As Good as Dead: The Finale to A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

As Good as Dead: The Finale to A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

THE MUST-READ MULTIMILLION BESTSELLING MYSTERY SERIES — A GOOD GIRL'S GUIDE TO MURDER NOW ON NETFLIX! • The final book in the series that reads like your favorite true crime podcast or show. By the end, you'll never think of good girls the same way again... Pip is about to head to college, but she is still haunted by the way her last investigation ended. She’s used to online death threats in the wake of her viral true-crime podcast, but she can’t help noticing an anonymous person who keeps asking her: Who will look for you when you’re the one who disappears? Soon the threats escalate and Pip realizes that someone is following her in real life. When she starts to find connections between her stalker and a local serial killer caught six years ago, she wonders if maybe the wrong man is behind bars. Police refuse to act, so Pip has only one choice: find the suspect herself—or be the next victim. As the deadly game plays out, Pip discovers that everything in her small town is coming full circle . . .and if she doesn’t find the answers, this time she will be the one who disappears. . . Look for the whole series: A GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO MURDER • GOOD GIRL, BAD BLOOD • AS GOOD AS DEAD Praise for worldwide sensation Holly Jackson: “This truly unique premise snowballs into a roller coaster ride of page-turning suspense and knock-out twists !” —Freida McFadden, author of The Housemaid on Not Quite Dead Yet “A masterclass in thriller writing and an example of storytelling at its finest.” —Alex Michaelides, author of The Silent Patient on Not Quite Dead Yet “A thrilling, twisting, heartbreaker .” —Chris Whitaker, author of All the Colors of the Dark on Not Quite Dead Yet “The popular YA mystery-thriller series.” — Teen Vogue on A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder “[A] BookTok sensation .” — Seventeen on A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder “Weaves true crime with a twisty murder mystery.”— People on The Reappearance of Rachel Price “A story that will leave you guessing until the very end.” —Book of the Month on The Reappearance of Rachel Price “Another unputdownable thriller.” — E! News on Five Survive “ Gripping , puzzling, and exciting.” — Forbes on Five Survive Holly Jackson is the author of the #1 New York Times bestselling series A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, an international sensation with millions of copies sold worldwide, as well as the #1 New York Times bestsellers and instant classics Five Survive and The Reappearance of Rachel Price. Her latest thriller is Not Quite Dead Yet: A Novel . She graduated from the University of Nottingham, where she studied literary linguistics and creative writing, with a master’s degree in English. She enjoys playing video games and watching true-crime documentaries so she can pretend to be a detective. She lives in London. One Dead-eyed. That’s what they said, wasn’t it? Lifeless, glassy, empty. Dead eyes were a constant companion now, following her around, never more than a blink away. They hid in the back of her mind and escorted her into her dreams. His dead eyes, the very moment they crossed over from living to not. She saw them in the quickest of glances and the deepest of shadows, and sometimes in the mirror too, wearing her own face.  And Pip saw them right now, staring straight through her. Dead eyes encased in the head of a dead pigeon sprawled on the front drive. Glassy and lifeless, except for the movement of her own reflection within them, bending to her knees and reaching out. Not to touch it, but to get just close enough.  “Ready to go, pickle?” Pip’s dad said behind her. She flinched as he shut the front door with a sharp clack, the sound of a gun hiding in its reverberations. Pip’s other companion.  “Y-yes,” she said, straightening up and straightening out her voice. Breathe, just breathe through it. “Look.” She pointed needlessly. “Dead pigeon.” He bent down for a look, his black skin creasing around his narrowed eyes, and his pristine three-piece suit creasing around his knees. And then the shift into a face she knew too well: he was about to say something witty and ridiculous, like-- “Pigeon pie for dinner?” he said. Yep, right on cue. Almost every other sentence from him was a joke now, like he was working that much harder to make her smile these days. Pip relented and gave him one.  “Only if it comes with a side of mashed rat-ato,” she quipped, finally letting go of the pigeon’s empty gaze, hoisting her bronze backpack onto one shoulder.  “Ha!” He clapped her on the back, beaming. “My morbid daughter.” Another face shift as he realized what he’d said, and all the other meanings that swirled inside those three simple words. Pip couldn’t escape death, even on this bright late-July morning in an unguarded moment with her dad. It seemed to be all she lived for now.  Her dad shook off the awkwardness, only ever a fleeting thing with him, and gestured to the car with his head. “Come on, you can’t be late