Jack Brooks is the new vicar in the Sussex hamlet of Chapel Croft. Along with fifteen-year-old daughter Flo, Jack has been persuaded to uproot from bustling city centre Nottingham to this quaint rural setting. On arrival Flo is quick to point out that the new chapel is ‘a dump’ and the dilapidated house next door, which is to be their home, does seem to be leaning somewhat precariously. It’s hardly inspiring. The locals seem a rather odd bunch too: there’s the rather creepy curate, a rude local farmer and a young lad called Wrigley who, not to put too fine a point on it, wriggles. If this weren’t enough, the place has a dark history as back in the rein of ‘Bloody’ Queen Mary two young girls who had hidden in the church which originally stood on the site of the present chapel were discovered, hounded out and burned. This act of religious persecution is still commemorated locally by the annual burning of wooden effigies.

Soon Flo is missing her friends and Jack is having a tough time transitioning to this very different environment. As we meet more of the locals and continue to learn about life in Chapel Croft it becomes evident that just about everyone seems to be hiding something. It’s clear that Jack, too, has a dark past that is hinted at but not yet fully disclosed. Events and discoveries now come thick and fast: there are ghostly sightings, a macabre package is delivered and Jack learns that thirty years ago two girls of a similar age to Flo went missing, their fate remaining a mystery to this day. The new role is quickly becoming part vicar and part detective as efforts become focused on trying to solve what feels like a rather grand puzzle.

Jack is a great character, at once as profane and as un-vicar like as you can imagine whilst at the same time possessing the deft people skills you’d associate with the role. And the relationship with Flo feels absolutely real, their interactions being deftly handled and often amusingly told. If I have a problem at all with this tale it’s that there are an awful lot of moving parts - interlocking storylines from the past and the present – and at times it just feels a little too busy. But ultimately the tension does rack up nicely toward a satisfying and surprising conclusion. It’s a story that held my attention throughout, made me smile and finally caused me to feel sad that my time with Jack and Flo had drawn to a close. I guess that’s a pretty good recommendation all on its own.

As I read this, I was reminded time and again of Phil Rickman’s Merrily Watkins series. By the end of The Burning Girls, it must (?) be an homage to it. It’s just too similar otherwise.

It’s a good read. The main character is wonderful and the plot is both suspenseful and absolutely eerie. While it’s more a slow burn than an action packed read, once things start happening, you won’t want to stop reading.

If you are a fan of Rickman’s work (and you should read him if you aren’t), you find that this isn’t quite so dark or quite so edgy. It’s a more…polite read. But nicely creepy.

In the end, I really liked it. I did find that, upon finishing it, I wanted to do a reread of Rickman’s entire series – and I’m not certain that’s what the author intended here – but if she turns this into a series, I’m very much in!

*ARC Provided via Net Galley

Rating: 9.0/10

Thanks to the publisher and author for an advance reading copy of The Burning Girls for review consideration. This did not influence my thoughts or opinions.

The Burning Girls is taut, unputdownable nail-biter of a story. A perfect blend of Stephen King and Harlan Coben with the style and panache that only Tudor can deliver. Another top-notch thriller from one of my favorite writers, and one I can definitely see lighting up Netflix in the next couple of years.

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was pretending he didn’t exist.

You all know my love for C.J. ever since I cracked open the pages of The Chalk Man. She produces such unpredictable stories leaving cliffhangers at end of every chapter she writes. Her writing style just has a way of keeping you up late at night, devouring her works in single sittings and craving more MORE MOREEEEEEEEE.

With The Burning Girls, we are given a Coban-esque type thrill-ride where different POVs all play a role in the grander scheme, but just how much of a role is constantly being shifted behind the scenes. You think you have it all figured it and then BAM! DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING, DID YA? I love that about these books, and I think some of it is derived from years of watching Law and Order. Always attempting to figure out the “whodunnits” and “howdunnits” at the halfway point – 9 times out of 10 your choice is completely wrong – and then having that OH moment with 5-10 minutes to spare in the episode. But with Tudor’s novels, I’m blindsided at every turn and I LOOOOOOVE IT!

Tudor definitely upped the scale this go round by adding in more “dead end” avenues, on top of more stories within the story. Though, and I say this with a chuckle, all I could think about whilst reading was “The Greater Good” from Edgar Wright’s ‘Hot Fuzz’. Someone from the big city is uprooted and sent to a “quaint village” and tries to rile things up that shant be riled. I half expected people in cloaks to start chanting and then a massive firefight to ensue.

Low and behold, it didn’t happen. Sorry for the non-spoiler.

All in all, Tudor continues to get better and better and will always be at the top of my TBR when I see a new release coming soon. If you are a fan of hers, or maybe this is the first time you feel like trying one of her novels, you will not be disappointed.

The Burning Girls isn't so much a mystery/thriller/tale of intrigue as it is a dozen mysteries/thrillers/tales of intrigue all wrapped into one. I wasn't really sure, until the end, Tudor would manage to tie all of the threads back together successfully, but am happy to report that it was actually pretty well managed. Oh. And creepy. It was definitely creepy.