Published by Atria Books on 30 April 2013
Genres: Adult, Contemporary
Source: Kindle Freebie
From two bestselling masters of suspense, a gripping, erotic story about a female assassin whose unsettling past comes back to haunt her…
Beautiful twenty-something Lucy Delray has spent two months in therapy when she says to her psychologist, "When I destroy someone...I don’t feel anything." An avenging angel who lures men into her bed and then kills them, she qualifies this shocking confession: "I only kill men who deserve it. Who have done the unforgivable. Who need to be punished." But when Lucy lures an influential man from her childhood back into her life—a painter she befriended when she was only seven years old—the charming temptress may be committing the ultimate crime: letting a long-buried secret interfere with the job at hand.
Closure is a very short story, like an introduction to a new author, if you will.
My Closure mini-review
Closure is not exactly the most unexpected story I have ever read, but for the twenty-five pages it lasted, I was definitely into Lucy and what she was up to. From the way she made her therapist nervous, to the way she worked to find the painter she had so admired when she was a child.
Written in first person past tense, from the unnamed therapist’s point of view, I got a good sense of Lucy, as well as Frank Millay, and the flow was nicely done. For the parts of the story when the therapist wasn’t present, the third person point of view worked well. I’m not sure why Closure needed two authors, apart from if Lescroart and Rose usually write together, that it. I might check out other books by them in the future, but I really need to get my hands on a novel now, I have read far too many short-stories lately.
Some Closure quotes:
It was this expression that made me wonder for a brief second if it was actually possible that she was… no. In all the time she had been in therapy, nothing she had ever said suggested she was capable of killing anyone. She was using these words as a metaphor for the psychological destruction of people she loved.
“The painter,” she said. I nodded. “When I was a kid, he made me realize that anything could be made into something else. He’d look at the water that I just saw as some stretch of muddy blue and he’d find a hundred colors in it. Some of them brilliant.”
Reading this book contributed to these challenges: