Cape Bonita Prep is an exclusive school in a wealthy North California small town where the Larks reign supreme. The Larks is an organisation led by the students for volunteering and charity work. The Larks consists of ten girls -- five seniors, five juniors -- who are the brightest, the prettiest, the most popular; the elite of tomorrow. The Larks are also mean girls, and someone wants those mean girls dead. Penelope Malone, the Larks' president, is as shocked as everybody else when the principal gathers the student population in the gym to announce that one of their female jewels has been murdered. Some mean girls however, are meaner than others, and not everyone is equally traumatized, as there will be more PRETTY DEAD GIRLS...
Who knew that Monica Murphy could write a murder mystery of such quality! When my prime suspect was murdered, I was at a loss, and this is telling as I'm difficult to lead astray and hard to please when it comes to murder mysteries; until the very end, I really didn't know who was trustworthy. PRETTY DEAD GIRLS very fast-paced, and it is masterfully plotted, which rather surprised me since the book is billed as a YA novel and I did not expect such a tightly woven story. PRETTY DEAD GIRLS is actually a first-class romantic suspense whose protagonists are adolescents; that's the extent of the "Young Adult" angle, as I see it. Ms. Murphy captures the high school atmosphere, the cliques, and teenage behavior so accurately, that it felt eerily familiar to me, apart from the wealth and the murders. I appreciate that the author didn't have Penelope change dramatically along the way; Penelope might not be the meanest girl, but she's definitely not someone you want against you!
The romance between Penelope and her hunky physics classmate Cass Vincenti also felt genuine; given the context, his past, and that "Pen" is not Miss Congeniality, their relationship is filled with doubts, it is tempestuous, but also tender; it was just right. I'm not focusing so much on the romance, even though it is an essential part of the plot, because the suspense angle is just that terrific. I was a tad miffed though that one of the two heroic characters at the end was metaphorically shoved out of the way, but it is an infinitesimal detail with regards to the whole story.
I suppose I qualify as a mean girl myself because, in a way, I thought there was some poetic justice in there. I hope Monica Murphy continues in this vein, because there is a dearth of exceptional murder mysteries/romantic suspense authors, and I feel Ms. Murphy has the chops to reach the very top. PRETTY DEAD GIRLS is a fantastic book, and I wish the first of many in this genre from the author. Again, Brava, Monica Murphy!
Beautiful. Perfect. Dead.
In the peaceful seaside town of Cape Bonita, wicked secrets
and lies are hidden just beneath the surface. But all it
takes is one tragedy for them to be exposed.
The most popular girls in school are turning up dead, and
Penelope Malone is terrified she's next. All the victims so
far have been linked to Penelopeโand to a boy from her
physics class. The one she's never really noticed before,
with the rumored dark past and a brooding stare that cuts
right through her.
There's something he isn't telling her. But there's
something she's not telling him, either.
Everyone has secrets, and theirs might get them killed.
EXCERPT
โThat car is still trailing us.โ
Glancing in the side mirror, I see that the car is behind us.
Cass chooses that moment to take a curve extra fast, making the
tires squeal, and I gasp. โYouโre scaring me,โ I murmur. It feels
like my heart just flew into my throat.
โJust wait. What I really want to do is going to scare you even
more,โ he says cryptically.
โWhat do you want to do?โ
โYouโll have to trust me on this.โ
โOkay.โ I clamp my lips shut. I shouldnโt automatically agree,
right? Iโm still having trust issues, even though Iโd never say
that out loud. This entire day has been confusing. I donโt know
who to believe anymore.
โNo demanding we back out once we commit,โ he says, his gaze
never wavering from the road. โThatโs a surefire way to get
ourselves hurt.โ
His words are ominous. Like a warning. โFine. Iโm all in.โ
He eases up on the gas pedal, just the slightest bit. The car
slows, the vehicle behind us drawing closer. So close I swear it
looks like itโs going to eat the back bumper. โI donโt want you
to freak out.โ
โOh my God, Cass.โ Why is he slowing down? โJust tell me.โ
โYou have to promise me one thing first.โ His gaze meets mine,
lingering a moment too long. He should be watching the road, not
staring at me. โSay youโll promise.โ
โI promise,โ I readily agree, frowning. โBut what am I
promising?โ
Heโs staring straight ahead once more, his fingers sliding over
the steering wheel, almost like a caress. โYou canโt scream.โ
What?
โI mean it. No screaming. No yelling. You must remain quiet. I
need you to trust me, Pen.โ He hesitates, his voice dropping
lower. โDo you trust me?โ
Do I? Heโs already asked me once and I said yes, but the doubt
still creeps in. He scares me a little. He alsoโGod, I am so
ridiculous thinking this, butโhe turns me on. He does. Thereโs
something about him. He has this edge that other boys donโt have.
And when he touches me, kisses meโฆ
Iโd probably do just about anything he asks me to.
So how can I doubt him when weโve already gone this far together?
โI wonโt scream,โ I tell him quietly. โAnd I wonโt yell. I
promise.โ
โOkay.โ He nods once, then hisses out a breath between his teeth.
I chance a glance at him, the way his dark hair falls over his
forehead, how heโs squinting his eyes. What heโs about to do,
whatโs about to happen, feelsโฆdangerous. โHere it goes.โ
With a flick of his wrist he turns the carโs headlights off.
Like, completely off. The road goes dark. I suck in a breath,
hold it until I feel like itโs choking me. He hits the gas pedal
hard, the SUV roaring to life as he flies down the road. A
dangerous, winding road where multiple car crashes occur every
year. The windows are down, the wind blows through my hair,
blasts against my face, and I close my eyes.
Iโm scared, and I canโt make a sound. Not a peep. I hold onto the
handle right above the window, gripping it with both hands as
Cass takes the twisty road with ease. My gaze is trained on the
side mirror and I watch for the car lights behind us.
Theyโre still there.