My Review:From Jessica Knoll—author of Luckiest Girl Alive, the instant New York Times bestseller and the bestselling debut novel of 2015—comes a blisteringly paced thriller starring competitive sisters whose dark secrets and lies result in murder when they sign onto a reality TV show.
When five hyper-successful women agree to appear on a reality series set in New York City called Goal Diggers, the producers never expect the season will end in murder…
Brett’s the fan favorite. Tattooed and only twenty-seven, the meteoric success of her spin studio—and her recent engagement to her girlfriend—has made her the object of jealousy and vitriol from her castmates.
Kelly, Brett’s older sister and business partner, is the most recent recruit, dismissed as a hanger-on by veteran cast. The golden child growing up, she defers to Brett now—a role which requires her to protect their shocking secret.
Stephanie, the first black cast member and the oldest, is a successful bestselling author of erotic novels. There have long been whispers about her hot, non-working actor-husband and his wandering eye, but this season the focus is on the rift that has opened between her and Brett, former best friends—and resentment soon breeds contempt.
Lauren, the start-up world’s darling whose drinking has gotten out of control, is Goal Diggers’ recovery narrative—everyone loves a comeback story.
And Jen, made rich and famous through her cultishly popular vegan food line plays a holistic hippie for the cameras, but is perhaps the most ruthless of them all when the cameras are off.
The Favorite Sister explores the invisible barriers that prevent women from rising up the ranks in today’s America—and offers a scathing take on the oft-lionized bonds of sisterhood, and the relentless pressure to stay young, relevant, and salable.
The Favorite Sister comes out next week on May 15, 2018, you can purchase HERE! I've loved both of Jessica Knoll's books and can't wait for more from her!
I can tell you what does not appeal to me. The very idea of motherhood feels like a hangman's noose around my neck. Just another set of hands, tugging at my hemline, a tinier voice hawing, but what about me? A baby is an emotional burden and I am emotionally burdened enough. I spent my childhood in service of my mother's anxiety, of pretending like it was unremarkable to be one of three black students in my graduating class. I've spent my marriage emotionally and financially supporting my husband's lazy ambitions to become the next Ryan Gosling. I've spent my life overprepared, overdressed, mostly sober, and voluntarily undersexed, because one clipped red light and I'm being dragged away in handcuffs from a beamer that couldn't possibly be mine.