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239 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published October 3, 2006
-and Dad, who was glowering at Shane in the background, was as tall and twice as broad. “Is it him?” Dad asked. “Did he get you into trouble?”
“Not me,” Shane said. “I’ve just got that kind of face.”
She didn’t look up.
He came a step closer, and his bare feet and sweatpants came into her vision. “Claire. You’ve got to promise me.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I’m not some little kid. And I’m not your sister.”
He laughed, low in his throat. “Oh, yeah. That, I know. But I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“You’re just a walking organ donor. So take my advice, Claire. Don’t get in my face, because if you do, you won’t have one for long. Are we clear?”
Claire nodded slowly. “We’re clear,” she said. “You’re kind of a psycho. I get that.”
“I might be,” Monica agreed, and gave her a slow, strange smile. “You’re one smart little freak. Now run away, smart little freak, before I change my mind and stick you in one of these old suitcases for some architect to find a hundred years from now.”
Claire blinked. “Archaeologist.”
Monica’s eyes turned winter cold. “Oh, you’d better start running away now.”
“You know," Shane said twenty minutes later, "I'd feel a whole lot better about the two of us if you didn't think I was the go-to guy for breaking and entering.”After seeing the news yesterday that Rachel Caine had passed away, I couldn’t shake the uncontrollable urge to pick up Glass Houses, which is the book that convinced 11-year-old Maya that reading is one of the greatest joys in life. Whilst I know this isn’t the best book in the entire world (and, be warned, it’s mostly nostalgia fuelling this entire review), it is the one that fundamentally changed me as a human being, and because of that, I have nothing but pure, unadulterated love for it.
“On the day Claire became a member of the Glass House, somebody stole her laundry.”The second I read that opening line — that silly, innocuous sentence — I felt like someone had draped a warm blanket around my shoulders. I’d fallen back in time, and it was comforting, and familiar, and bright. I imagined every scene the same way I did all those years ago, and I honestly felt like I was greeting old friends and nemeses. It was exhilarating, and even though I knew what was going to happen, I still felt my heart trying to claw its way up my throat a few times. Re-reading books is something I do so rarely, but I had such a fun time re-living all those moments I loved as a pre-teen, and I wished I’d picked this book up again early, under less distressing circumstances.