Review by Booklist Review
Pochoda's last novel, These Women (2020), explored violence against women; here she delves into violence committed by women. In 2020, during the first days of the COVID-19 pandemic, two female inmates and former cellmates are released early in an attempt to cut down on crowding in prisons. Florida Baum, a white woman who took a plea as an accomplice to arson, and Diosmary Sandoval, a Latina whose act of self-defense led to an assault conviction, are supposed to remain in Arizona while the conditions of their parole are worked out. But when Florida boards a bus for her home in Los Angeles, Diosmary follows, obsessed with getting Florida to admit the true depth of her crime and of her capacity for violence. The women leave a dead body in their wake, putting them on a collision course not only with each other but with a dogged detective haunted by her victimization at the hands of her ex-husband. Visceral descriptions of everything from the proliferation of homeless encampments to the simmering emotions of her characters distinguish Pochoda's latest, intense novel.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
This devastating thriller from Pochoda (These Women) examines the brutal politics inside an Arizona women's penitentiary and the bleak mid-Covid landscape outside it. The first section focuses on three inmates: Kace, who is haunted by voices of the dead; Florida, a wealthy young white woman who was an accessory to murder, driving the getaway car while high; and Dios, Florida's former cellmate, who's determined to make Florida admit she's no better than anyone else in their situation. Due to the strain of the pandemic, Florida and Dios are released from their sentences early and flee parole on a bus to Los Angeles. On the way, the pair makes one bad decision after another, garnering the attention of Lobos, a detective who wrestles with her own guilt and rage after surviving domestic violence; their explosive interplay takes up the back half of the action. In muscular prose, Pochoda plumbs the psychological depths of her fascinating characters and extracts high drama from their shifting allegiances. This searing, accomplished page-turner deserves a wide audience. Agent: Kim Witherspoon, InkWell Management. (May)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
Two women with bad blood between them get out of jail during the pandemic and head for more trouble. Pochoda has carved a place for herself in California noir--and her lockdown Los Angeles is about as noir as it gets, a hellscape overrun by homeless encampments, contagion, and violence. Florence "Florida" Baum and Diana Diosmary "Dios" Sandoval both receive early release from their sentences due to Covid-19. By jailhouse reputation, Florida is a party girl who got in too deep, Dios a ruthless force of nature (though her criminal career began when she was a scholarship student at a fancy New England college). Amid a riot during their incarceration, a woman who was cellmates with each of them at different times was murdered; their shared responsibility for the death has put them at odds. Florida wants nothing to do with Dios; Dios thinks they are bound for life. Shortly after both go on the run from their two-week quarantine, another murder is committed, and soon a female LAPD officer named Lobos is on their trail. The story is laid out in shifting perspectives, with much of the plot conveyed either in awkward dialogue, by a Greek chorus--type character back at the jail, or by clunky internal ruminations. "When do you become the thing you've kept at bay? When do you become the abused or the abuser?…When do you become the person for whom violence is easily within arm's reach?" These questions are very personal to Officer Lobos as she is being stalked by her mentally ill husband, a subplot that is one very heavy cherry on top of this nasty sundae. Lobos is also in a debate with her police partner about just how violent women can be; Pochoda's point seems to be there's no limit. Neither Florida nor Dios feels much like a real person (thank God), and there's little suspense as they move toward their dark outcome, which is immortalized in a mural described in the first pages of the book. Awful people doing awful things in an awful place and time, plus talking ghosts and walking murals. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.