Synopsis
Perched on the rugged coast of Maine, The Precipice is a storied, family-owned hotel that has stood for generations. But with the recent passing of its owner, George Bishop, his three daughters—Iris, Vicki, and Faith—return for the weekend, each determined to claim what they believe is rightfully theirs. As a hurricane looms over the cliffs, long-buried secrets rise to the surface, and soon, murder is in the air. Not everyone who checks into The Precipice will make it out alive.
Caught in the middle is Charley Kelley, the hotel’s sharp and resourceful nineteen-year-old chambermaid. After a troubled childhood, she dropped out of school at seventeen and took a chance on George’s offer: a job, free room and board, and a fresh start. But with George gone, Charley’s future at the hotel is anything but secure. Will the Bishop sisters shut the place down? Fire her? Discover her habit of pocketing trinkets from guests? Or worse—uncover the dangerous secret she’s been keeping hidden in one of the guest rooms?
As tensions rise and the storm closes in, the sisters’ arrival could mean disaster for Charley. Because at The Precipice, survival isn’t guaranteed—and some secrets are worth killing for.
My Final Thoughts
I don’t even know where to begin. Something about this story felt eerily familiar—so much so that I had to pause halfway through to double-check whether I’d read it before. Then, I found myself cross-referencing other books, wondering if I’d come across something strikingly similar. I don’t know what it was about this one, but I was predicting everything as I read. I’m convinced I’ve seen this plot before.
Despite the déjà vu, not a single character had any redeeming qualities. There was no one to root for.
Charley is naive and childlike, living in a fairytale she’s concocted in her head. She frequently mentions her love for books, crediting them as an escape from her trauma, but emotionally, she’s still stuck at fourteen—the age when she found her mother and her world shattered. I get that Day intentionally wrote her this way, but what really threw me off was how little her behavior reflected real-life trauma responses. Charley, after everything she’d been through, was way too trusting. Her immediate attachment to Bree—someone she had just met—felt unnatural. She poured out her entire life story, opening up as if Bree was some long-lost confidante. But kids who’ve endured what Charley has? They usually keep their guard up. They struggle to trust. It bugged me that self-preservation never crossed her mind.
And then there’s Bree Bradford. From the moment she appeared, everything about her screamed suspicious—down to her wardrobe. She was decked out in designer clothes but somehow couldn’t afford a bus ticket out of Maine? She just had to stay at The Precipice and absolutely needed Charley to be her knight in shining armor? Please.
You just might be saving my life, Charley.
Bree was all ears when Charley spilled her entire life story, yet she offered next to nothing about herself. The only details she shared? An abusive boyfriend who never actually appeared and a conveniently dead mother. And no one—no one—was looking for her? In a town so small that it needed backup from other counties for police, fire, and EMS, you’re telling me Bree just magically disappeared from her boyfriend’s grasp and he didn’t call the cops? He didn’t go looking for her? That’s strange. Charley never questioned it. And Bree’s “secret”? I clocked it early on. That conveniently highlighted photo on the wall? It was practically screaming at me.
Now, onto the Bishop sisters—Victoria, Iris, and Faith. Eccentric, beautiful, mysterious, and back at their family’s hotel for the reading of their father’s will, along with their respective families. We have:
- Todd, Vicki’s crude, disrespectful, all-around jerk of a husband.
- Quinn, their son, because obviously we needed a gorgeous love-interest subplot.
- Hope and Oliver, Iris’ wife and teenage son. And Oliver? He only spoke in rhymes and riddles, which drove me insane.
- Brenda Black, the lawyer, who comes with her own shady past, exposed by none other than the hotel’s front desk worker, Rodrigo.
Throw in a chef who quits early on, a detective who couldn’t detect a damn thing, and a handful of other characters—dead and alive—and you have a tangled web of a story designed to throw you off track. Except… I saw everything coming. I knew who did it, I knew the connection, and I had a solid guess at the motive. Okay, fine, not the exact why, but I knew enough. The first murder? Pegged it immediately. Because it’s always the quiet ones with the real grudge. The Bishop sisters’ big secret from 38 years ago? Clocked that too. A small callback during the chef’s introduction had me side-eyeing, and I just knew it would come back around. If I could share my Kindle notes, you’d see I had this story figured out.
The climax? Entertaining, sure, but it dragged. It wasn’t as engaging as I wanted. I wanted more layers of exposure, darker motives, and a completely different ending for Bree, Quinn, Vicki, and Charley. Without spoiling anything, I’ll just say—I expected more. More depth, more tension, less of Oliver’s rhyming nonsense, and way more ominous participation from Quinn. I mean, the guy’s an art history minor—give him something to do!
And the ending? It ruined the whole book for me. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—I hate when sappy romance gets shoved into murder mysteries. It’s so annoying. You’re running for your life, two people have already been murdered, and you’re gazing longingly into someone’s eyes and having a passionate kiss? No. Where is the survival instinct? If my life is at stake, I am not getting all tingly and doe-eyed at some guy. Gross.
Much like Jamie Day’s The Block Party, this book was too predictable. I don’t know if that’s her formula, but she has another one coming out soon, and I can’t say I’ll be rushing to read it. If you like an easy murder mystery with zero thrill and zero actual mystery, then sure—pick this one up. But if you’re looking for suspense, tension, or unpredictable twists? Keep moving.
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