Such an unpretty story. 
 Want a book with a horrid topic? Filled with terror? Despair? Betrayal? 
 Stand aside Horror authors and make room for a different kind of fear. 
 The kind that chills and fascinates; moreover the kind that for some, occurs in everyday life. 
 Did I say fascinate? 
 Yes, I suppose I did. We have to admit to the fascination or why else would we want to read about it? 
 It's a weird thing when I can soar through books like this yet take months reading genuine classics. 
 It's not something I'd readily admit to just anyone for fear that my interest in this topic will be taken the wrong way. 
 Somehow though, authors of books like this make me realise that there must be others just like me. Like I said, why else would we read stories like this one and moreover why else would anyone write them? 
 The answer is the tale. In every victim's sad and tragic story there is a fighter waiting to stand their ground; a predator dodging bad karma. This story delivers that in Meredith's clear voice. Her struggle, her ways of coping - it is all very real - and her triumph in the end, though bittersweet for having to endure the pain before that, is nonetheless a victory. 
 For all the intrigue and fascination and background psychology that this story - and others like it - may hold, I think I might just be a sucker for a good (read: happy) ending as much as anyone else.