Harlan Coben, The Woods

So, I had little to do after dinner on Friday night and the house was quiet. It seemed a great time to read. I grabbed the book most hidden on the bookshelf and jumped straight in. What a joyous surprised to be so rapidly gripped by a book! I couldn’t sleep, I was mesmerised, I had to read more, to know, to find out, to realise who, what, where … and I hung there on the edge of Coben’s woods until the wee hours of the morning, until the matchsticks crumbled and my eyes simply could not maintain any sort of alertness and I slept the sleep of the well read, and when I awoke, before a morning cuppa, I grabbed hold of The Woods and plunged back in until I reached the gritty end and then, finally, I could rest.

I can think of nothing else to say about this book. I loved it. It was exactly what I needed, when I needed it and for that, Mr Coben, I thank you.


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