When Fig Coxbury buys a house on West Barrett Street, it’s not because she likes the neighborhood, or even because she likes the house. It’s because everything she desires is next door: The husband, the child, and the life that belongs to someone else.
If I’m being completely honest, I was bummed the whole first 30% of this book. I was. There. Are you happy to hear that? My most anticipated read of 2016 and crash…
The thing with Tarryn’s book is this: I wait so long for them. I dream of them. I devour them in one day. I ignore everything and every one in site. I want her books to hit me where I need it most. When I don’t even expect it. But at first, Bad Mommy didn’t impact me like that. I was bored. I wasn’t hooked. I didn’t want tarnished hopes and dreams on a TF book. I just didn’t.
MF Jolene. Jolene and her powerful characteristics and her goodness and her craziness. I fell in love. I’ve never fallen in love with a female character until now. Until Bad Mommy.
I’ve also never felt more psychotic than when I read this book. My crazy might have been showing too. Sometimes it’s hard for me to tuck it in all day. But it felt okay with Bad Mommy. Crazy felt good.
The three different parts and three POVs were a nice touch but part three and Jolene’s POV was undoubtedly my favorite. Hands down. I was completely invested and connected by this point. I was immensely consumed from that point on. Something about “The Writer’s” POV rocked me to my core.
I’m writing this to say THIS is Tarryn. This is Tarryn’s writing. This is that punch that you’re looking for. That bitter pill you can’t quite swallow so you need a drink of water to help shove it down. The push that you need to rid yourself of all of the toxic bullshit in your life. You need this book. You need it to open your eyes.
Just like I need Tarryn’s writing for the rest of my life. Just bury me with it. I hope that sounds creepy.