When I finished this book, I handed it to my colleague and she said the same thing I did upon seeing it for the first time: “It looks really familiar. His name… I can’t remember who he is, but he sounds like I know him.”
I’m pretty sure I’ve read something of his before, but I could remember nothing about it. I finished Bleed For Me a few days ago, and now that I’m coming to writing the review, I can’t remember it either. This leads me to think that, whilst Robotham’s books are pretty good at the time of reading, they don’t exactly stick in your head afterwards.
A young girl turns up at her best friend’s house covered in blood. Her father is discovered dead in his bedroom, and accusations of sexual abuse are made by her disabled older sister. All of these things point to the girl’s guilt, but her best friend’s father, a psychologist, is not convinced and sets out to solve the mystery on his own.
It was pretty good, I enjoyed it. I wouldn’t go out of my way to find it. My colleague didn’t like it. So, a 50/50 review. Pretty average crime fiction.