Review: I Hold Your Heart

I Hold Your Heart by Karen Gregory
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Gemma has just started her A levels when she meets Aaron. He understands her in a way no one else ever has, and soon she's spending all her time with him. Her friends don't understand what it's like. They're jealous. Right?

This book starts out fine; Gemma's studying, playing music, working and hanging out with friends. Even Aaron, at first, seems nice; kind and thoughtful, dedicated to Gemma's happiness. As things go on, though, they get increasingly creepy. Aaron's change in behaviour is slow and subtle and it's easy to understand why Gemma gets caught up with him. It's terrifying to watch; I just wanted to scream at her to get out of there immediately. This is a fantastic read on a very important topic; too many teenagers wouldn't recognise abuse of this kind and it needs to be talked about more. This book will definitely do it.

Between this title and Countless, Karen Gregory is on my must-read list.

Receiving an ARC did not affect my review in any way.


When she doesn’t answer her messages, or her phone when I call her, that’s when I look. Not before. But I know how to get into her WhatsApp; it’s easy if you’ve got someone’s number.

The first thing I see are the messages from Cal. Way more of them than she said. The winky faces. Kisses. Little in-jokes from a time before I knew her.

I read through each one, feeling the nausea rising.There’s a rational part of me that’s aware her messages indicate nothing more than friendship, though his are screaming he wants more. But a larger part of me feels like a vortex, as though my lungs are collapsing in on themselves and I’m struggling for breath, fighting to pull up and out. Fighting to remember who I am. Before I know it, I’m dressed and driving, taking the corners on the wrong side of the road, not bothering to brake at red lights, the night a blur of looming hedgerows and cat’s eyes flaring at me from the middle of the road.

I kill the engine at the bottom of her track and sit there, holding on to the steering wheel. Go home, a voice is whispering in my head. I try her number again but there’s still no answer. And the need to just see her, to touch her hair, is overwhelming. Too big for me to fight.

I step out of the car and jog up the track.

View all my reviews