Where the Blame Lies by Mia Sheridan
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Where the Blame Lies

by

Mia Sheridan

(Author)

4.5

-

7,318 ratings


Abducted.Terrorized.Imprisoned.At nineteen-years-old, college student Josie Stratton was kidnapped by a madman and held shackled for ten months in an abandoned warehouse before she finally escaped her hellish prison.Eight years later, when the body of a young woman is found chained in the basement of a vacant house, Cincinnati Police Detective Zach Copeland is instantly reminded of the crime committed against Josie Stratton. Zach was just a rookie on the perimeter of that case, but he’s never forgotten the traumatized woman with the haunted eyes.As more information emerges, the crimes take on an even more sinister similarity. But Josie’s attacker died by suicide. Does the city have a copycat on its hands? A killer who picked up where the original perpetrator left off? Or are they facing something far more insidious?Josie has spent the last eight years attempting to get her life back on track, but now there’s a very real chance she could be the unknown suspect’s next target. As Zach vows to keep her safe, and Josie finds herself responding to him in a way she hasn’t responded to any man in almost a decade, the investigation takes on an even more complex edge of danger.As past and present collide, Josie and Zach are thrust toward a shocking and chilling truth. A revelation that threatens not only Josie’s life, but everything she’s been fighting so desperately to reclaim.

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ISBN-10

1689781491

ISBN-13

978-1689781497

Print length

426 pages

Language

English

Publisher

Independently published

Publication date

September 12, 2019

Dimensions

5.25 x 0.96 x 8 inches

Item weight

1.06 pounds


Popular Highlights in this book

  • All of us are to blame. For fighting to move on rather than lashing out, for choosing to stand up over and over again after we collapse, for working to heal the broken parts of ourselves so the shards don’t wound the world.

    Highlighted by 327 Kindle readers

  • Starlight in a blackened sky. Blinking to life where before only darkness existed.

    Highlighted by 215 Kindle readers

  • Sometimes the victim, sometimes the perpetrator? None of us are one or the other. We’re all both to different degrees.

    Highlighted by 125 Kindle readers


Product details

ASIN :

B07XWR6VWC

File size :

1012 KB

Text-to-speech :

Enabled

Screen reader :

Supported

Enhanced typesetting :

Enabled

X-Ray :

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Word wise :

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Editorial Reviews

"Gripping. Intense. Built on layers of suspense and dark themes, yet laced with touches of lightness and one of the greatest human emotions - hope. Mia Sheridan has woven a story of anger, fear, bravery, acceptance, and love. What can I say about this book? Unexpected. Brilliant." - Melanie Moreland, NYT Bestselling author

"Wow! I'm speechless! I loved Where the Blame Lies! Suspenseful, addicting. I couldn't stop reading and when I was forced to close the book, it filled my thoughts. 5 glowing stars." - Aleatha Romig, NYT Bestselling author

"An epic mystery/thriller but so much more! Equal parts heartbreaking and hopeful, and so very profound." - Author Catherine Cowles

"Where the Blame Lies had me on the edge of my seat from the first pages of the prologue to the epilogue. I can't recommend it enough!" - Katie Ashley, NYT Bestselling author

"Full of twists and turns, Where the Blame Lies will leave you questioning everything. And everyone. I loved it!" - Monica James, International bestselling author

"Holy hell! Where the Blame Lies is the best book I've read this year! The writing is stunning. When I had to put it down to do other things, my mind stayed focused on it!" - Author Emma Renshaw "It's been a minute since I've really enjoyed a romantic suspense novel. It was amazing. Heartbreaking. Healing. Inspiring. I am blown away, emotionally spent, a little hung-over, and shouting from the rooftops that you need to read this book!" - Shelly, Bookgasms's Review

"Keep the lights on! The shocking story had me tied in knots the entire time. Lots of cringing, hoping, and cheering on my part lead to an ending that left me speechless, pondering, and questioning my own emotions for a few days." - Passion 4 Books's Review

"The author is truly brilliant. I knew it would be good and she doesn't disappoint. That is what a master storyteller will do to you - hooked, reeled in and sucked you dry of all emotions. Fantastic read!!!" - AC Book Blog

"A fascinating, intriguing and thrilling story. And totally addictive! I've read it in only one day. I needed to know the answers to every question I had. The suspense is untenable. It's like a game of chess. Brilliant!" - Patricia Wonderland, Goodreads review

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Sample

PROLOGUE

Before

The lights flashed, music pulsing as a crush of bodies twisted and gyrated on the dance floor in front of her. Josie felt both taken over by the sensory input and still oddly removed. Some innate other-ness in the mix of these carefree partiers, beautiful and exultant under the shifting strobes. Snap out of it, Josie, she demanded of herself, giving her shoulders a small shake. Have some damn fun.

What was wrong with her anyway?

“Cheers,” Reagan said as she came up on Josie’s right, thrusting a glass forward and breaking her from her moody thoughts, at least momentarily. “To living our best life.” Josie took a breath, rallied, forcing a grin as she took the gin and tonic and clinked Reagan’s glass. She sucked in a drink. “This place is packed tonight. Oh! There he is.” Reagan raised her hand and began waving wildly in the direction of the door where a tall, good-looking blond guy spotted her and waved back, making his way through the crowd to where they stood. He leaned forward and kissed Reagan’s lips. Josie looked away, giving them a moment of privacy as they greeted each other, her knee bouncing to the beat.

Reagan pulled on Josie’s sleeve. “Evan, this is my best friend, Josie. Josie, this is Evan.” Reagan practically purred as she said his name, and Josie barely refrained an eye-roll. Reagan had been crushing on the guy from her geology class for months, and he had finally asked her out two weeks before. They were already an item, though she couldn’t help wonder how long he’d last. Her best friend’s relationships with men were initially intense, but ultimately temporary.

Evan smiled. His teeth were very white and very straight, gaze sharp as he took her hand. His stare unnerved her slightly, and she wasn’t sure how to account for the strange feeling. He said something softly.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, leaning forward.

He leaned toward her too, and his mouth came close to her ear. “I said, we’ve met before.”

She leaned back. “Oh, I’m sorry . . .”

He shook his head. “House party on Stratford a couple months ago.”

“Oh.” She feigned sudden recognition, though she had absolutely no memory of meeting him. “Right. Nice to see you.”

He gave her a wry smile as though he knew she was lying and leaned away.

Reagan pulled him by the hand, jostling a girl next to her, who gave an annoyed look. “Let’s dance,” she singsonged loudly. “Come on, Jos.”

Josie held up her already-empty glass. No way was she going to be the third wheel in some weird three-person dance circle. “I’m gonna get another drink first. Want one?” she called as she moved away from the throng of swaying bodies. Reagan shook her head and disappeared into the revolving fray.

Ten minutes later, fresh cocktail in hand, Josie returned to the edge of the dance floor. She spotted Reagan and Evan dancing near the middle, Reagan holding her glass slightly out in front of her. Josie sipped at her drink. She hadn’t eaten much for dinner and the alcohol was acting fast, sending a pleasant buzz through her body. Her muscles relaxed. A guy in a red shirt grabbed her hand and she lurched forward, almost spilling her drink. The guy laughed, the sound swept under the loud pulse of the bass. He struck a pose meant to be funny, and Josie laughed, beginning to move with the stranger as they were pulled into the gyrating crowd. She downed the rest of her gin and tonic, closing her eyes as they danced, spinning, whirling, finally feeling a part of the people there rather than removed. Separate. She was one of them. A carefree college girl. She just needed to act like it. She needed to let go.

Bodies pressed close, and Josie could feel sweat dripping down the back of her neck. The guy in the red shirt moved directly against her and for a minute she let him. The music boomed, lyrics about a record spinning around. Josie felt like she was spinning too. The guy’s hand moved over her ass, back up her hip. Why not? He was cute and Josie smiled flirtatiously. He smelled like clean sweat and cologne and when he leaned toward her, she smelled beer on his breath. Josie closed her eyes, the vision of two little smiling faces filling her brain. Her eyes shot open, and she spun away from the guy she was dancing with, putting distance between them. He laughed, but annoyance flashed in his eyes. God, it’s hot. And that feeling of being removed settled over her once again. The need to get away. “I’m going to get a drink,” she yelled over the music, turning away from him.

In her peripheral vision, she saw the guy begin to follow her and slipped between a group of girls, losing him, and walking quickly to where she was out of sight. She spotted a familiar face standing at the end of the bar and while she wove through the crowd, a smile took over her face as he saw her and grinned. “Hey you,” Cooper greeted, giving her a big hug. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”

“I’m here with Reagan. Who I think has ditched me for Evan.” She dragged out his name, giving Cooper a meaningful look. “Last time I saw them, they were on the dance floor making out.”

Cooper shot her a wry smile. “Geology Evan? The stone-cold hunk?”

Josie laughed. They’d been annoying Reagan with really bad geology puns for weeks.

“The one and only. She really digs him.” They both pretended to crack up, giving big, fake laughs, which dissolved into real ones. Josie grinned. “Reagan always gets her man.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cooper said, rolling his eyes. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure.” She was tipsy and heading toward drunk. Just where she wanted to be. She gripped the collar of her shirt and used it to fan the overheated skin beneath her clothing.

Cooper and Josie stood at the bar chatting and laughing for a little while, which helped Josie’s mood improve. Cooper attended UC too, and he worked at a local coffee shop where she and Reagan had met him over lattes and late-night studying. He was funny and sweet, always had a smile to share, and they’d gone out drinking and dancing with him a few times. He was also ridiculously good-looking, but unfortunately for her—and every other female in Cincinnati—he was not interested in the female persuasion.

She laughed as Cooper told a story about a customer he’d had earlier, her eyes meeting those of an older man sitting at a high-top table nearby, sipping a beer. He was handsome, wearing khakis and a button-down polo shirt. A young professor or a teacher’s aide. He smiled, his eyes moving down her body, and her nerves tingled. She was tempted. So tempted. He’d make her forget the melancholy that didn’t seem to want to release its hold on her tonight. He’d make her feel wanted, happy. But it’d be temporary. And temporary always ended up hurting. The thought confused her slightly. She’d never pondered that before, and definitely didn’t want to in the midst of a packed meat market. She’d come here for temporary. Hadn’t she?

She broke eye contact and took a long sip of her drink, attempting to recapture that carefree mood she’d found at the bottom of three gin and tonics and via Cooper’s charm. Cooper looked back over his shoulder where her gaze had lingered. When his eyes returned to her, his brow was raised. “Nice. Very nice.” He glanced back one more time and then leaned closer. “He’s still looking at you. Go ask him to dance.”

She shook her head, gathering her resolve. No, a one-night stand would only make her feel worse in the morning. Especially now. Don’t do it, Josie. “Nope. I’m on a hiatus from men at the moment. Especially older men.” With wives. And children. Her mood plummeted further, self-loathing rising, and suddenly her buzz soured. She felt annoyed. Sad. Lonely. The music blasted, the air felt hotter. Muggy. Everyone was too close. Jostling her, pressing, touching. She used the collar of her shirt to bring more air to her skin.

Cooper was watching her. “I think another round is called for.”

She shook her head but forced a smile. “No. And speaking of nice, there’s someone cute who’s got his eye on you.”

Cooper glanced over his shoulder at the dark-haired guy who was watching him from the other side of the bar, his head nodding slightly to the beat of the music. When Cooper caught his eye, the guy looked away bashfully and then immediately back in that age-old flirting move. “Ron. He works at the sandwich shop next to Brews. Do you mind if I go say hi and then I’ll be right back?”

“Not at all. You go. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

She pushed him. “Yes. I’m fine.”

With a smile, Cooper headed off in Ron’s direction, Ron’s face lighting up with obvious delight at Cooper’s approach. Her heart squeezed. She had a sudden desire to run for the door, to throw it open and inhale the fresh, open air. Let it cleanse her if that were possible. The crowd bore down again. Oppressive. Stifling.

She placed her empty glass on the bar and moved toward the dance floor, looking for Reagan. “You’re a bitch,” someone said from her left. She whipped her head toward the low, whispered words and saw the guy in the red shirt she’d ditched on the dance floor. He was leaning against a pillar and she blinked at him, unease skittering down her spine along with a jolt of embarrassment as she ducked into the crowd.

I am. I am a bitch, I really am.

She found Reagan a few minutes later just walking off the dance floor, her arm around Evan as they laughed. Reagan looked joyful and slightly drunk, a sheen of sweat making them both glow. “My bestie,” she said, throwing her arms around her. “You’re so pretty. Isn’t she pretty, Evan? God, you’re so pretty, I hate you.” Okay, a little more than slightly drunk. “I love this girl,” she crooned, kissing her on the cheek. Josie laughed despite her desire to get out of there.

“I love you too, Rea. I’m going to head home.”

“Home? No! We just got here.”

“I’m not feeling great.”

She gave her a disbelieving look, but before she could say anything else, Josie hugged her again. “It’s only a couple of blocks. I’ll text you when I get there.”

“I could walk you home,” Evan offered.

She met his intense gaze and shook her head. “No, seriously, you take care of this girl. I’ll text you,” she said again to Reagan, moving away from them both, Reagan’s outstretched hand dropping from hers. She blew her a kiss. “See you soon,” Josie mouthed, raising her hand and blowing a kiss back. Reagan pretended to catch it and hold it to her chest, the crowd swallowing her up as Josie turned away.

Although it was officially spring in Cincinnati, a cool night breeze washed over Josie’s heated skin and caused a chill. She wrapped her arms around her body as she began walking the short distance toward home. She and Reagan lived in an apartment in Clifton, an area of Cincinnati that rented to many of the local college students. It was close to school, and it had a decent nightlife within walking distance, one she and Reagan were enjoying thoroughly using their fake IDs. The streets were well lit and still occupied by people going to and from bars and restaurants, even though it was past midnight.

A couple laughed as they walked past, the woman’s eyes bright, arms clasped through the man’s. He looked down at her adoringly. Josie looked away, loneliness spearing through her. She should have gone over and talked to that older man. Why hadn’t she? Maybe she should go back, see if he was still there, invite him home. But then she remembered the crowd, the overwhelming feeling of being suffocated by all those people. The heat. The noise, when she’d been craving quiet.

She took her phone from her pocket as she walked, telling herself she’d regret dialing his number, but doing it anyway. She just wanted to listen to his outgoing message. Hear his voice. That was all. Maybe it would help remind her why she’d broken things off. Her stomach clenched—with excitement, dread—as the phone rang, once, twice, and then his voice picked up, clipped. “Hello?”

Heart galloping, she stayed quiet, stepping to the curb as though he might be able to tell it was her from the sound of her footsteps. She’d gotten a new number; he wouldn’t recognize it.

“Hello?” he repeated. She heard something in the background. The very low hum of traffic? Was he out too? “Josie?” At the sound of her name, her heart jumped and she hung up quickly, her self-loathing surging once more.

“Shit,” she whispered. How had he known it was her? Because you’re the only pathetic woman he knows, her mind whispered. And why had she done that? Why? Because it was that time of night when alcohol and melancholy tricked you into thinking bad ideas could end well, that was why. How many times had she given in to that feeling? Too many. She’d feel better in the morning, she knew. But for that moment, yearning tore through her, the longing for something she wasn’t even sure she could put into words. You’re drunk, Josie. Just get home and go to bed. Stop torturing yourself.

Her apartment came into sight, and she sent Reagan a quick text letting her know she’d made it home. She tripped slightly, catching herself, wobbling on her heels. “Little too much to drink?” came a voice.

She let out an alarmed squeal, bringing her hand to her chest when she saw it was just the downstairs neighbor, sitting casually in the lone chair to the right of the building’s front door. “Hi,” she greeted with a tight smile as she walked gingerly up the steps. “Kinda chilly out here, isn’t it?”

“I d-don’t mind,” he stuttered, his eyes darting away quickly and then back to hers. His cheeks flushed. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, just awkward and sort of gawky. Strange. She felt the weight of his presence, his proximity, as she pulled her key out of her small purse. Her scalp prickled, his eyes boring into her as she stood directly next to him, unlocking the door. He’s harmless, she told herself. Creepy, but harmless. The key slipped and she fumbled, the scent of him meeting her nose—something vaguely tropical, pineapple or coconut. A mixture maybe. What was it? A hair product? An odd scent for a man. Too sweet. Unpleasant.

The lock clicked open and she turned to her neighbor—what was his name? He’d told her his name and she’d forgotten—giving him a quick smile. He startled slightly at her movement, his gaze shooting to hers. She saw desire in it. Desire and a sort of . . . indecision. Like he was contemplating saying something but wasn’t sure he should. “Well, goodnight,” she said quickly, scooting in the door and closing it behind her as she jogged up the stairs, holding her breath until she made it to the top, half expecting to hear her name called from below before she could safely enter her apartment. She unlocked the door and flipped the lock, standing on the other side for a moment, catching her breath. She let out a small laugh that ended in a groan, shaking her head at herself as she pushed away from the door. “Silly,” she muttered. “Paranoid.” The awkward man was no threat. If he asked her out—and she had a sense he would sooner rather than later—she’d simply say thanks but no thanks.

Her cell phone rang, jarring her from her thoughts and she froze as she saw whose number it was. He was calling back the number that had just hung up on him. Me.

Shit, shit, shit. She suddenly felt more sober. And smarter than she’d been five minutes ago. Sucked how her good sense could seemingly fade in and out that way. She couldn’t let her voicemail answer. She jabbed at the phone, answering it but not speaking. “Hello?” came his voice. Her stomach knotted, and she clenched her eyes shut. Despite her best efforts, longing singed her nerves. There was a pause before he said, “Josie, I know it’s you.” When she still didn’t answer, he sighed. “Meet me, Josie. Or I can come there—” She disconnected the call, hurriedly dialing her voicemail and changing it to an anonymous electronic greeting. And now she’d need to change her number again. I’m such an idiot, she thought. Such a weak, pathetic idiot.

In the bathroom, she stared at her face. Alcohol and self-recrimination mixed, and for the flash of a moment she was back there, in that small dingy bathroom in the house where she’d grown up, staring at her own stricken expression in the mirror above the sink while she listened to her parents’ angry yells, the inevitable crash of something breaking, her mother’s screams, the door slamming as her father left. She closed her eyes, remembering how it’d felt. Why was she thinking of that?

Quickly, she turned on the water and scrubbed her face free of makeup, tearing off the false lashes she’d applied a few hours before, the glue leaving angry red marks on her lids.

She climbed into bed and lay staring at the ceiling for several minutes, a lump lodged in her chest, an ache inside that she had no clue how to heal. Thankfully, sleep took hold, pulling her gently under its feathery wing.

She woke with a scream lodged in her throat, someone’s hands around her neck. Panic shot through her body—hot, immediate—bringing her quickly out of the deep sleep she’d been in. She registered a man in a black ski mask on top of her, his hands around her neck, his weight crushing her into the mattress.

Josie’s heart seized, horror spiking through her in pulsing waves. He made a movement with his hips and she felt his erection. Oh nonono. Her mind went numb. She was only fight now. She bucked upward with her body, flailing outward with her arms, attempting to kick but unable to with his weight on her hips.

He laughed, a slick, oily sound filled with glee.

OhGodohGodohGod.

She couldn’t breathe. I’m going to die, I’m going to die. Hot tears leaked from her eyes as she writhed and twisted and fought, his hands around her neck only growing tighter as her body grew weaker, sparks bursting before her eyes as her brain struggled for oxygen. Suddenly he let go and she sucked in a huge lungful of air, surging forward, his elbow connecting with her cheekbone in a jarring thud. She opened her mouth to scream just as something sharp plunged into her thigh. He held her down easily as whatever drug he’d given her shot through her veins, making her limbs too heavy to move, her brain thick, soupy. Once more, she tried to scream, but no sound came out.

The world went dark.

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About the authors

Mia Sheridan

Mia Sheridan

Mia Sheridan is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. Her passion is weaving true love stories about people destined to be together. Mia lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband. They have four children here on earth and one in heaven. Mia can be found online at www.miasheridan.com or www.facebook.com/miasheridanauthor.

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Reviews

Customer reviews

4.5 out of 5

7,318 global ratings

Jo Fergus

Jo Fergus

5

I. Was. Hooked.

Reviewed in the United States on April 17, 2020

Verified Purchase

I thought that going into a nationwide lockdown would mean untold hours of reading but I found myself unable to concentrate on anything other than what was going on around me. That all changed when I downloaded the audio version of this book. I. Was. Hooked. I haven’t felt that for so long!

Josie is out on a regular night with friends at a local bar that ends with her being kidnapped from her own bed and chained to a wall by her captor. This is just the beginning of 8 months of terror and survival for her. And honestly, I have no idea how she ever survived what she went through but her determination to fight until the end ultimately is what saved her.

Eight years later, another victim is found and the similarities of this crime and Josie’s case are uncanny. Detective Zach Copeland has never forgotten the night he met Josie after she escaped her captor and lay in a hospital bed while he guarded her door. All those memories come flooding back to him as he tries to reconcile what has just happened to another woman and how it could be linked to Josie’s case.

Josie lives in an old farmhouse that was left to her by her late grandmother. Her plan is to turn it into a B&B and make a business out of it. It has taken her years to move on from what happened to her in that basement and it is not far from her mind. When Zach arrives on her doorstep and shares with her what has recently happened she begins to relive every moment with her captor all over again.

Sadly this latest death is just the beginning of what will become a suspense filled story that has Josie and Zach working together as he tries to protect her from being a target once again and working out what the hell is going on.

I was on the edge of my seat trying to figure out who was responsible and also invested in what seemed to be happening between Josie and Zach. Honestly I could not stop listening. This is a thrilling, all encompassing, sad and heartfelt story. You have to read this!

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Wendy LeGrand

Wendy LeGrand

5

A brilliant suspense story from one of my favorite authors!

Reviewed in the United States on September 15, 2019

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Romantic suspense has been a trope I have really been eating up this past year, and when Mia Sheridan announced she would be writing a suspense story, I absolutely had to read it! She has really been branching out with her last several books, and I have loved each and every one of them.

Josie Stratton - this girl was strength personified with every thing she went through in this book! Abducted, held captive, repeatedly raped - at just 19 years old. How she managed to survive that both emotionally and physically I cannot even comprehend. Reading about the things she was put through was very tough, not gonna lie about that. But the sheer will she had to survive was amazing. She's spent the last eight years trying to heal and move on and create a new life for herself.

Zach Copeland sounds like every woman's dream. A dedicated cop, who also happens to be out of this world good looking? Yes, please!! He and his partner find themselves investigating a recent murder that is so similar to what Josie went through eight years ago, it is scary.

This story kept me on the edge of my seat. Starting out in present day, Mia intersperses chapters throughout that take us back to what Josie went through during those ten months she was held captive. And we learn a lot about what kind of childhood she had, and how that shaped her as a young woman attending college and not always making the best choices she could have for herself.

I can honestly say, I had no clue how this story was going to turn out, or what revelations would be revealed along the way. As a self-professed Psychology nerd, I was fascinated with the mindset of Josie's abductor, and with the mindset of whoever was posing as this copycat killer. Actually, I was fascinated with the mindset of just about all the characters in the story. Josie's for sure, with Zach who has some things from his past that drives him today to be the best cop he can be. With some other secondary characters who I won't discuss here since their roles would be too spoilerish, but nonetheless fascinated me as well.

I am just amazed at how Mia comes up with these stories, how she crafts such a complete world that these people live in, and how she manages to draw me straight into the story within the first few paragraphs. And yes, there is romance in here, but it was organic and subtle and fit just so seamlessly into the story. Mia has another incredible story here!!

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20 people found this helpful

AlohaD

AlohaD

5

Did not see THAT twist coming!

Reviewed in the United States on October 20, 2019

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What do you do when one of you favorite authors drops a book? You one-click, of course. I may be the odd one out, but I tend to not even read the synopsis of my favorite authors because I want to be surprised. And boy was I surprised with this one! Where the Blame Lies was not Mia Sheridan's normal contemporary romance. There was a tad bit of romance, but that was not at the forefront. This was more in the psychological thriller genre and she DID NOT disappoint. I was pulled in from the beginning to end and can't believe this type of book was swimming around in Ms Sheridan's head.

My first clue that this book was going to be different should have been obvious. I follow some social media accounts and Mia had said she was writing this book with a rain sound effect on. I can't think of a better way to get in the mind frame of the story than this. I actually read this book while it was raining in the PNW. Dark and dreary and sad. It really set the tone. This was a book about pain and suffering but also survival and the beauty in human strength.

This book is not an easy one to read. We live in the past and present of the main character, Josie. A woman that experienced one of the worst things anyone can experience. But she is/was a survivor and endured being captured by someone with an evil that lived within them. Living through those moments was so real. Mia Sheridan captured the character's feelings and the scenes so vividly (or should I say darkly). The plot moves back and forth between the time periods in a very fluid manner. The past showed what she had to endure and what got her there. It was ugly and hard to bear witness to such evil. Who could do that?

Flash forward to the present and crimes are being committed that are mirroring Josie's own. A copy cat. How could this be happening when her case was all but "solved and handled"? Enter Zach, a detective on these new cases and one that happened to be around when Josie survived her own tragedies. He is getting too close to the victim while investigating the new crimes. He must keep her safe by any means necessary. How close will they become and how far will he go to protect her?

This story is unlike any other Mia Sheridan book I've read and it worked. It flows from beginning to end seamlessly and we get a feel of who Josie was before and after. I enjoyed seeing Zach come in with his mission to protect and serve. The twist blew my mind but was believable. I thought one thing toward the beginning but was pretty much derailed right from the get go. I was kept on my toes all throughout and worried about Josie's safety and about the abilities of the local police force. When your heart is pounding for fictional characters, you know the author did their job. And when they drop the bomb and then not "tie it all in a pretty bow"? You scream hallelujah! Genius and masterful!

I applaud Mia Sheridan for taking on a different genre and doing it so well. A true artist that excels at her craft. She constantly captures her characters in such a way that makes them unique yet believable in any sort of scenario. Even though this wasn't her normal genre, she clearly can write it and I can't wait to read more like it from her.

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4 people found this helpful

Yaya

Yaya

5

Riveting read

Reviewed in the United States on August 5, 2024

Verified Purchase

Really good writing, tight storyline with unrelenting twists and turns at a great pace, and some really good wisdom of human nature.

Amy P

Amy P

5

Mia Sheridan keeps you turning the pages

Reviewed in the United States on September 14, 2019

Verified Purchase

There are times, when reading this book, that you aren’t sure you can take more anguish. And yet Mia Sheridan heals you as surely as she bruises your heart.

When Josie Stratton was nineteen, she was abducted off her college campus, chained in an abandoned building, starved, and emotionally tortured. Ten months later, she managed to escape. Reading those scenes, dear reader, is painful. You will admire Josie tremendously, not only for her fortitude but because she is so determined to keep surviving.

Now, eight years later, it appears someone is copying the crime. Other young women are being abducted and chained. Zach, a police detective who encountered Josie the night she escaped. He is drawn to her, which adds tension and conflict to his determination to find the person replicating the crimes against Josie.

Mia Sheridan tells the story through Josie’s eyes, both now as she continues to fight to persevere and eight years ago as she was abducted and imprisoned, as well as Zach’s. He sees her strength, yet he isn’t one to let his attraction overwhelm him. When Josie has a crucial decision to make, Zach opposes her choice. He may care for her, but he doesn’t want to see her make a mistake.

You will feel this story. You will feel Josie’s terror and anguish, you will feel her courage and resilience, and you will feel Zach’s love for her. I can’t count the number of times I wept. I couldn’t see how Mia Sheridan could craft a happy ending for Josie, given all that she suffered. Sheridan offers no quick relief, no magical recovery. Josie’s survival isn’t minimized. You read this book with your heart in your throat, worried for Josie–and Zach, too. From page to page, I marveled at the many ways Mia Sheridan made me feel this story.

So grab some tissues and set aside a few hours to immerse yourself in Josie and Zach’s book. Then please come back and let me know what you thought.

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