Lies Like Poison

Product Information

Killing her would’ve been easy. That spring we made flower garlands. That spring petals were strewn across her kitchen table, where she drank her tea. If we dropped a petal of belladonna, a petal of poppy, and a petal of lily into that cup, we’d never really know which one of us killed her.

Lily is Evelyn's daughter, abused and sent away by her own mother, full of rage and desire to be free and herself, afraid of herself and in her body because of her mother's manipulations and abuses, abandoned by her stepfather and craving her own father's presence, trying to find out who and where he is.

Take a peek inside the pages of this thrilling new YA novel

I . . .” How much should she say? These conversations were probably recorded. But even if they were, they couldn’t be used in a court of law without her permission. Right? You had to agree to be recorded or it was inadmissible. She knew this, because three years earlier, she’d studied her rights. She’d prepared to be arrested after she put her plan into action. But the night before the murder, someone had gotten cold feet. Listen, you don’t know how much this means to me,” Belle began as the officer stepped toward her. He wanted her to hang up the phone. But she needed to say this before she ended the call. “I thought I understood what happened three years ago, but I never asked you—” Everybody knows that in the death of a spouse, the first place to look is at the current husband/wife, any existing lovers, and previous exes. The fact that the police did neither in both cases and went for the immediate arrest of a teenage girl based on a conveniently placed "murder recipe" left at the scene of the crime . . . I mean, you don't get more gullible than that.

I didn’t. I swear. But Edwin was passed out in his bedroom all night, and no one can account for me.”So you could recommend psychiatric help for me, too? Ship me off to a mental hospital on the other side of the country? Ye-yes, she said, managing to stumble over one word. Great. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the conversation. But she could lie about who’d been tangled in her arms that night. She’d gotten very good at keeping secrets. Just… not from the cops. A journey into the dark corners of friendship.” —Mindy McGinnis, author of The Female of the Species The only believable explanation as to why they didn't sit together and chat is because they suspect each other as being the killer and trying to frame one another.

The story follows 4 childhood friends: Poppy, Lily, Belladonna and Raven. But while they all felt like they were the best of friends, it turns out there were secrets upon secrets that only carried over into their present day lives. And when Raven's stepmother ends up dead, a long ago murder pact shines an unfortunate light on the group. I… How much should she say? These conversations were probably recorded. But even if they were, they couldn’t be used in a court of law without her permission. Right? You had to agree to be recorded or it was inadmissible. She knew this, because three years earlier, she’d studied her rights. She’d prepared to be arrested after she put her plan into action. But the night before the murder, someone had gotten cold feet. But the night before the murder, one of us got cold feet and ruined everything. We all had to poison her together. That’s what I thought, the spring we made flower garlands. The spring we spread them out on the table, where she drank her tea. Ye—yes,” she said, managing to stumble over one word. Great. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the conversation. But she could lie about who’d been tangled in her arms that night. She’d done it before. She’d done it a lot. Just . . . not to the cops. And that is exactly the cherry on top. It's one thing to have unreliable narrators because one of them is the secret killer and you're trying to conceal which one it is. It's quite another to have unreliable narrators but none of them is actually responsible for Evelyn's death. I have never been more gaslit in my life.The detective frowned, eyeing the thin slashes that laced their way up her arm. Why didn’t you tell me this before? he asked. Our story opens with a body, that of Raven’s stepmother, being found. She has been poisoned with leaves of belladonna placed in her tea. There’s a recipe, written in fourteen year old Bella’s handwriting, on the table next to her that outlines the perfect poison. It would seem that Bella came good on her vow to protect her best friend Raven from his abusive stepmother.

A nod in the darkness. Then a rustling of clothing as the two of them got dressed. Belle pulled on a soft, fluffy robe. With her hair tousled and her eyeliner smudged, it really would look like she’d woken from a dream. She wasn’t hosting company. Everyone was exactly where they were supposed to be.Wait, what?” Belle’s vision blurred and the officer’s mouth stopped making noise, even though it was moving. “Raven’s stepmother is dead? I thought you were here for—”