The Blame Game by Sandie Jones [Book Review]

Hello, my friends! I’ve got a really interesting book review for you this week. The Blame Game by Sandie Jones was one emotional ride after another. Most of my emotions were anger at the main character, but I’ll get to that in a minute. If you’re new here, Welcome! I’m Pamela, aka The Picky Bookworm, and I love showcasing and promoting amazing books! I specialize in indie and self-published books, but occasionally you’ll see a mainstream thrown in. Lately, most of my mainstream books have come from Netgalley, and The Blame Game is no different. I hope you enjoy!

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Synopsis

Naomi is a therapist, who specializes in domestic abuse. She also has a habit of getting a little too involved. (psst…can we say, bad boundaries?) When she tries to help her patient, Jacob, leave his wife, she ends up caught in a maelstrom of intrigue and violence that may disturb even the modicum of a quiet life she’s come to depend on.

When Jacob disappears, Naomi’s own past comes back to haunt her, and she ends up with more secrets than truth. Can she find the truth through the lies, or will the lies be her undoing?

Thank you to Netgalley for a free copy of (book) in return for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

Excerpt

“Naomi Chandler?” asks the woman, her attempt at a smile unable to bely the fact that they’re obviously here on official business. Just their stance and weathered expressions tell me they’re police officers.

I offer a stiff smile, but it’s almost as if my face has forgotten how to be normal.

Yes,” I croak. “How can I help you?

“I’m Detective Inspector Robson,” she says. “And this is Detective Sergeant Harris.”

They make a show of presenting their IDs but my brain is racing so far ahead that it could have been their library cards.

“We’re investigating the disappearance of Michael Talbot,” says the man, looking like the classic English TV detective with his Barbour-esque jacket and navy chinos.

“Oh, I don’t know if I can help you,” I say. “Is he a local man?”

They look at each other. “May we come in?” says the woman.

I go to stand aside but feel suddenly vulnerable, as if I’m inviting a pair of serial killers into the house. I’m almost too embarrassed to question their status. I wonder which is the lesser of two evils.

As if sensing my reticence, the woman offers up her ID again and I squint to read the small writing.

I lead them through to the front room and invite them to take a seat, but they say they’d prefer to stand.

“So,” I offer, when they’re not forthcoming. “How can I help?”

“As I said, we’re looking into the disappearance of Michael Talbot,” says the man. “Do you know him?”

My brow furrows. “No,” I say more abruptly than I intended. They give each other a conspiratorial glance again.

“Are you sure about that?”

I look between the two of them , getting the distinct impression that they know something I don’t.

“So you’re not in any kind of personal relationship with him then,” asks the woman, who I think is Robson, tilting her head to the side.

“Why . . .” I start, my tongue feeling like cotton wool. “Why would you think that?” I wonder if I’ve misunderstood what she’s trying to imply.

“Because we’ve been following some leads and your name has come up on more than one occasion.” A heat creeps up from my toes, encompassing my whole body, inch by inch, until it reaches my ears.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I manage. “You must have the wrong person; I don’t know a Michael Talbot.”

Robson gives an almost imperceptible nod to her colleague, who reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out a photo. As I study the man, a burning hot liquid sets my chest alight. It’s traveling with such ferocity that I throw a hand over my mouth to stop it ending up on the detectives’ shiny shoes.

“So, you do know him?” says the man, almost smugly.

I don’t look up, unable to tear myself away from the man in the photo. His laughing eyes crease his crows’ feet and his gentle smile sends daggers through my heart.

“Th . . .” I go to speak, but can’t form the words.

“Take your time, Mrs. Chandler.”

“Th-that isn’t Michael Talbot,” I stutter. They look at each other with raised eyebrows.

“So, who is it then?”

My trembling hands can’t keep the picture still. I wait for the face on it to change; to one I’ve never seen before. But the longer I wait, the sharper the image becomes, imprinting itself on my brain.

“Th-that’s Jacob Mackenzie.”

—If she wasn’t so intuitive, so curious, then perhaps I could have told her my real name. But she’d only poke around and find out things she didn’t want to know. I’m not ready for that. Not yet. I have to be patient, stick to the plan, because if she finds out who I really am, there’ll be no coming back from it.—

My Thoughts

I had many, many thoughts about The Blame Game. I thought the main character was horrible for the things she did “in the service of her patients.” I found myself getting angry over and over again, because when things would come to light that Naomi had lied about, she would admit the truth, but then come up with another lie to cover up why she had lied to begin with. I never really understood the whole “unreliable narrator” thing, and I still don’t, really, but I also couldn’t believe a word that came out of Naomi’s mouth. So maybe she fits with that description. If you know what an unreliable narrator is, and want to let me know, my comments are open. Thank you!

My Overall Feelings

I wanted to smack Naomi around a couple of times. Her lack of boundaries regarding her patients was seriously disturbing. She was a therapist who dealt with domestic violence, and when her male patient was trying to leave the wife who was beating him, she moved him into a flat she and her husband owned together, against her husband’s advice. I may not have liked him much, but honestly? If I had a therapist who did that, it would feel like a huge breach of trust. Not to mention, a MASSIVE conflict of interest, since she wasn’t just letting him stay there, she was RENTING it to him. The many times she got too involved in her patients’ lives was part of the intrigue of the book, so I understood why she did it, but at the same time? I’ve worked in mental health for a long time, and there’s no way I’d ever do, even as an admin, what this woman did as a therapist. It was crazy.

Characters

We all know, characters are SUPER important to the story. Without them, you might as well be reading a text bo…. wait, even those have characters! So, yeah, super important. Naomi was irritating, but she did make for an intriguing pro/antagonist. I never quite figured out which one she was. She seemed professional with most of her clients, but there were two she dealt with most in the book, and I didn’t trust either of them. I never really trusted her, either. The one character I trusted at all ended up being my least favorite character. I’ll talk about him in a minute.

The Big Takeaway

DON’T GET TOO INVOLVED IN YOUR PATIENTS’ LIVES. Seriously. There’s a reason that America has HIPAA laws, and I’m sure other countries have laws that are similar. Getting involved in the personal lives of your patients is so frowned upon it’s not even funny. I know I’ve talked about working in mental health for a long time, and I may have talked about some personal things with clients, but one: I’m not a therapist, and two: I was still really careful not to share too much. There are certain things that keep a relationship professional. One is boundaries, and Naomi has terrible boundaries. So, the big takeaway? Create healthy boundaries, no matter who you are, and hold them dear.

My Least Favorite Character

My least favorite character ended up being the one I trusted the most. Remember earlier? Yeah, that guy. Naomi’s husband tried desperately to keep Naomi from getting too personal with her patients. The thing that made me dislike him was how he treated Naomi when she refused to stop. She was going behind his back, yeah, and did I approve of what she was doing? Absolutely not. But he also became borderline abusive in his quest to get Naomi to learn a lesson. For that reason, he became my least favorite character.

The Other POV?

I would have loved to see the other side of the story from Leon. He’s Naomi’s husband, and it would have been interesting to see his part of trying to get Naomi to learn better boundaries, and maybe even see some internal dialogue that showed his motivations behind why he was so horrible to her. I’m not condoning abuse in any form, but at the same time, those motivations would have interested me to read.

Surprise Ending vs. Predictable?

I did actually get some surprises at the end, but not in the way you think, so I swear I didn’t give anything away. I actually loved the end, because it wasn’t what I expected. I wish more authors would end books like this one. Just not all of them, because I’m not sure I could take it. But, several books a year with this type of ending? I could be down with that.

Recommendation

Do you like psychological thrillers? Do you like not really knowing what’s going on, with only getting a few answers at the end? If you like books or movies that focus on the journey, rather than the destination, you’ll love this book. I might have never found the book purely predictable, but nor did I find it purely surprising. I didn’t feel entirely satisfied, but I think that was the point. If you like books like that, The Blame Game is for you. I do hope you’ll check it out, because it’s worth at least one read. After that, unfortunately, you’ll know too much and the surprises and twists won’t get ya as well as they would normally. Unlike my experience with Zumbo’s Just Desserts Season One on Netflix, one read of The Blame Game is Enough.

If you’re curious about my reference above, Zumbo’s Just Desserts is a reality baking show on Netflix, and despite my knowing who wins, I’ve watched season one at least 3 times. The journey of baking and the creativeness of the contestants was so amazing.

Conclusion

I hope you enjoyed my review of The Blame Game by Sandie Jones! If you have any thoughts on the review or the book, please leave a comment! I love comments, and reply to every one. I like to tell people that comments to me are like reviews to authors. I don’t think I could ever have too many! If you know someone who would like this book, please share this review with them!

Until Next Time, Friends!

 

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