The Lies I Tell is a propulsive suspense novel told from two alternating perspectives…
Meg is a charismatic and clever con-artist who has left a trail of ruined lives in her wake. All the while expertly lining her bank account, of course. But that was all a warm-up for her latest target, the biggest fish of all. A feat which has required years of methodical planning and no room to slip up. And this time, it’s personal.
Kat is a down-on-her-luck journalist looking for her big break and a chance at career redemption. She has Meg set in her sights and she’s hot on her trail, keen to expose her tangled web of lies.
What do these two have in common? Both women are willing to ingratiate themselves into the lives of strangers to snare their prey and they’re united by a common motive: revenge.
The Lies I Tell is nearly impossible to put down. The time seemed to fly by effortlessly. I read half the book in one sitting! While Meg’s femme fatale point of view is naturally flashier and more enticing, I also enjoyed reading about events from Kat’s perspective because she is earnest and refreshingly relatable. I don’t say this often, but I honestly wish the book was a little longer, filled with more cat and mouse games, additional layers of intrigue and perhaps even some exotic locations.
Unfortunately, there was one crucial element that hampered my ability to enjoy The Lies I Tell. I found it disheartening and unrealistic that there is not a single example of a morally upright male character. The book seems to condemn an entire gender which is reductionist and irksome. Real life has more shades of grey to it than that. Despite that regrettable facet, I did sincerely enjoy The Lies I Tell and I have my eye on Julie Clark’s other, highly-celebrated novel, The Last Flight.
My Rating: 3.5/5 Stars
