Don’t trust him. It wasn’t me. It couldn’t have been me.
Meet Evie, a young woman who has fled with her uncle to the isolated New Zealand beach town of Maketu. Jim says he’s hiding her to protect her, that she did something terrible back home in Melbourne. Something Evie can’t remember.
But Evie isn’t her real name. And Jim isn’t really her uncle.
In a house that creaks against the wind, Evie pieces together the events that led her here. And as her memories return, she starts to wonder if Jim is really her saviour . . . or her captor.
Call Me Evie is definitely one of my favourite psychological thrillers of the last couple of years – I devoured it, the sense of place is stunning, the whole thing descriptively beautiful and the central story utterly compelling.
It sounds like a tale you’ve read before and it does have a familiar central theme, especially if like me you read widely in this genre. However Call Me Evie stood out for me, not only because of it’s brilliantly insightful characterisation but because the plotting was taut and unpredictable with an edgy, ever growing sense of unease.
Exploring memory and trauma, the lies we tell ourselves and each other, the ties that bind family and friends, Call Me Evie is a taut, genuinely fascinating piece of storytelling that will linger long after you’ve turned the final page and the whole truth is revealed.