There’s a guy I know. He wrote a book. Yeah, we all write books. But his book? I’m mad I didn’t write it.
Everything about this story I felt to my soul. Wanna-be Deborah Harry snarky bitch? Three imaginary friends built from trauma? Screwed-up family life? Supernaturally delicious mystery?
I gotta tell you … Sean Thomas McDonnell is always like this. Talented, funny, crazy. And all that awesome bleeds through every page of CHERRY KILLS. I mean, LOOK at this cover:
Cherry Kills wants to be left alone.
Unfortunately, her Alternates: an overprotective lug, a happy-go-lucky child, and a mute rabbit the size of a man, have other plans. They’ve haunted her since her father’s violent death, following her from grimy punk clubs to the TV-static halls of her apartment building. The doctor calls them hallucinations, symptoms of trauma.
But when her Alternates start interacting with the world around her, Cherry realizes it might not be all in her head.
I read this book in one day. I’m gonna read it again, too. Because that’s how much I love Cherry Kills. God, I hope Sean writes another Cherry Kills book or I’m gonna die. (You hear that, Sean? You are now responsible for my life.)