The Lies I Tell: A Novel

By Julie Clark

THE INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER!

AN AMAZON BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR!

"A mindbender." —Jessica Knoll

"Riveting…a winner." —Laura Dave

"A knockout." —Mary Kubica

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Last Flight comes a twisted con-woman thriller about two women out for revenge—or is it justice?

Two women. Many aliases.

Meg Williams. Maggie Littleton. Melody Wilde. Different names for the same person, depending on the town, depending on the job. She's a con artist who erases herself to become whoever you need her to be—a college student. A life coach. A real estate agent. Nothing about her is real. She slides alongside you and tells you exactly what you need to hear, and by the time she's done, you've likely lost everything.

Kat Roberts has been waiting ten years for the woman who upended her life to return. And now that she has, Kat is determined to be the one to expose her. But as the two women grow closer, Kat's long-held assumptions begin to crumble, leaving Kat to wonder who Meg's true target is.

The Lies I Tell is a twisted domestic thriller that dives deep into the psyches and motivations of two women and their unwavering quest to seek justice for the past and rewrite the future.

Praise for The Last Flight by Julie Clark:

"Thoroughly absorbing…the characters get under your skin." —The New York Times

"Highly thrilling." —Entertainment Weekly

"You won't be able to put it down." —People.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sourcebooks
• Release date: Jun 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781728247601

Julie Clark

Julie Clark is the New York Times bestselling author of The Lies I Tell and The Last Flight, both of which were also #1 international bestsellers and have been translated into more than twenty-five languages. She lives in Los Angeles with her family and a goldendoodle with poor impulse control.

Book preview

KAT

Present—June

She stands across the room from me, in a small cluster of donors, talking and laughing. A jazz quartet plays in a corner, the bouncing, slipping notes dancing around us, a low undertone of class and money. Meg Williams. I take a sip of wine, savoring the expensive vintage, the weight of the crystal glass, and I watch her. There are few photographs of her in existence—a grainy senior portrait from an old high school yearbook, and another image pulled from a 2009 YMCA staff directory—but I recognized her immediately. My first thought: She’s back. Followed closely by my second: Finally.

As soon as I saw her, I tucked my press credentials into my purse and kept to the perimeter of the room. I’ve been to all of Ron Ashton’s campaign events in the past three months, watching and waiting for Meg to make her appearance—called there by a Google Alert I set ten years ago. After a decade of silence, it pinged in April, with the creation of a new website. Meg Williams, Real Estate Agent. I always knew she’d return. That she’d done so under her real name told me she wasn’t planning to hide.

And yet, when she entered, smiling as she handed over her coat at the door, my sense of equilibrium shifted, launching me into a moment I wasn’t sure would ever arrive. You can prepare yourself for something, imagine it a hundred different ways, and still find yourself breathless when it actually happens.

I spoke to her once, ten years ago, though she wouldn’t have known I was the one who’d answered the phone that day. It was a thirty-second call that changed the trajectory of my life, and to say I hold Meg partially responsible would be an understatement.

Scott, my fiancé, will surely argue that the cost—both financially and emotionally—will be too great. That we can’t afford for me to step away from paying jobs to chase a story that might never happen. That immersing myself in that time, in those events, and in those people, might undo all the work I’ve put into healing. What he doesn’t understand is that this is the story that will finally set me free—not just from the fluff pieces I’m paid pennies per word to write, but from the bigger demons that Meg sent me toward so long ago.

I attach myself to a larger circle of people, and I nod along with their conversation, all the while keeping an eye on her. Watching her mingle and circulate. Watching her watch him. I’ve spent hundreds of hours deconstructing her last few years in Los Angeles, and no matter which way I look at it, Ron Ashton stands at the center. While I don’t know her heart—not yet at least—I do know she isn’t the kind of woman to pass up an opportunity to balance the scales.

She tosses her head back and laughs at something someone says, and as Ron approaches her from behind, I marvel that I get to be here to see this moment. That I’m the only person in the room who knows what’s about to happen.

Well, not the only person. She knows.

I turn slightly so I appear to be looking out a large window, at the sweeping views from downtown to the ocean, and I watch as introductions are made. Witty banter, some laughter. He bends down so he can hear her better, and I wonder how she does it. How she can trick people into believing she is who she says she is, into handing over their deepest desires, opening themselves up to her manipulation and trickery. Offering themselves willingly to her deception.

I watch as a business card is passed and pocketed before looking away, my mind latching on to her entry point. Which will now become mine.

MEG

Present—June

Twenty-Two Weeks before the Election

It starts how it always starts.

With me, quietly slipping alongside you—no sudden moves, no loud fanfare. As if I’ve always been there. Always belonged.

This time, it’s a $10,000-a-plate fundraiser. After nearly ten years, I feel right at home among the extravagant trappings of the rich—the original artwork on the walls, the antiques that cost more than most people make in a year, and the hired help I pretend not to notice, quietly moving through homes like this one, perched high on a hill with all of Los Angeles glittering below us.

If you’re one of my targets, know that I’ve chosen you carefully. It’s likely you’re in the midst of a major life change—a lost job, a divorce, the death of a close family member. Or a heated run for elected office that you’re on the verge of losing. Emotional people take risks. They don’t think clearly, and they’re eager to believe whatever fantasy I feed them.

Social media has become my primary research tool, with its check-ins, geo-tags, and shameless self-promotion. And those quizzes some of your friends take and share? Dogs or cats? Number of brothers and sisters? Most of the questions seem harmless, but the next time you see one, take a closer look. Name five places you’ve lived or Four names you go by—both of which allow me to approach you. John? It’s me, Meg! From Boise, remember? I knew your sister.

It’s so easy, it’s criminal.

I spend hundreds of hours on observation and research. Profiling the different people in your life, finding the one I can befriend, the one who will lead me to you. When I’m done, I know everything I possibly can about you, and most of the people around you. By the time you’re saying nice to meet you, I’ve already known you for months.

Does this worry you? It should.

---

Have you tried the crab cakes? Veronica appears at my elbow, a cocktail napkin in hand. We’ve become close in the six months I’ve been back in Los Angeles, having met in a yoga class in Santa Monica, our mats positioned next to each other in the back. What started as a friendly greeting with a stranger at the beginning of class was a budding friendship by the end. It’s amazing how easy Instagram stories make it to put yourself in the right place at the right time, next to the right person.

I haven’t, I tell her. I heard they’re serving filet mignon for dinner, so I’m saving myself for that.

There’s a heat inside my chest, the slow burn of excitement I always get when I start a new job. I enjoy this part the most I think, the setting of the hook. Savoring the delicious anticipation of what’s about to happen. No matter how many times I do this, I never tire of the thrill this moment always brings.

Veronica crumples her napkin. You’re missing out, Meg.

It’s still a shock to hear people use my real name. I’ve gone by many over the years, mostly variations of my own—Margaret, Melody, Maggie. Backstories that range from college student to freelance photographer and most recently interior decorator and life coach to celebrities, all of them elaborate fabrications. Roles I played to near perfection. But tonight, I’m here as myself, someone I haven’t been for a very long time.

I’d had no choice in the matter. My entry into this job required me to get my real estate license, and there was no getting around the social security number and fingerprinting. But that’s okay, because this time I want my name to be known. For Ron Ashton—developer, local politician, and candidate for state senator—to know it was me who took everything from him. Not just his money, but the reputation he’s spent years cultivating.

I see him across the room, his broad shoulders a few inches above everyone else’s, his gray hair neatly combed, talking to Veronica’s husband, his campaign manager.

Veronica follows my gaze and says, David says the election is going to be close. That Ron can’t afford a single misstep in these last few months.

What’s he like? I ask. Between us.

Veronica thinks for a moment and says, Your typical politician. Closet womanizer. Fancies himself to be Reagan reincarnated. David says he’s obsessed with him. ‘He won’t shut up about fucking Reagan.’ She gives a small laugh and shakes her head.

"But what do you think?"

She looks at me with an amused expression. I think he’s like every other politician out there—pathologically ambitious. But he pays David well, and the fringe benefits are great. Then she nudges my shoulder. I’m glad you could come. I think there’ll be quite a few people here who will be good for you to meet. Possibly some new clients.

I take another sip of wine. My whole reason for being here tonight is to snag one client in particular. I could use the business, I say. It’s been hard starting over.

You’ll get there. You’ve got years of experience in Michigan behind you. I mean, the way you handled our purchase of the Eightieth Street property. I still don’t know how you got the sellers to drop their price like that.

I suppress a smile. Shortly after we’d met, Veronica had mentioned over post-yoga sushi that they were looking for an investment property, but the agent they were using wasn’t finding them anything in their price range.

Did she show you that property on Kelton? I had riffed, knowing exactly what they were hoping to find. The one-story traditional that was on the market for $1.7 million?

Veronica’s eyes had widened. No, and that would have been perfect. I should ask her about it.

It sold in multiples the day it hit the market, so it’s too late, I said. Your agent works out of Apex Realty in Brentwood, right? We’re always getting internal email alerts announcing her deals—ten million, twenty million. I took a piece of sushi and held it between my chopsticks. I can tell you, managing escrows at that price point can be consuming.

My story was that I’d moved home to Los Angeles after a successful career selling real estate in Ann Arbor. My new website links to another one in Michigan, featuring listings pilfered from Zillow and Redfin.

Veronica had set her chopsticks down and said, She was great when we purchased the Malibu house, but maybe this price point is beneath her. I took a sip of my lemon water and let Veronica spin this out in her mind. Finally, she’d said, I’d love to throw you the business. Maybe you can put your feelers out, see what you can find.

I’d found them something almost immediately. A single-story traditional in Westchester on a tree-lined street. Hardwood floors, a bay window, and a fully remodeled kitchen. When I handed Veronica the listing setup, outlining the house’s features and price, she’d balked. This is nearly $500,000 above our maximum budget.

In another lifetime, I’d once taken classes toward a digital design degree. I still have the certificate of completion tucked in a box, somewhere in storage. Granted, it’s a forgery, but I’d learned enough to get by in the beginning, and even more in the years since.

I think I can get them down significantly. Let’s just take a look and see what we think. It’s on lockbox, so we can go now if we want.

The listing I’d handed her was mostly accurate—bedrooms, square footage, HVAC; I’d only inflated the price. From there, I’d proceeded to negotiate down to just over $200,000 above the actual list price.

This only worked because apps like Zillow and Redfin don’t exist for people like Veronica and David. In their tax bracket, no one does anything that can be outsourced. Accountants and bookkeepers who pay their bills. Maids and housekeepers to do their grocery shopping and cook their meals. And a trusted real estate agent to do the searches, coordinate with the listing agent to preview properties, set up private showings, and manage the transaction for them.

David and Veronica signed paperwork when I asked them to, wired the funds where I told them to, and if they ever noticed they’d never met the listing agent or sellers, it was a fleeting thought and then it was gone again.

In the end, David had proclaimed it the easiest transaction he’d ever done. Why wouldn’t it be, when everyone got exactly what they wanted? The sellers got $200,000 over the real asking price. Veronica and David felt like they got the deal of the century, thanks to the one I’d fabricated. And I got a shiny—and ironclad—reputation within their circle of friends.

The main element of a good con is a strong thread of legitimacy. Of almost being who you say you are. Just like on a movie set, I’m real. My actions are real. It’s only the background that’s fake.

David joins us now, wrapping his arm around Veronica’s waist. Meg, you look gorgeous, he says. I hope my wife hasn’t been boring you with details of the remodel?

I force a smile. Not at all, I say. We were actually just talking about Ron. I hear the election is going to be close?

David nods. Our internal polls show them nearly tied. Tonight’s fundraising will go a long way toward our final push.

You must be exhausted, I say. Veronica tells me you’re never home.

David winks at Veronica. Sounds like the two of you have been getting into some good trouble in my absence. Thanks for keeping her busy.

It’s been my pleasure.

When the conversation turns toward their annual winter vacation to the Caribbean, I tune them out and watch the crowd of people mingle and mix, small clusters forming and then re-forming into new configurations as the quartet in the corner launches into a new rhythm. Los Angeles is so different from Pennsylvania, where I’d been last. I’ve had to make a steep adjustment, softening my approach, making sure all my edges match who I say I am. Here, people are naturally wary, looking for the angle, the hitch, the trick. It’s expected that no one you meet is exactly who they say they are.

I work hard to embed myself into other people’s circle of friends, so that no one notices that I don’t have any of my own. I haven’t had a true friend in years, not since before I left Los Angeles. I try not to think of Cal, or wonder where he is, whether he’s still with Robert. I have very few regrets in my life, but how things ended with Cal is one of them.

A tendril of anxiety winds its way through me as I think through my timeline once more. Unlike my past jobs, this one has an expiration date—fourteen days before Election Day. Which leaves me twenty weeks. One hundred forty days. It sounds like a lot, but there will be very little room for mistakes or delays. There are specific benchmarks I’ll need to meet along the way in order for everything to work. The first of which is an introduction to Ron, and that has to happen tonight.

As part of my background research, I’ve dipped into Ron’s real estate portfolio, searching public records to get a feel for how much he’s got in equity and how much he’s leveraged. Thanks to his run for office, I’ve been able to look through his taxes as well. One thing that stood out was how many financial risks he’s taken and how many of them played out to his advantage. I think back to how he tricked my mother, robbed us both of what was rightfully ours, and I wonder how many others Ron has used and then discarded on his path to state senator.

Meg, help us out. Saint John or Saint Croix? Veronica’s eyes are pleading.

I know she’s been angling for Saint Croix, so I say, The last time I was in Saint John was about three years ago. I shake my head as if saddened by the memory. As much as I love that island, I was really disappointed. You stay at the Villas, right?

David nods. They’ve always taken really good care of us.

I wrinkle my nose in distaste. I think they’ve unionized. Definitely not the experience I was hoping for.

Jesus, he says. Saint Croix it is then.

Veronica gives a tiny clap and says, I don’t know why you never listen to me.

A voice from behind cuts into our conversation. I hope you three are discussing my victory party. I turn and find myself face-to-face with Ron Ashton, the man who tore my life apart, sending my mother into a downward spiral she never recovered from and leaving me to live alone in a car for my final year of high school and beyond.

I smile. The man of the hour, I say, holding out my hand. Meg Williams. A small part of me thrills, knowing that what I’m offering him is the absolute truth. I’ve spent years imagining this moment, wondering if he’d recognize me or my last name. See the shadow of my mother’s features in mine. Wondering if I’d have to pivot and turn our meeting into a happy reunion, a coincidence of naivete and sexual innuendo. Enough to glide over the bump of our prior connection and convince him I knew nothing then, and know even less now. But his expression is blank, and I’m relieved to remain anonymous.

His grip is warm and firm, and I hold it just a fraction of a second longer than is typical, until I see a flash of interest behind his eyes. He will remember this moment. Come back to it again in his mind, and ask himself if he could have made a different decision. My job is to make sure the answer to that question is no.

Meg has just moved to Los Angeles from Michigan, Veronica offers. She was the one who got us that stellar deal on the Westchester property.

Ron’s interest deepens, as I knew it would. According to Ron’s social media accounts, he’s been working with the same real estate agent for nearly fifteen years. A man who had two complaints for sexual harassment to the California Realtors board. It had been easy enough to become his third and final one, leaving Ron Ashton without representation for nearly four months now. For a developer, that’s a problem.

Real estate, he says. What’s your sales record like?

In Michigan, I was in the top one percent for the last ten years, I tell him. But here in Los Angeles? It’s slow going. It’s always good to infuse a shade of humility. People appreciate knowing they’re better than you.

Do you have a card? he asks. I might give you a call.

I pull one out of my clutch and hand it to him. Check out my website. Even though I’m newly arrived in town, I’m not new to the business, and I know Los Angeles well. I’d be happy to chat if you’re interested. Then I turn to Veronica and say, In Saint Croix, you absolutely need to eat at The Riverhead.

As Veronica begins to outline their itinerary, I feel it, a tingle on the back of my neck that I learned long ago never to ignore. I take a small step backward and look down to my left, as if I’m trying to make sure I don’t misstep. When I look up, I sweep my gaze across the room searching for someone who might be watching me, but all I see is a room full of people talking and laughing, drinking and celebrating a man they’re hoping to send to Sacramento.

I smile and nod at Veronica, but I’m no longer listening. I’m running through my arrival, the people I spoke to—the valet, the campaign staff covering the front entry, various donors. Harmless small talk necessary for a new-to-town real estate agent trying to build her client base. All of them are accounted for, all of them are occupied. Perhaps it’s just the familiarity of being back in Los Angeles. The air here is unique, a blend of grass and car exhaust, and sometimes, if you’re close enough, the smell of salt on an ocean breeze. I’m far away from where I grew up, but beneath all the layers—all the identities I’ve held, the years that have passed—I’m still the person I was when I left. A woman on the run, flush with the power of knowing I could become anyone. Do anything. All I had to do was tell a man what he wanted to hear.

TEN YEARS AGO

Venice, California

MEG

I was born to be a grifter, though I didn’t see it until after I’d been one for some time. I’d just thought of what I did as getting by—a date, a free meal, a doggie bag with the remains of my food and sometimes his too. I tried not to think what my mother would say—almost four years gone—if she knew this was where I’d landed. Evaluating men on whether they might be the type to use fabric softener on their bedsheets, or keep toiletries—shampoo, soap, toothpaste—under the bathroom sink where I could swipe them. But in October 2009, I had to accept that living this way wasn’t working anymore.

Rain battered the windows of the internet café where I sat, nursing a mug of hot chocolate—more filling than coffee—and scrolled through my dating profile on Circle of Love. I glanced toward the street where my mother’s old minivan was parked and tried to calculate how much time I had left on my meter. My feet ached from a long day standing behind the counter at the Y, where I checked people in for their daily workout, handed them a towel, and pretended I wasn’t dying inside.

It was a job I couldn’t afford to lose. It was where I showered every day, where I kept my clothes, and where I could toss in a load of laundry alongside the towels I was tasked with washing. It paid for gas, which kept the car where I slept in operation. I made just enough money every week to cover my personal expenses plus the interest payment on my mother’s funeral costs, several thousand dollars of debt she never intended for me to carry. There was no room for error. I couldn’t afford to get a parking ticket, or a cavity, or even a cold sore. I was one UTI away from the homeless shelter.

But last night had scared me. I’d parked on a quiet, tree-lined street in Mar Vista, one of many I rotated through over the course of a month. It was one of my favorites—not a lot of foot traffic and few streetlights.

I’d burrowed into my nest of blankets, tucked behind tinted glass, the sunroof open just a crack to keep my windows from steaming up. Someone in the neighborhood was listening to Sting’s Fields of Gold, which my mother had loved. The music floated over me as I fell asleep, my muscles releasing, my mind easing into darkness.

I’d been yanked awake by the sound of someone trying to pop the lock on the passenger side door. Through the window I could see a huge, shadowy figure in dark clothing, a hood over his head, just a thin piece of glass separating the two of us. I’d acted on instinct, leaping from the backseat, grabbing my keys, and leaning on the horn as I jammed them into the ignition, peeling away from the curb and nearly hitting another parked car in my panic to get away.

It took an hour of driving aimlessly before my hands stopped shaking, before my heart stopped pounding, and I shuddered to think what would have happened if he’d gotten in. I kept imagining scenarios, each one more horrific than the last. A hand over my mouth. Being driven to a deserted location. Being dragged into a ditch.

My eyes were gritty from lack of sleep as I reread my dating profile, where only my name and age were true. Meg Williams, age 21. Profession: Marketing. Likes: live music, dining out, travel. I love to laugh and am always looking for adventure! Age range: 18–35. Looking for fun, not marriage. That last part was the line that kept me fed. I managed to get at least three dates a week, and I pushed hard for dinner and not coffee. When you live in a car, the last thing you need is more liquid. I said yes to every invitation, and I became a master of flirty online banter, giving the illusion that good things might happen after a sit-down dinner that included cloth napkins, appetizers, and a dessert menu.

A minimum of three dates a week saved me at least $50, money I’d hoped would grow until I had enough to afford a place to live. But something always set me back. Car registration. Rising gas prices. A parking ticket.

And so, on that rainy October afternoon, I finally gave up and admitted to myself I needed more than just a one-night reprieve every few days. I needed a safe place to live, and someone willing to give it to me. I wouldn’t find that from the men on my screen, all of whom were in their twenties and thirties. They were interested in casual dates. Hookups with no strings. Not an instant, live-in girlfriend.

I was going to have to go older.

I clicked over to my settings and slid the age range from thirty-five to forty. Would that be old enough? Forty-year-old women were over the hill, but men had longer shelf life.

Fuck it, I muttered under my breath and slid it up to fifty-five.

I thought back to my mother, a beautiful woman who had insisted on doing everything for herself, making my childhood ten times harder than it needed to be. She never accepted help when it was offered, and because there always seemed to be some poor fool in love with her, it was offered frequently. She said no when one of them wanted to buy me new shoes or

Reviews for The Lies I Tell

[Breanna Hastings · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Jaw Dropping. Will read her other books. I enjoyed it

[kimkimkim-7 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I inhaled this book - opened it, had a cup of coffee, ate lunch and rarely looked up until I turned the last page. It is a story of a master manipulator, her backstory, her cunning and meticulous planning. She is a scammer, a Con Artist, a woman on a mission to take and destroy - maybe.Point and counterpoint - there is also a journalist who is determined to have the full story and to demand her own retribution - if she can stop her own unraveling and downward spiral. The psychological mind bending is on every page, every thought and it is often exhausting in a good way.Meg and Kat, both damaged, both admirable, both believe “The difference between justice and revenge comes down to who’s telling the story.” This is a phenomenal, hard to put down psychological thriller which is over too quickly. Julie Clark is a masterful story spinner and she has hit an out of the park home run with this book.Thank you NetGalley and Sourcebooks for a copy.

[squirrelhead_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a book I will probably reread years down the road. There were many twists and back stories which had me invested in Meg's future.Have you ever watched a movie where you were in support of the bad guy? Meg isn't necessary all bad and her background makes you sympathetic but seriously, don't cross her!Meg uses different alias - Meg, Maggie, Melody - depending on her situation. She moves to different towns, develops an identity and smoothly cons her way into someone's life. Kat Roberts finds Meg and is determined to expose her but things are not as she imagined, based on her own interactions with Meg ten years prior. Kat blames Meg for a trauma she experienced which temporarily sidelined her journalism career.This book would be an excellent choice for a book club. If you haven't read Julie Clark's previous book The Last Flight I would also recommend that one.Publication date is June 21, 2022 by Sourcebooks Landmark. Genre: Mystery/Thriller and Women's Fiction.Thank you to Netgalley for the advanced reader's copy of this book. I was not compensated for the review, all opinions are mine.

[alekee_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

What a book to get lost in, and not want to leave!Beware this is a read that will grab you and not let go, twist and then more twists. Whom to believe.Life’s snowballs thrown at a young age, make Maggie, Meg, Melody, a few of the names the main character uses, do what she does, but she is a very intelligent woman, always seems to be one step ahead in her thinking.Enter Kat a woman who has been tragically hurt by Meg, and now has a chance to take revenge, by exposing her.What happens when these two, a grifter and a reporter, get close? Well, again whom can you trust. Facts become reveled and lots of surprises, and in the end, I wanted to continue on in their lives.Yes, I’ll be looking for more by Julie Clark!I received this book through Net Galley and the Publisher Sourcebooks Landmark, and was not required to give a positive review.

[gpangel_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Lies I Tell by Julie Clark is a 2022 Sourcebooks Landmark publication. Kat Robert’s life and journalism career was derailed and she’s now writing junk articles to pay the bills. For ten years she has held one woman responsible for the events that upended her life… and now that the woman has finally resurfaced, it’s time for a little payback. Meg is a con-artist, a grifter- and her newest target is an old nemesis – the man responsible for making her a homeless teenager. When Kat suddenly infiltrates her life, Meg is not at all fooled. She knows Kat has an agenda- and that agenda is her… This is a whip-smart thriller with several well-played elements going at one time. Clever schemes, revenge, and unreliable characters made this a highly entertaining page-turner!! I can’t wait to see what Clark will come up with next!! 4 stars

[micareads · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Meg Williams is a consummate con woman. After watching her mother, suffering from a terminal illness, be evicted from her home when a con man took advantage of her and the fact that she was unaware of what was and wasn't legal. Since that moment, Meg has learned to get over on men she thought were deserving of such action. While researching one of Meg's marks, Kat Roberts, a young journalist, speaks to Meg who suggests she speaks with the man's best friend. Thinking she will get the scoop of a lifetime, Kat meets this stranger and pays a terrible price. This moment in her life has Kat obsessing about finding Meg and making her pay. When she finally meets and befriends Meg, things do not turn out the way she expected and she comes to understand Meg's real motivation in conning these men out of their money. This book was not what I expected. I loved all of the back and forth with the storylines and the ways in which the two characters interacted. This was a quick enjoyable read that I would suggest to anyone who wanted an exciting thriller without a lot of drama. This is Julie Clark's most recent book but I am definitely looking forward to reading her backlist.

[rmarcin-630843 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wow! Julie Clark has done it again. This book grabbed me from page 1. Kat Roberts is a journalist hoping for her big story, and she believes she has it in Meg Williams, the woman she has been tracking for 10 years. Meg has now returned to California, and Kat sees her opportunity. Meg is posing as a realtor, and Kat befriends her, pretending to be a prospective buyer. Kat blames Meg for something that happened to Kat a decade ago at the hands of a man Meg knew.. Scott, Kat's fiance, is a white collar crime detective investigating fraud. He is also a gambler, and is in recovery. Scott warns Kat not to get too close to Meg, as con artists gain your trust before they turn on you. As things start to go wrong for Kat, she doesn't know whether it is Scott or Meg who is causing the difficulties. She struggles with her loyalties. But what she doesn't know is the entire back story, and when she does discover it, her entire life changes. This book is well plotted and well written. I couldn't wait to find out what the end game was, and the ending was the perfect touch. Thanks to Sourcebooks and NetGalley for the ARC. All opinions are my own.

[janismack · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Easy to read novel about two women those lives become intertwined because of their past. I enjoyed the story of redemption and payback of a woman that tries to right many wrongs.

[susan.h.schofield · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Another fantastic book from Julie Clark! It grabbed my attention from the beginning - I would have read it in one sitting if I had the time. She created dynamic and interesting characters in both con artist Meg and investigative journalist Kat. You really knew what was motivating both women. I highly recommend this book - fans of The Last Flight will not be disappointed. Thanks to NetGalley for the digital ARC.

[ellenh_28 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What a great, twisty, clever psychological thriller! I didn't want to put it down. Seeking justice, conning the conner, whatever; it was really good.

[pgchuis · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I received a copy of this novel from the publisher via NetGalley.This was a very entertaining read about 'grifter' Meg, and Kat the journalist who suspects what Meg is up to and blames Meg for a traumatic event which derailed her life. Meg's methods were interesting to read about, and gradually my sympathies shifted. I found the voices of Meg and Kat fairly indistinguishable and at times I had to concentrate hard on keeping the timeline straight, but the ending was extremely satisfying.

[jhscolloquium · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Bestselling author Julie Clark was fascinated by a podcast about a con artist who "went to elaborate lengths to lure in his victims, gain their trust, and then steal everything they owned." She envisioned female con artists being even more effective because women are generally perceived as less threatening than men. She asked herself, "Would people be more inclined to trust them?"From the outset, Clark makes Meg a richly sympathetic con artist. Early in the story, Meg reveals that her latest target, Ron Ashton, tricked her mother, robbed them of what was rightfully theirs, and is now a powerful politician. Meg's first-person narrative is highly effective and heightens her story's emotional impact. She explains that Ashton "tore my life apart, sending my mother into a downward spiral she never recovered from and leaving me to live alone in a car for my final year of high school and beyond." Meg describes how her mother longed for a true partner, believing women should stand on their own, but fell victim to the scheming, deceitful Ashton. Meg's dreams were crushed and she learned to take refuge in libraries, using the computers there to establish a dating profile that ensured at least three dinner dates per week in order to stay fed. Living in her car, she worked at the YMCA where she was able to shower before her shift and hide her true circumstances from her boss and coworkers. She was never quite able to save enough enough money to get a place to live due to car registration fees, rising gas prices, and parking tickets issued as a result of the ongoing search for a safe place to park and catch a few hours of sleep. She inadvertently fell into a life of grifting when she discovered the profile on a dating site of a math teacher, Cory Dempsey, at her high school. Crafting a fake identity and life story, Meg used her knowledge about the forty-eight-year-old, who had been promoted to high school principal, as a basis for her first scam. Initially, she was motivated by her need for a safe place to live. But as she learned more about him, she formulated a plan to extract revenge and found she enjoyed being someone else. Eventually, Meg reached the point that "harming someone who harmed someone she cared about felt right to her" and found a lucrative career as a con artist.Meg explains how she creates elaborate, detailed backstories about herself, focuses on specific targets, and "plays the long game," taking time to study her prey. She methodically infiltrates her victims' lives, heavily using social media to establish connections with her victims' friends and business associates. That way, the mutual acquaintance can vouch for her when she finally meets the victim, corroborating details of the identity she has fabricated. And she reinvests in her business, using the money she makes from her cons to fund her future scams. She keeps meticulous records of her pursuits.By the time Meg meets Kat, she has been spent ten years perfecting her techniques, all in preparation for and leading up to the one big con that will destroy Ashton, the man who ruined her life. As Meg compellingly explains, being a con artist is not just a role she never planned to play. It is a lonely existence and she has no intention of being a grifter indefinitely.When Kat and Meg's lives intersected a decade ago, Kat's career as an investigative journalist was just beginning. Chasing the Cory Dempsey story, she saw a chance to score an interview with a reluctant witness. It could lead not only to the discovery of new and shocking information about the story, but also, perhaps, to details about Meg herself that would enable her to successfully pitch a story about her and allow Kat to advance in a highly competitive industry. Her risk did not pay off. Instead, her life quickly derailed. She was "collateral damage" as a result of a series of events set in motion by Meg. She has blamed Meg ever since, determined to expose Meg as the fraud that she is and put her life back in order. Clark also employs a first-person narrative to convey Kat's story, pulling readers into her innermost thoughts and motivations in chapters that alternate with Meg's account. Kat reveals that she knows blaming Meg for what happened to her is not entirely rational, but she embarks, like Meg, on a mission to "balance the scales."Kat is living with her fiancé, Scott, a police detective with a gambling problem, when she learns that Meg has returned. Meg is posing as a real estate broker, and Kat secures a job as Meg's assistant. She plans to infiltrate Meg's life, ingratiating herself in much the way that Meg does with her victims, in order to gather enough evidence to finally write the exposé that will unmask Meg and establish Kat as a credible, respected journalist. She believes that Meg has no idea who she really is, but before long, Kat finds herself being reeled in by Meg, and doubting everything she thought she knew as she strives to keep her life from unraveling yet again. Trust is a theme Clark deftly explores through Kat's experiences. She made the mistake of trusting years ago and the consequences devastated her. But did she learn from the experience? Is her trust in Scott misplaced? Has she learned to trust her own instincts? And could her growing fondness for Meg, despite her knowledge of Meg's actions, undermine her efforts to get her life and career back on track?The Lies I Tell is a smart, absorbing story about two women who craft false identities and attempt to con each other. Both are motivated by deep wounds inflicted by others who wronged them. In Meg's case, she lost her beloved mother as a result of Ashton's callous wrongdoing. Both women are intent on retribution, believing that they can exact justice and, in the process, free themselves from past hurts and forge for themselves the kind of futures they have long dreamed about. Clark cleverly keeps readers guessing "who is the cat and who is the mouse" in a tale that is simultaneously full of surprises and heart-wrenching. Clark has made Meg a relatable anti-hero for whom readers will find themselves rooting. And The Lies I Tell is yet another cautionary tale about the dangers of social media. The methods Meg employs to gather insight into her victims and enable her to believably ingratiate herself in their lives illustrate the inherent dangers of posting personal details online. Posts detailing life experiences, birthplaces, current and past residences, jobs held, names of relatives, etc. can easily provide a con artist the entrée he/she seeks. For Clark, The Lies I Tell is "about justice; it's about taking back what you think belongs to you.” And that theme is particularly poignant, resonant, and timely given that Clark's two protagonists are female and this is still "a world where women often get the short end of the stick."Thanks to NetGalley for an Advance Reader's Copy of the book.

[celticlady53 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Not having read anything by this author, I did not know what to expect. That said I was pleasantly surprised at Lies I Tell. Meg Williams and Kat Roberts, as different as they are the same. Both have deep-seated issues. Meg is bitter about how her mother was treated by a man who stole everything from her. Kat is an unsuccessful reporter who is trying to write a story and expose Meg for the con artist she is.Meg is plotting her revenge against the man who destroyed her mother, but also cons people out of their money. She only goes after men who are selfish and narcissistic, according to Meg. These two women eventually meet and become friends and that is when Kat finds out that Meg is more than what she thought she was.Is what Meg does ethical, no not really but it was fun to read how she manipulates the target she is after and gets away with millions in cash and properties. I was rooting for her the whole time. As for Kat, she was finally successful in turning her life around, including the relationship with her fiance.This book is a twisty psychological domestic thriller that will appeal to you if you like this kind of story. My favorite kind. I really enjoyed this book and I give it 5 stars!

[jfe16 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Review of Advance Reader’s Edition eBookTen years ago, Kat Roberts was new to journalism, working as a junior reporter under a famed investigative journalist writing for the Los Angeles Times. Eager to prove herself, she sets out alone to investigate a telephone tip that she hopes will support her efforts in her current assignment. But things don’t go as planned, leaving Kat wanting revenge for what she’s suffered.And Meg Williams is the woman who phoned that fateful tip to the newspaper.Eager to expose the woman and exact a bit of revenge, Kat finagles a job with Meg, but the more she sees of the woman and her actions, the more she comes to realize that her initial judgment of the woman might be a bit flawed.Can Meg and Kat, two women who work together for separate outcomes, find the justice they so desperately seek? And what will they discover about each other along the way?=========Told alternately by Meg and Kat, the events in the unfolding story occur primarily in the present with an occasional chapter looking to the past to provide the necessary backstory. Strong, nuanced, believable characters populate this compelling story where nothing is as it seems. Two women . . . one a con artist extraordinaire, the other a journalist looking for the “big story” . . . are brought together. But both hold secrets and neither is honest about their true intentions.Both women, drawn together by ulterior motives, play a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse as they each work toward their own closely-held mission. Each woman takes the steps necessary to bring her to her ultimate purpose; however, the revelation of some unexpected surprises changes understandings. Both women’s stories are compulsive; Kat’s holds the additional subplot of a somewhat troublesome relationship with her compulsive gambler fiancé.As friendship, loyalty, and trust are tested, cunning and duplicity play a role in the search for revenge, justice, and veracity. Here there are consequences for actions; accountability holds the upper hand as Meg finagles her way through clever set-ups to correct the wrongs done in the name of selfishness, greed, or depravity.As the story spins out, the man evades justice and ultimately receives the brunt of the denigration while the woman steps into the role of avenger. Readers, however, should not take this as a blanket judgment against all men . . . even in the telling of this tale there are men who are honest and principled.But this story is one of justice denied and retribution for deceitful choices, even if that retribution comes at the hand of a vigilante. It’s about the girl code that earned Meg some kindness during a difficult time in her young life. It’s about choices and conscience. It’s about achieving what is right.The pace of this complex character-driven story is relentless; the ultimate aim is to expose someone who wronged another. When the story opens, Kat wants to expose Meg; Meg appears to want to expose the politician, but her endgame often takes time before its full revelation to the reader. Eventually, the dynamics set in play lead to a denouement most readers simply won’t see coming.Also included in this eBook: a Reading Group Guide; a Conversation with the Author; an excerpt from “The Last Flight.”Highly recommended.I received a free copy of this eBook from St. Martin’s Press, Minotaur Books and NetGalley#TheLiesITell #NetGalley

[fredreeca · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Meg is a master manipulator! She is one of the best con artists out there. And she has never been caught. Enter Kat. Kat blames Meg for something which happened to her years ago. She has been searching for Meg ever since. So, when Meg shows back up under her real name Kat manages to weave herself into Meg’s life with the hope to take her down. But Meg stays one step ahead.Ok..there is no way I can read all the books sent to me…and a lot of times my eyes are bigger than my reading time. So, I had skipped this one. But, because my good friend over at Silver’s Reviews rated it 5 stars, I decided to go back and pick it up! And boy! What a ride this book is!I classify this book as a “smart read”. Not many authors get this award. But, Meg is one of the smartest and slickest characters I have ever come across. Her level of manipulation is genius.Then there is Kat. Her life has basically been destroyed and she has struggled to get it back. So, she goes in full fledged to try and stop Meg. And the closer she gets the more she realizes Meg may not be the con Kat thinks she is!This is a story which twists and turns and keeps the reader on their toes. And believe it or not…I loved Meg. I never knew what she was going to do next!Need just an all around fabulous read…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today!I received this novel from the publisher for a honest review.