Take a photo of a barcode or cover
kitandquill 's review for:
The Quarry Girls
by Jess Lourey
The Quarry Girls is the kind of thriller that gets under your skin and stays there. It’s set in one of those small towns where everyone knows everything but pretends they don’t. You know the type—God-fearing Christians who care more about maintaining the facade than addressing the rot in their own backyard. When Heather’s best friend Maureen goes missing, it cracks open the carefully polished surface of her world, and what spills out is ugly.
This isn’t just a story about a missing girl. It’s about a culture that lets predators thrive while silencing anyone who dares to call them out. Heather starts off trying to be the perfect daughter—cooking dinner every night, parenting her little sister Junie, and bending over backward to make her dad comfortable, even though he does the bare minimum. Her mom is so fragile she can’t even protect herself, let alone Heather or Junie, and the town’s big, heroic men?
Heather realizes the people she’s been taught to trust are the ones she should fear the most.
Lourey nails the suffocating vibe of this town—like everyone’s walking on eggshells, pretending they don’t know about the tunnels under their feet or the “family friend” all the women are warned about. But the moment someone calls it out, the town doesn’t get mad at the monster; they get mad at the person who exposed him. It’s infuriating, and Lourey leans into that discomfort in a way that makes you want to throw the book across the room (in a good way).
Heather is everything I want in a protagonist. She’s strong and brave, but not in some unrealistic, girlboss way. She’s just a kid trying to protect herself and her sister while the world demands she grow up too fast. She’s torn between wanting to call out the shady behavior of her friends and clinging to that Midwest conditioning that tells her to stay polite, even when politeness is the last thing anyone deserves.
The pacing starts off slow, but that only makes the payoff sweeter. It lulls you into the rhythm of the town’s denial before hitting you with twist after twist. Lourey’s writing is so good it hurts. She makes you care deeply, even about the characters you don’t want to care about, like Heather’s mom. By the end, you’re left furious at the system but rooting for Heather to break free of it.
Here’s the thing: this book isn’t just a thriller; it’s a reflection of the real world, and it doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable truths. Stop forcing girls to grow up too quickly. Teach them how to protect themselves without blaming them for needing protection in the first place. And for the love of all things holy, hold men accountable instead of punishing the people who expose them.
I loved this book. Heather’s story is raw, infuriating, and unforgettable. Jess Lourey doesn’t just tell a good story—she cracks it open and shows you the ugliness inside. Read it, and don’t look away.Jess Lourey writes with sharpness and empathy, making you care about every character and feel every moment of the story.
I loved this book. It’s gripping, powerful, and leaves you thinking long after the final page.
This isn’t just a story about a missing girl. It’s about a culture that lets predators thrive while silencing anyone who dares to call them out. Heather starts off trying to be the perfect daughter—cooking dinner every night, parenting her little sister Junie, and bending over backward to make her dad comfortable, even though he does the bare minimum. Her mom is so fragile she can’t even protect herself, let alone Heather or Junie, and the town’s big, heroic men?
Heather realizes the people she’s been taught to trust are the ones she should fear the most.
Lourey nails the suffocating vibe of this town—like everyone’s walking on eggshells, pretending they don’t know about the tunnels under their feet or the “family friend” all the women are warned about. But the moment someone calls it out, the town doesn’t get mad at the monster; they get mad at the person who exposed him. It’s infuriating, and Lourey leans into that discomfort in a way that makes you want to throw the book across the room (in a good way).
Heather is everything I want in a protagonist. She’s strong and brave, but not in some unrealistic, girlboss way. She’s just a kid trying to protect herself and her sister while the world demands she grow up too fast. She’s torn between wanting to call out the shady behavior of her friends and clinging to that Midwest conditioning that tells her to stay polite, even when politeness is the last thing anyone deserves.
The pacing starts off slow, but that only makes the payoff sweeter. It lulls you into the rhythm of the town’s denial before hitting you with twist after twist. Lourey’s writing is so good it hurts. She makes you care deeply, even about the characters you don’t want to care about, like Heather’s mom. By the end, you’re left furious at the system but rooting for Heather to break free of it.
Here’s the thing: this book isn’t just a thriller; it’s a reflection of the real world, and it doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable truths. Stop forcing girls to grow up too quickly. Teach them how to protect themselves without blaming them for needing protection in the first place. And for the love of all things holy, hold men accountable instead of punishing the people who expose them.
I loved this book. Heather’s story is raw, infuriating, and unforgettable. Jess Lourey doesn’t just tell a good story—she cracks it open and shows you the ugliness inside. Read it, and don’t look away.Jess Lourey writes with sharpness and empathy, making you care about every character and feel every moment of the story.
I loved this book. It’s gripping, powerful, and leaves you thinking long after the final page.