“Tightly paced and skillfully plotted, The Lost Night is a remarkable debut.”—Jessica Knoll, New York Times bestselling author of Luckiest Girl Alive
What really happened the night Edie died? Years later, her best friend Lindsay will learn how unprepared she is for the truth.
NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY BuzzFeed • Glamour • Real Simple • Marie Claire • Library Journal • Booklist • CrimeReads
In 2009, Edie had New York’s social world in her thrall. Mercurial and beguiling, she was the shining star of a group of recent graduates living in a Brooklyn loft and treating New York like their playground. When Edie’s body was found near a suicide note at the end of a long, drunken night, no one could believe it. Grief, shock, and resentment scattered the group and brought the era to an abrupt end.
A decade later, Lindsay has come a long way from the drug-addled world of Calhoun Lofts. She has devoted best friends, a cozy apartment, and a thriving career as a magazine’s head fact-checker. But when a chance reunion leads Lindsay to discover an unsettling video from that hazy night, she starts to wonder if Edie was actually murdered—and, worse, if she herself was involved. As she rifles through those months in 2009—combing through case files, old technology, and her fractured memories—Lindsay is forced to confront the demons of her own violent history to bring the truth to light.
Praise for The Lost Night
“[An] impressive debut with a nerve-wracking finish.”—People
“A compulsively readable journey into the dark corners of memory. Bartz has crafted a terrifying and delicious narrative in the vein of Gillian Flynn and Paula Hawkins.”—Jo Piazza, bestselling coauthor of The Knockoff
“Andrea Bartz casts a nostalgic, misty haze over this story about a meticulous-minded woman playing detective with her own life. If you’ve ever woken up unsure of what happened the night before and then proceeded to do it again...oh my, this is your book.”—Caroline Kepnes, author of You and Providence
It's 2009, at the height of the recession, and Lindsay Bach, the narrator of Bartz's accomplished debut, and her friends hang out in the hipster haven of the Calhoun Lofts in Bushwick, Brooklyn, living in a haze of concerts, alcohol, and drugs. Late one August night, Edie Iredale, the attention-seeking leader of the group and Lindsay's best friend, is found dead with a gun in her right hand and a short suicide note open on her computer. Ten years later, Lindsay accepts Edie's suicide as a devastating part of her past, but when she reconnects with some of her old friends, she discovers that her memory of that fatal night is mysteriously missing. Lindsay begins calling everyone who was at Calhoun that night, digging through old email chains, stalking Facebook accounts, and watching camcorder videos, but what she finds doesn't bode well for her. As the story hurtles toward its dramatic conclusion, Lindsay realizes she can't trust anyone, especially not herself. Fans of psychological thrillers will want to see more from this talented newcomer. Author tour.)
Gals vs. Guys
First, I loved this story. But the book itself...
Andrea Bartz goes a bit overboard, for my taste, giving the deep background for the protagonist’s thoughts and actions. Part of this is a female author vs. male author style: If John Grisham had written this book, it would have been a hundred pages shorter and just as interesting. But if you like female authors, and/or lots and lots of detail, and you enjoy intelligent thrillers, I think you’ll love this book.
If you’re on vacation, it’ll do
Silly, fast read. Flowery prose, lifetime tv style plot, but it did the trick at the pool.
I love a good mystery novel, also having lived in Brooklyn for eight years I thought this would be a great read.
Little did I realize that it would quite literally transport me back to some of the best years of my life (2009-2016). It didn’t take me long to start noticing some of these events and storylines seemed really familiar to me. The parties, the roommates, the rooftop and most definitely the apartment explosion. Calhoun is actually a real place, called the Mckibbin Lofts where I lived for many amazing years.