Well. Megan Abbott may not be my perfect author, but it was an alright story and not what I’d assumed.
Although judging a book by its cover is wrong, I’d say the cover was a mistake. Book about a paedophile stealing a 13-year-old? Maybe don’t go with the summery legs in shorts.
I found it slightly distasteful how delicate Megan was with the whole paedophile thing. Where Nabokov’s Humbert Humbert obsessively beautified his love for Lolita (making it more brutal and grotesque in the process), Megan sort of left her paedophile alone and let two 13-year-olds do the beautifying.
I’m sure she thought she was being different and bold but it just wasn’t quite all there.
Still, nowhere near as awful as the cheerleader monstrosity.