If I had to summarize “Pretty Little Dead Girls” it would be one of the best books to ever survive torpedoing itself. But let me back up.
“Pretty Little Dead Girls” is a novel that transcends genre. It’s horror told in a whimsical, romantic style, as if the narrator is a slightly eccentric middle-aged woman telling you dark stories while serving you tea and lemon cake in the sunshine of her veranda–and you feel no reason to distrust either the tea or the lemon cake. The subject is truly horrible, but bathed in a delightful golden light.
The story centers around Bryony Adams, a woman who, from her earliest years, has been marked for death. Everyone can see it in her eyes. She will die, die soon, and die horribly. And yet she hasn’t–so far. Her ill-fated fragility draws those who want to protect her. And Death itself seems to have bad aim, continually missing her and killing people around her. Sooner or later, however, Death will not miss…
Let me say straight out that Yardley’s use of language and tone in this novel is magical. I nearly felt guilty for taking such delight in such darkness. I loved this book, or I wouldn’t be reviewing it at all. It’s a compelling story that draws you in and pulls you along.
And yet there were enough typos and editing mistakes–at least in the POD format–that I got thrown out of the story several times and am still a little irritated about that. I can endure a few typos–I find those even in big publisher releases–but the errors were too many and too large to ignore. It could have been so much better a book if only I could have just read onward without being interrupted by the novel itself.
If you’re one who is not bothered by such things you’ll likely love this book. Perhaps it’s cleaner in other formats, such as the ebook. There are ample 4- and 5-star reviews on Amazon, and none of the ones I read mentioned the editing. So it’s entirely possible other formats are just fine, or I’m just too picky.
In any case, if you’re interested in a different sort of novel; a quirky, magical experience that somehow bestows an airy quality to the darkest of subjects; this is one worth trying out. I understand why it’s reviewed so favorably. It’s worth reading around the editing problems. Also, aside from the dark subject matter, there is nothing else to disqualify this book. There is no bad language, there is no sex. The violence is only moderately, poetically graphic–and I have to admit it’s probably better with it, as otherwise it would be easy to accuse this book of sugar-coating. Horrible things happen in this book, and we should be shocked by it, however briefly. Whatever genre it may be, it is at least horror.
I might never have picked this novel up if not for my recent forays into horror. This is probably the best non-horror-horror novel I’ve ever read. I just wish I could make a few quick clean-up edits.