My Review:Perfect for fans of Gillian Flynn, Paula Hawkins, and Tana French, R. K. Jackson's lyrical, twisty psychological thriller debut follows an aspiring journalist as she uncovers dark truths in a seaswept Southern town—aided by a mysterious outcast and pursued by a ruthless killer.
When Martha Covington moves to Amberleen, Georgia, after her release from a psychiatric ward, she thinks her breakdown is behind her. A small town with a rich history, Amberleen feels like a fresh start. Taking a summer internship with the local historical society, Martha is tasked with gathering the stories of the Geechee residents of nearby Shell Heap Island, the descendants of slaves who have lived by their own traditions for the last three hundred years.
As Martha delves into her work, the voices she thought she left behind start whispering again, and she begins to doubt her recovery. When a grisly murder occurs, Martha finds herself at the center of a perfect storm—and she's the perfect suspect. Without a soul to vouch for her innocence or her sanity, Martha disappears into the wilderness, battling the pull of madness and struggling to piece together a supernatural puzzle of age-old resentments, broken promises, and cold-blooded murder. She finds an unexpected ally in a handsome young man fighting his own battles. With his help, Martha journeys through a terrifying labyrinth—to find the truth and clear her name, if she can survive to tell the tale.
The Girl in the Maze is not the best title for this book but it is about a girl, trapped only by her own mind. The one thing that kept me from being fully immersed was the voices that Martha heard -- I wasn't sure what was related to her mental illness or her "gift" or even the supernatural nature of the town. I wanted to believe her but something was so off when she had her episodes that I wasn't sure what was real. The descriptions were good, however, and I got a true sense of the tiny coastal town in Georgia -- I wanted to travel to Shell Heap Island and meet the Geechee.
Martha walked past a trio of brick archways, blocked with padlocked metalwork, some of it dented inward, and reached a peeling wooden door marked with the number sixteen. Lady Albertha's. no sign identified the place. Next to the door was a window covered by wrought-iron bars. Martha squinted into the dusty panes. Discolored Venetian blinds hung lopsided in the window. A cardboard sign on the will said: Lady Albertha. Advisor. Readings, Root Work.