It was supposed to be the weekend of their lives—an exclusive house party on Henry Island. Best friends Meg and Minnie each have their reasons for being there and look forward to three glorious days of boys, booze and fun-filled luxury.
But what they expect is definitely not what they get, and what starts out as fun turns dark and twisted after the discovery of a DVD with a sinister message: Vengeance is mine.
Suddenly people are dying, and with a storm raging, the teens are cut off from the outside world. No electricity, no phones, no internet, and a ferry that isn’t scheduled to return for two days. As the deaths become more violent and the teens turn on each other.
As a thriller lover, and with all the hype surrounding this book, I’ve been anticipating Gretchen McNeil’s Ten since spring. Christopher Pike’s blurb that claimed McNeil’s setup to be flawless sold me. So I finally got my hands on it and finished it in about a day (it’s 300 pages long, but with the generous line spacing, it felt more like 150.) And now I think Christopher Pike is a filthy liar.
Pacing Saved (and Killed) This Book:
The fast pacing made Ten readable. Dead people left and right. But the fast pace (and the piling dead people) desensitized me while also severely limiting character development. The characters all felt like paper dolls created to be killed off a few seconds later.
Spooning. Is it just me, or does that sound dirty?
What I thought when I first encountered “spooning”: “Wait…they just witnessed a dead body five seconds ago, this isn’t a good time for sexy times! What’s wrong with these horny teens?”
I must’ve re-read both occurrences where “spooning” popped up, the image in my head wasn’t pretty. But this might be just me with my dirty mind. *twiddles thumbs* Why must they spoon? Is cuddling too mainstream?