, truly. I drink sick amounts of Starbucks. Most of the time my hair smells like coffee. I was born in South Africa, and lived there for most of my childhood. I moved to Seattle just for the rain. Rome is my favorite place in the world so far, Paris comes in at a close second. I read and write more than I sleep. When I was eleven, I wrote an entire novel about runaway orphans, using only purple ink. I am addicted to Florence and the Machine and will travel to see concerts. I love scary movies and giraffes. I spend way too much time on Facebook. Meet you there?…