- Publisher: Berkley Publishing Group
- Publication Date: September 14, 2021
- Author: Amanda Jayatissa
- Genre: Mystery & Thrillers
- Page Count: 384
Early Praise
“Like nothing else I’ve read. Set in San Francisco and Sri Lanka, this is a story about friendship, lies, and guilt. A stunning and original must-read?” — Samantha Downing, author of My Lovely Wife
“A delicious, twisty, fast-paced thriller with the perfect hint of ghost story.” — Michele Campbell, author of It’s Always the Husband
“Ridiculously good. Crazy good. Scary good.” — Hand Phillippi Ryan, USA Today bestselling author of The First to Lie
“Equal parts witty, chilling, and hypnotic, and it includes some of the creepiest lines and images I’ve ever read.” — Megan Collins, author of The Winter Sister
Description and Review
After being adopted by an American family, Paloma had it all — financially stable parents, good schools, and money. It was Paloma’s dream come true.
Now thirty years old, Paloma can no longer depend on funding from her parents. Living in an overpriced San Francisco apartment, Paloma desperately needed money to continue living the lifestyle that she carved out for herself. So, Paloma resorts to subletting her apartment to an undocumented Sri Lankan, Arun.
Everything as going seemingly well with Arun. Paloma felt good about the arrangement until Arun discovers a secret that Paloma has been hiding all these years. A secret that could destroy everything that Paloma has worked for. Knowing that Paloma would do anything to keep her secret hidden, Arun commences to blackmail Paloma, draining her bank accounts.
In a last-ditch effort to end the blackmails, Paloma resolves to negotiate a deal with Arun. But before anything is set in motion, Paloma discovers Arun’s lifeless body hunched over the kitchen table in a pool of blood. Police are called to the scene. But upon investigation, Arun’s body is nowhere to be found and the apartment is spotless. It’s as if Arun never existed. Is it possible that Paloma dreamt the whole thing up? What is the secret that Paloma is hiding?
My Sweet Girl is a slow burn suspense novel. The pace is atmospheric with little nuggets of edginess. The storyline follows a first-person account that spans past and present between Sri Lanka and San Francisco. The novel contains an easy to follow narrative. However, it is somewhat of a tedious grind. But, if one is willing to invest the time and endure the hills and valleys of this novel, they will be rewarded with an unexpected ending. Four stars.
I received a digital ARC from Berkley Publishing Group through NetGalley. The review herein is completely my own and contains my honest thoughts and opinions.
Read an Excerpt
MY SWEET GIRL by Amanda Jayatissa
Berkley Hardcover | On Sale September 14, 2021
Excerpt
Ratmalana, Sri Lanka
2002
The shadows from the torch Maya held under her chin made her smile look evil, like the devil mask hung in the assembly hall to ward off the evil eye.
We were all too excited to sleep, so Maya called all the girls to her bunk to tell us ghost stories. I didn’t really want to listen. I’m too old to believe in ghosts. But I didn’t want to be the only one in bed when everyone else was all the way on the other side of the dormitory.
Lihini grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I gave it a squeeze back. She loved ghost stories, which I didn’t really understand. Why would anyone want to be afraid on purpose?
“Relax, Paloma,” she mouthed. I usually got annoyed when people told me to relax. Like saying the words was enough to make me forget what was upsetting me in the first place. As though ghosts and demons would just go away if we simply relaxed. But Lihini was my best friend. I could never get angry with her. I scooted a little closer to her on the floor. There was no such thing as ghosts. It just made me feel safe to be near her.
Maya needed to hurry up. If we got caught out of our beds, we would definitely be scolded. Maybe even punished. They might even cancel the visit tomorrow.
I took a deep breath and shook my head. They would never do that. We hadn’t gotten many visitors to the orphanage in a few months now. Tomorrow was important. Everyone told us so-our headmaster Perera sir, Miss Chandra, even Miss Sarah, our English teacher. We were to be on our best behaviour and make sure we knew exactly what we were supposed to do or say. Miss Chandra supervised the rehearsal today. Everything had to be perfect, and we were so excited that none of us could sleep.
Of course Maya would decide this was the best time to make it all about her. Sometimes I wondered if she even wanted to be adopted. She needed to be more responsible than this. She was twelve now, same as me. It’s not like we were little children anymore.
“She walks slowly. Her feet are bare and dirty and covered in scratches. She wears a long, white dress.” Maya purposely made her voice into a throaty whisper so every one of us leaned forward, barely breathing.
I knew this story. Vana-Mohini, or Mohini, as we call it. We’ve all heard it a million times. We’ve all told it a million times. But I still held tight to Maya’s words.
“There’s blood under her nails, and they are long and sharp, like talons.” She made a sudden clawing motion, and Lihini leaped back, her hands over her mouth.
We all giggled nervously.
“And her long, black hair hangs over her face, like this.” The torch flickered as Maya messed her hair over her face so just her eyes glinted through in the dim yellow light.
“Mohini walks only in the night, revealing herself to people who are all by themselves. Help me. Help me, she begs.” Maya made her voice high and raspy now, like when the chalk slips when you’re writing on a blackboard.
“Some people say Mohini’s eyes are red. Red as blood. And when you look into them, you can see straight into hell. And if you stop to help her, she smiles, and before you know it-“
Maya dropped the torch and lunged forward, wrapping her hands around Lihini’s throat. Lihini couldn’t help it this time. Her small scream rang like an alarm through the dormitory.
I pulled Lihini away from Maya and put my arms around her. If I could have slapped Maya, I definitely would, but there wasn’t time.
“Haiyyo! Quickly, everyone, to bed before we get caught,” I hissed, getting Lihini to her feet and pushing her into her bunk.
Thankfully, the other girls followed.
We all lay very, very still for a few minutes. I could hear nervous panting echoing through the dormitory. Maya really did give everyone a shock. But thankfully none of the matrons came.
What on earth was she thinking? Getting us into trouble the night before Mr. and Mrs. Evans got here. Those were their names. Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Perera sir told us so we could memorise them. Evans-like when Miss Sarah told us about Mary Ann Evans, who went by George Eliot, who wrote The Mill on the Floss. I suppose I could understand why you would want to pretend to be someone else. But I could never, ever understand why someone wouldn’t want to go by the name Evans. It was beautiful.
I whispered it out loud.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans. I hoped they liked us. And me. I really hoped they liked me.
About the Author
Amanda Jayatissa grew up in Sri Lanka, completed her undergrad at Mills College, CA, and lived in the UK before moving mack to her sunny little island. She works as a corporate trainer, owns a chain of cookie store, and is a proud dog-mum to her two spoiled huskies.
