Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Between #1)
By April Genevieve Tucholke
You stop fearing the devil when you’re holding his hand…
Nothing much exciting rolls through Violet White’s sleepy, seaside town… until River West comes along. River rents the guest house behind Violet’s crumbling estate, and as eerie, grim things start to happen, Violet begins to wonder about the boy living in her backyard.
Is River just a crooked-smiling liar with pretty eyes and a mysterious past? Or could he be something more?
Violet’s grandmother always warned her about the Devil, but she never said he could be a dark-haired boy who takes naps in the sun, who likes coffee, who kisses you in a cemetery... who makes you want to kiss back.
Violet’s already so knee-deep in love, she can’t see straight. And that’s just how River likes it.
Blending faded decadence and the thrilling dread of gothic horror, April Genevieve Tucholke weaves a dreamy, twisting contemporary romance, as gorgeously told as it is terrifying—a debut to watch.
My rating: 4.9/5
Seriously creepy; the perfect read before Halloween. Normally I am a leeeetle bit of a coward, as in I like paranormal books but I freak out with scary books but I didn't know this story would give me the chills and it really did. Don't get me wrong, it's not a horror story, but there are so many mysteries, disappearances and secrets that you can't help but tremble as you turn the pages.
The story is about two twins, who live in a run-down mansion. Their family used to be rich, but that was a long time ago, and now the twins live alone whilst their artistic parents have gone travelling and appear to have forgotten about their children since they tend to look after themselves.
You would think that the twins deeply care about each other, but they have a love-hate relationship, mostly hate. That is until they're forced to take care of each other.
Money is running low, and Violet doesn't think their parents are coming home anytime soon, which is why she decides to rent out the guest house. And along comes River West. He appears to be the typical mysterious bad boy but strange things happen when River comes to town, and there's more 'bad' to him than first meets the eye.
The characters seemed very real, and I felt bad for River, constantly on the run. Yes, he liked being evil but he didn't really know what good was, and he wasn't always bad. the origami money animals were a cute touch!
the creepiest parts are at the end and I wasn't entirely sure who was going to live and who would die, but you will need to read the book to find out more!
And I prayed to Freddie about the Devil. I asked her to keep my hand out of his. I asked her to keep me safe from evil.
But, for all my praying, the Devil still found me.
But my father had just picked up his paintbrush , shrugged, and said, "Violet, who knows what motivates the lesser people," before going back to his painting. So the snob description wasn't completely off.
"I thought you said your mother was an archaeologist."
River's lips were shiny with oil, and his eyes were laughing at me. "Did I?"
He shrugged. "Then I must have lied. But the problem is, which time?"
"Violet, Violet. You curl up next to me, nap, and leave. What is this, some sort of one-nap stand?" He smiled. "Screw the movie. Get back over here."
I laughed. "You said you wanted to go. You said Casablanca was one of your favourite films."
"I was sleeptalking when I said that. It's like sleepwalking, except you do it with your mouth."
Brodie paused. And did his dance again, one hand on his hip, the other in the air, spinning around on one heel of his boot. "We tend to go insane. Down in the dirt, rootin' tootin', tear-your-hair-out insane. Ma's been locked up in the asylum for years now. Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahaha. My grandparents tried to raise me right, but hey, they're old and I've got a lot of energy. It didn't work out so well."
Freddie often told me that you've got to be happy when you can, because life won't wait for you to take the tie. And she was right. She'd learned that the hard way.
I ran my fingers over the scars on my wrists. Life was safer, without River. And less. Less breathtaking. Less terrifying. Less stirring. Less...everything.
What I felt, though, deep, deep down in the darkest dark of my heart, was that I didn't give a damn if River was evil. I still liked him. Maybe I even kind of loved him. And maybe that made me wicked too.