People are like those nested Russian dolls. There's always someone else hiding inside the person you think you know, layer after layer, each with the same painted face. I want to open someone up and hold that last solid little doll in my hand. I know all of Allison Avery's disguises, femme fatale, loyal friend, maternal and corrupting sister, virginal obedient daughter, performer, alive with the magic of her own touch. But who was she at the center? I don't know if I believe in the soul. I'm afraid of the darkness I see in all of us, every one of us a mystery. I have looked in the mirror and not been certain that I saw myself.As she picks through the contradictory remains of Allison's existence, however, Olivia falls helplessly under Allison's spell. Her quest to discover the truth behind her death slides into an eerie exercise in doubling, as Olivia begins to mimic the singer in thought, word, and deed. Where will Olivia draw the line between self and subject in her terrifying plunge from distance to immediacy? And will it be the merging, or the separating, that carries the greatest risks?
Body of a Girl is at once atmospheric, erotic, and deeply disturbing. So effective is Leah Stewart at capturing the sultry heat of a Memphis summer that the pages practically sweat. It is well-paced and tautly plotted, visceral and gripping. Stewart has mercilessly sketched the potential emptiness at the core of the self, and in doing so has given psychological suspense fans a name to appreciate now and welcome in the future. --Kelly Flynn
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