Let me kill this book where it stands, finally. Let me tell you of a book that only knows hate and abuse and plot points so clearly made up on the spot the full plot summary is going to sound like gibberish. Never read Hush, Hush, but let me explain to you why. And with the last page, the last lines, that freeing end, I felt a great weight lift off me. Finale I had to slam down fast lest I never see it done. The full quartet of Hush, Hush took me four years to get through for a reason. I’m a fast reader, but I get stopped often by life. There is no honour even to shamefully like it.

You’re not to blame, but you have to let Hush, Hush go. But when people say they like Hush, Hush, that it is still their favourite even in a guilty way, I cannot grasp that. There’s merit to trash, if you read it lightly and don’t let the vile bits seep. When people say Sweet Evil is a guilty pleasure, I understand. When people say they liked Fallen, I kinda get it. It is the worst of this era, every problem from every other book condensed into far too long tomes of disgusting nonsense. When I say Hush is the worst of them, I mean it.

I know my bad books, and I know my angel para-ro from the 2010s.

I hate how it someone, apparently, came back thanks to TikTok. I hate how poorly the quartet’s names fit together- Hush, Hush, Crescendo, Silence, Finale. I hate how I need to put a comma in that title.

Hush hush book