Review + Giveaway || He Will Be My Ruin by K.A. Tucker

Synopsis:
The USA TODAY bestselling author of the Ten Tiny Breaths and Burying Water series makes her suspense debut with this sexy, heartpounding story of a young woman determined to find justice after her best friend’s death, a story pulsing with the “intense, hot, emotional” (Colleen Hoover) writing that exhilarates her legions of fans.

A woman who almost had it all . . .

On the surface, Celine Gonzalez had everything a twenty-eight-year-old woman could want: a one-bedroom apartment on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, a job that (mostly) paid the bills, and an acceptance letter to the prestigious Hollingsworth Institute of Art, where she would finally live out her dream of becoming an antiques appraiser for a major auction house. All she had worked so hard to achieve was finally within her reach. So why would she kill herself?

A man who was supposed to be her salvation . . .

Maggie Sparkes arrives in New York City to pack up what’s left of her best friend’s belongings after a suicide that has left everyone stunned. The police have deemed the evidence conclusive: Celine got into bed, downed a lethal cocktail of pills and vodka, and never woke up. But when Maggie discovers a scandalous photograph in a lock box hidden in Celine’s apartment, she begins asking questions. Questions about the man Celine fell in love with. The man she never told anyone about, not even Maggie. The man Celine believed would change her life.

Until he became her ruin.

On the hunt for evidence that will force the police to reopen the case, Maggie uncovers more than she bargained for about Celine’s private life—and inadvertently puts herself on the radar of a killer. A killer who will stop at nothing to keep his crimes undiscovered.

★★★☆☆

The man was once my salvation.

Now he will be my ruin.

K.A. Tucker did her magic again. Of course she did. This book was not (pfft, definitely not) my first K.A. Tucker book. Arguably, this was my first standalone novel by her. This was my tenth (I think?) book I've read of hers. And one thing is for sure: K.A. Tucker doesn't (and will not likely) disappoint me.

As I've said, I've read a lot of her books but K.A. Tucker branching out to mystery? Hmm, that got me a bit skeptical. Could she pull this off? In the end, of course, she has. The writing style was on point, as always. It was written really well. This book has a pretty steady pacing. Just slow enough to make me understand what's happening and fast enough so I won't get bored easily.

I really love the characters of this book. The "good," the "bad," all of them. They all helped with the development of the book (SPOILER ALERT!!! I think what you're about to read can potentially spoil you of the story so if you still want to read it, highlight the next part ->) I was hoping, really hoping, that one of the guys would be the good guy. That he was only framed with all the stuff he was accused of. It was bittersweet, knowing that we can never really know who a person really is until they let us in. I was actually surprised at how I was deceived by the characters until the very end where there was a big revelation. I did not see that coming.

Overall, this book was a pleasant surprise. This was not that great but it was an awesome book considering this was K.A. Tucker's first venture (or is it?) to mystery. Surprisingly, I've learned a lot from this "intense" book.

Did I like the ending? Hot damn, I did. It was great ending, tbh.

Is it a page turner? Hell yes.

Would I re-read it again? A K.A. Tucker book? Anytime!

     These are Celine’s most private things. No one was ever supposed to find them.
     With slightly shaky hands, I shift my focus to the bottom of the closet, where shoe boxes and storage containers are stacked in tidy piles. I toss them about, rooting through the contents, anxious over what I might find.
Until I come to a decorative box of dangly necklaces and bracelets, made from giant stones. An uneducated person might mistake them for costume jewelry, but I know that the diamonds are real. I can tell by their sparkle. Several receipts sit at the bottom of the box, indicating a pawnshop where it looks like Celine had already sold some pieces.
     I crawl on my hands and knees to check under the bed. Nothing but a single dust bunny—the soul survivor of Celine’s excessive cleaning regime—hides there.
     I toss the lamp onto the recently delivered and freshly made bed—the silk white shade bends but I don’t care—and pull apart the makeshift end table, yanking the long and narrow crates apart to hit the hardwood in a loud clatter.
     Books spill out everywhere.
     The crates are full of little books, ranging from pink journals with unicorns to leather-bound diaries with locks. No keys included.
     I didn’t know Celine kept a diary. But of course she did. She liked keeping track of everything. It only makes sense that she would keep track of her life.
     I gather every last one and spread them out across the bed. Hoping that somewhere in here I’ll find a reasonable answer…
     Dreading the truth.