Judith Gould
Ariadne and Nikoletta are beautiful identical twins—but opposite in every way. Groomed to take over her father's empire, Nikoletta will go to any lengths to get what she wants. Araidne, raised in obscurity and unaware of her vast family fortune, is generous and naïve. But when she agrees to a shady scheme—orchestrated by her late father's board of advisors—to take the place of the twin she has never even met, she becomes embroiled in a web of passion, deception, and untold danger.
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In a nutshell
The Secret Heiress is like Gossip Girl for the big kids. It’s filled with the same debauchery, drugs, alcohol and backstabbing, but filtered through a plot that is far more mature. One theme stands decisively clear throughout: exploring the issue of whether upbringing has impact on a person’s character.
This is demonstrated through the characters of Greek heiresses Ariadne and Nikoletta, twins raised apart that are as opposite as two sides of a coin. Ariadne is thoughtful, intelligent, modest and selfless. Nikoletta is a one woman army with an arsenal of selfishness, vanity and maliciousness. When Nikoletta’s board of advisors devise a plan to overthrow the spoiled brat poisoning her father’s company, they bring in the last resort few people were aware of—her twin sister. Ariadne, who is unaware of her heritage, undergoes intense training in order to successfully emulate her sister, so she can take over the company.
Throw in a few assassination attempts by a vigilante environmentalist group, a romantic subplot with a bodyguard, and a scaffold of social politics and you have a novel bubbling with intrigue.
What’s right with it?
Shock. The novel caught me by surprise at quite a few moments—whether it be sudden changes in pace, new revelations, or acts of violence, the surprises and shocks keep coming. The ending, especially, took me off-guard with its spectacular execution. I also found that even amongst all of the deliciously sinful behaviour, morality was questioned often. The consequences and repercussions of every decision were implemented upon—for good and bad—and the dilemmas of the good-natured Ariadne are almost as painful for the reader as they are for the character. Amongst it all, the glamour is maximised and the cattiness is in full-force. Don't say I didn't warn you.
The Secret Heiress is like Gossip Girl for the big kids. It’s filled with the same debauchery, drugs, alcohol and backstabbing, but filtered through a plot that is far more mature. One theme stands decisively clear throughout: exploring the issue of whether upbringing has impact on a person’s character.
This is demonstrated through the characters of Greek heiresses Ariadne and Nikoletta, twins raised apart that are as opposite as two sides of a coin. Ariadne is thoughtful, intelligent, modest and selfless. Nikoletta is a one woman army with an arsenal of selfishness, vanity and maliciousness. When Nikoletta’s board of advisors devise a plan to overthrow the spoiled brat poisoning her father’s company, they bring in the last resort few people were aware of—her twin sister. Ariadne, who is unaware of her heritage, undergoes intense training in order to successfully emulate her sister, so she can take over the company.
Throw in a few assassination attempts by a vigilante environmentalist group, a romantic subplot with a bodyguard, and a scaffold of social politics and you have a novel bubbling with intrigue.
What’s right with it?
Shock. The novel caught me by surprise at quite a few moments—whether it be sudden changes in pace, new revelations, or acts of violence, the surprises and shocks keep coming. The ending, especially, took me off-guard with its spectacular execution. I also found that even amongst all of the deliciously sinful behaviour, morality was questioned often. The consequences and repercussions of every decision were implemented upon—for good and bad—and the dilemmas of the good-natured Ariadne are almost as painful for the reader as they are for the character. Amongst it all, the glamour is maximised and the cattiness is in full-force. Don't say I didn't warn you.
What’s wrong with it?
In her effort to polarise Ariadne and her twin sister, Gould created an extremely unlikable character in the form of Nikoletta. Her selfish actions earned nothing but a snort of derision from me everytime she executed one of her schemes; I began disregarding her as a character, not really caring about her side of the story at all. In comparison with her twin sister, Nikoletta herself has absolutely no redeeming qualities. I found this to be a little unrealistic, even if it was necessary.
In her effort to polarise Ariadne and her twin sister, Gould created an extremely unlikable character in the form of Nikoletta. Her selfish actions earned nothing but a snort of derision from me everytime she executed one of her schemes; I began disregarding her as a character, not really caring about her side of the story at all. In comparison with her twin sister, Nikoletta herself has absolutely no redeeming qualities. I found this to be a little unrealistic, even if it was necessary.
Last Word
A fast-paced, multi-faceted novel that deals with many themes, which has twice as much brain as the reader is first led to believe. The web of deception is only equalled by the precarious social politics of the characters. The makings of a Greek Tragedy, you say? The answer to that is so absolute the line is even uttered by one of the characters.
Scale-of-awesomeness
Not too shabby
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