Count My Lies Review: She's Genuinely Insane, Actually

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What if the woman lying her way into your life…isn’t even the scariest one in the room? I went into Count My Lies by Sophie Stava expecting a slow burn suspense thriller and a compulsive liar I’d love to hate.

I got that.

I also got two of the most genuinely unhinged women I’ve read in a long, long time—and a book that I almost DNF’d before it broke me open at exactly 52%.

I have so much to say, and I don’t know where to start.

Title: Count My Lies

Author: Sophie Stava

Publisher: Gallery/Scout Press

Format: Physical ARC

Genre: Thriller, Mystery

Release Date: March 4, 2025

Pages: 336

Star Rating: 4 stars (it earned them…eventually)

Spice Rating: 0 chili peppers

Sloane Caraway is a Compulsive Liar

Here’s the thing. Sloane is a liar.

But not the kind of liar you walk into a thriller novel expecting. Not yet, anyway.

Her lies start small. Soft. Almost…sad.

She lies because she’s lonely. She lies because her real life feels like nothing. She lies because when she tells someone she’s a nurse—or a person with knowing—they look at her differently.

And for one second, she gets to be that person.

I almost felt bad for her.

Almost.

Because the thing about Sloane is that she doesn’t just lie to other people, she lies to herself. She’s convinced herself the lies are the truth. And that? That’s where the sad-girl loneliness curdles into something much, much darker.

Then she’s Just Genuinely Insane

Listen.

I’m going to be honest with you, the way I’m always honest with you.

Sloane is unhinged. She’s downright fucking nuts.

I’m talking—buying the same clothes Violet wears and imagining herself in Violet’s bed with Violet’s husband, Jay, imagining herself as Harper’s mother. Slowly, systematically, rationalizing, becoming Violet.

I was internally cringing.

I was reading with my whole face scrunched up like 😬.

This is not a person having a bad week. This is not a girl with a crush. This is psycho behavior. There is no other explanation. She is mentally unwell, and I am creeped out.

And then Sophie Stava switches POVs to Violet.

And you realize…

…they’re both genuinely insane.

A match made in heaven, truly.

A Slow Burn Suspense Thriller (Stay Unitl 52%)

Okay. Real Talk. The first half of this book is slow. Too slow.

Like, I was bored.

I had questions, and Sophie was holding the answers hostage. Why did Allison react that way when she saw Sloane? What did Sloane do to her? What did Allison take? What is Sloane’s actual end goal here? Is she trying to step into Violet’s life and rub her out?

I need to know. I was bored. Both at once.

The pacing drags because the exposition is doing a LOT of foundational work. Laying down every brick of Sloane’s psyche so the back half can land its hits. I get it now. In hindsight.

But while I was in it?

I was annoyed.

If you’re reading this and you’ve hit the 30% mark and you’re wondering if it’s worth it, stay until 52%.

That’s where Violet’s POV kicks in. That’s where this book becomes a thriller.

Violet Lockhart’s POV Saves This Book

I’m just going to say it. Violet’s POV is the strongest writing in the entire novel.

The prose becomes fluid. The pacing tightens. The pages start flipping themselves. Everything that felt clunky and debut-y in the first half smooths out into something genuinely propulsive.

And Violet? Violet has reasons.

I won’t spoil it, but as a woman, as a mother (or someone who can imagine being one), I understood her. She’s trapped. If she divorces Jay, he takes everything. Including Harper. And as a mother, that’s unfathomable. There is no version of that future she can live with.

So she does what she has to do.

The fact that what she “has to do” involves Sloane —a woman trying to become her— is the kind of dark, perfect, twisted symmetry that I live for in a thriller.

Two unhinged women in a trench coat. A match made in heaven. Etc.

Three Voices, Three Distinct Sounds

You get three points of view in Count My Lies:

Sloane
Violet
Jay

And here’s where I have to give Sophie Stava her flowers. Every single POV has a distinct voice. Even when Sloane is actively trying to merge into Violet, even when their stories start to braid together, you can tell who is talking. They sound different. They think differently.

That’s hard to do.

A lot of multiple POV thrillers blur together until every character sounds like the author with a different name slapped on top.

This one doesn’t.

Violet is the strongest, like I said.

But all three voices hold.

The Twists I Didn’t See Coming (No Spoilers)

I gasped.

Out loud.

Twice.

I’m not going to spoil anything—you know I won’t do you like that—but I will say this: the twists in Count My Lies are plotted. Not a plot device. Not pulled from thin air to manufacture a “gotcha.” They land because the foundation was laid (slowly, painfully, in the draggy first half) for them to land.

That’s why the slow burn matters.

That’s why I’m telling you to stay.

What Didn’t Work for Me

I have to be honest. The Taylor Swift references.

There were so many. Too many. It started to feel less like character texture and more like a Spotify Wrapped wedged into a thriller novel. We could’ve cut half of them, and the book would’ve been stronger for it.

Also, (and this is small) the writing in the very first chapters reads a little debut-y. A little stiff. A little trying. It smooths out as the book goes on, and by the second half, it’s gorgeous, but the opening took me a minute to settle into.

And Sloane’s lies, at times, feel pointless. I’ll cop to a personal bias here. I’ve never been a liar. I genuinely don’t care what people think of me. So watching Sloane spin elaborate fictions to impress strangers I’ll never see again felt…empty? But I also recognize that’s the point. Her lies ARE pointless. That’s the tragedy.

Gone Girl Vibes & Unreliable Narrator Thriller Energy

It’s been a minute since I read Gone Girl—but Count My Lies gives those exact vibes.

Two women.

A marriage rotting from the inside.

An unreliable narrator (or two).

A slow build into something nasty and brilliant.

If you’re one of the millions of us still chasing the high of Gone Girl, yeah. This one’s for you.

Read If You Like:

Unreliable narrator thrillers 🖤
Domestic suspense and rotting marriages
Multiple POV/dual POV thrillers
Unhinged women doing unhinged things
If you like Lisa Jewell, Lucy Foley, and Laura Dave novels
Gone Girl coded slow burns
A twist you don’t see coming
Books where you’re not sure who to root for (or if you should be rooting at all)

Not For You If:

You need a thriller that hits the ground running
You don’t have patience for a slow first half
You hate compulsive liar narrators
Taylor Swift references make you twitch
You need a clear “good guy” to root for
Pointless lies frustrate you on a soul level

Count My Lies by Sophie Stava is a slow burn suspense thriller that earns its ending even if it makes you work for it.

Sloane is genuinely insane.

Violet is genuinely insane

And somehow, in their absolute mutual unhinged-ness, they made me care.

Stay until 52%.

Trust me. 🖤

Get Your Copy 📖

Look, if you’ve made it this far in the review, you already know you’re going to read it. Stop pretending. Go grab Count My Lies before someone spoils the twists for you on TikTok.

Shop indie. Always. Your local indie bookstore or Bookshop.org gets your money instead of the shop that must not be named, and you get to be the friend who tells everyone “stay until 52%” first.

Buy Count My Lies on Bookshop.org →

Still chasing that Gone Girl high? On the fence about Count My Lies? Tell me what’s holding you back, or drop your favorite thriller recs in the comments. I need them 🖤📖♾️

Dedicated to every reader who almost DNF’d a book and stayed anyway. Sometimes the slow burn is the whole point.