Breaking Amends: No forgiving. No forgetting. (Darke Deeds Mystery Thrillers Book 2)

review
⭐️⭐️⭐️
Breaking Amends by Lisa Sell

First things first: thank you, Lisa Sell, for trusting me with this copy. Genuinely. I don’t take that lightly. Being invited into someone’s work—especially work this emotionally messy and psychologically loaded—feels a bit like being handed the spare key to a house where everyone is fighting, lying, and hiding bodies in the emotional basement. An honor. Truly.

Diving into Breaking Amends felt like being shoved straight into a family reunion I didn’t ask for—one of those where everyone is either related by blood or trauma, and you’re not sure which is worse. Having read Darke Deeds (part one) definitely helped. Not required, but highly recommended unless you enjoy confusion as a lifestyle choice.

Now. The chaos.
Confusing at times? Yes. Overstimulating? Also yes. Weirdly comforting? Absolutely. Like familiar dysfunction wrapped in a mystery blanket. That said, I’ll be honest (because that’s what we’re doing here): the start was slow for me. And I am not built for slow starts. My attention span has the durability of a mentally challenged sloth on melatonin. That’s not Lisa’s fault—that’s a me problem.

The first few chapters required some pushing through. Mild internal sighing. Occasional dramatic eye contact with the book. But I trusted the process, because Darke Deeds taught me that Lisa Sell does not waste your time in the long run. And surprise: I was right.

Once it grabbed me, it did not let go. My inner, slightly unhinged investigator climbed onto her high horse immediately—and oh, the satisfaction when I was right. Delicious. Did you feel it too? That gut feeling? The quiet “oh… it’s that” moment settling into your bones?

What really got me, though, were the underlying themes. The emotional rot beneath the mystery. The desperation. The longing. That deep, aching need to be wanted—to be loved in a very specific way—and the damage people are willing to cause to fill that void. The lies we tell ourselves. The entitlement we build around our pain. The way we justify destruction because something inside us feels missing.

How far would you go to get what you think you deserve?
And how far would you go to make amends once you realize the cost?

If you’re into family-centered mysteries laced with psychological mind games and emotional wreckage, this is absolutely your book. It’s the kind of story that makes you want to start your own true-crime podcast. You know. Casually. Ignoring the fact that doing so would probably get you murdered.

I’m giving this three shiny, mysterious stars—not because it isn’t good, but because slow starts and I are mortal enemies. The ending, however, landed strong and made the journey worth it. Personally, my dark and twisted brain could’ve used a bit more time inside the head of the person who did it—but that’s just me being greedy for chaos.

I have no doubt this will be a perfect read for people with a more stable mind than mine.

Read it. Enjoy it.
And Merry Christmas—because nothing says festive like family trauma and psychological unraveling.