Perfect (Pretty Little Lairs #3):

"Apparently
Aria's platform boots
and grey knitted earflap hat
indicated she was surely up to something
nefarious."

My Rating: 3 1/2 out of 5 stars.
First off; what did Shepard grow up around?! I mean either she's got a morbid bone to pick with her parents or she's read far too many Bronte novels. The parents of these girl are horrid unloving things. Poor Aria's mom can't suck up her feelings long enough to realize she's a mother and oh yeah maybe their dad screwing a teenage girl might be just a little hard on Aria too. But oh its too hard for Ella to look at her, right. 
Spencer's parents; well I won't even get into that social service agents wet dream. I mean seriously who disowns a girl for kissing her sisters boyfriend and then freezes her out while her missing friends body is dug up in front of her eyes. Grimm fairytale here we come young adult readers. Hanna, poor demented Hanna. Grow a pair and drop Mona; she's a hag. Your mother well, she's the least terrifying of mothers; your dad well he's-a-piece-of-shit. Excuse my French. He doesn't want you okay no problem take comfort in the fact that drifting men always wander again. Pretty soon Isabel will be boring and plain, Kate will the selfish Bitch she always is and he'll be onto daughter and wife 3.0. 
Emily, Emily, Emily I feel for you really. A dilemma that big is not something you can actually ignore. Fake being straight to appease that racist cow and continue to live amongst humans and not pigs. Toughie really! Things after this really just start to spiral off the band wagon, my darlings. But no, no more juicy, details from me. However, I can drop a few hints can't I? Just enough to make Ali proud.

WHAT HAPPENED:

Apparently soul mates cant be separated, let's hope a certain someone looks fetching in orange. Besides someone had to get That Scooby sniffer of yours pointed in the right direction or who knows what else you might have dug up. Secrets are better left to capable and experienced hands wouldn't you say? Wouldn't want to accuse the wrong killer. 

Oh Hanna you poor (gaining) little cheese addicted thing; didn't I tell you Mona was a hag. Best friends, please Hon you've got bigger SUV's to deal with. And more hurtles than Death himself just to find a suitable guy.

Memories can be telling can't they Spence, best to keep them locked up in that expansive subconscious of yours. You know for plausible deniability. Never know when a pretty lair is going to have to take a polygraph.

Tsk, Tsk Ems don't you know you should never leave your phone anywhere. Texts have a way of popping in at the most inconceivable times. Bright side; apparently occults can't change you. Phew; good to know. 

- A