This was my first book by Mary Elizabeth, and the synopsis intrigued me from the start; I liked  how different the story line was and how there wasn’t really a hero/heroine per say because they were bank robbers, and Mary Elizabeth portrayed Low and Posey in a way that allowed readers to see beyond their criminal actions and try to understand the reasons for their unlawful decisions.

I also liked the Bonnie and Clyde feel to the bandits, but Low and Posey stand out in their own right too because they’re not your typical criminals; they may be on the most wanted list, but all Low and Posey want is to get out of the hood and live their lives with nothing more than the essentials of survival: food, shelter and not much else. But that just doesn’t seem in the cards for them, so when Low feels like his back is against the wall and there’s no other way to turn, his criminal background shines through because desperation makes him see no other way and add to that the fact that he feels guilty for dragging Posey into his outlaw life, he’ll do anything to take care of her even if it means sacrificing himself in order to do so.

While there are aspects of the story that worked well for me, some things did not work for me. But I do have to say that this book seems to be a case of it’s not you…it’s me because the other reviews I’ve seen of Low from bloggers who read a lot of the same stories as I do loved Low and Posey’s story while I was left a little out of sorts throughout the Four-Four Bandits crime spree.

Low and Posey’s crime spree is a well written and suspenseful plot line, but I didn’t feel at all connected to them as characters. Some of it might be from the fact readers aren’t privy to Posey’s perspective, so it’s difficult to ascertain why it’s essential for her to stand by Low and live the dangerous lifestyle she finds herself immersed in due to the risks she’s willing to take because of her love for Low.  I also didn’t get a true sense of where their love stems from because the ways in which they talk to each other didn’t mesh well with the concept of undying love. But their circumstances are quite bleak, so it does stand to reason that their relationship would be a bit different and unconventional, and intellectually, I understand that, but I still would have liked to feel Low and Posey’s connection more and why Posey chose to stand by Low no matter what happened.

Even though some parts of Low left me feeling a bit conflicted about the story as a whole, I do know that readers will enjoy this outlaw story and find themselves symphatizing with Low and Posey and the circumstances that left them with no other choice but to live a life of crime in order to survive.

A complimentary copy was provided in exchange for an honest review. 

3.5 Poison Apples

“Keep the engine running,” I say. “If I’m not out in five minutes, leave.”

Poe nods her head, but doesn’t argue.

When the nine o’clock hour comes, both she and I watch the clock on the dashboard turn to one minute after.

“You’ll need to keep your mask on, Poesy. Make sure none of your hair is showing,” I say. “Keep your head down the entire time.” 

“Okay,” she answers in a small voice.

“If you see cops—”

“I know what to do, Lowen. I know you want me to leave you.” She sighs. “But I don’t know if I can.”

Despite our circumstances, I smirk. “Hopefully you won’t have to.”

At nine thirty, Poe and I switch seats, and she gets behind the wheel while I load the pistol. With hands that shake uncontrollably, I place the ski mask over my head but don’t pull it down my face. I help Poesy with hers, tucking in every stray strand of hair so they remain unseen.

She grabs my wrist, and our eyes meet. I see fear combined with love and loyalty in her stare.

I kiss her knuckles and promise with the chance of lying, “We’re going to be okay.”

Unlike when we drove into the garage, the streets are alive and filled with a variety of automobiles, and dirty sidewalks carry several pedestrians. The forty-second drive to the bank feels like forty years. Thick blood courses through my veins, and I feel it flow through arteries and vessels, nourishing muscle and bone. My head echoes with the thump, thump, thump of my hard heartbeat. Every breath is shallower than the one before it.

“Pull down your mask,” I say, but my voice sounds foreign and feels a million miles away.

As Poe drives into California Credit Union’s parking lot, I grip the cold steel in my hand.

The edges of my vision blur; I’m blinded by adrenaline.

My skin crawls like I’m covered in spiders; I’m delirious with edginess.

“Your ski mask,” Poesy shrieks. “Cover your fucking face, Lowen.”

My girl reaches over and pulls it down for me. The car stops to a screeching halt, and reality crashes into me in a brutal rush, stripping me of air and voice.

“If we’re in this, you need to go,” Poesy says in a calm but stern tone, hidden behind her black mask.

There’s peace in her eyes.

There’s strength in the girl who stayed with me when I was locked up. 

The one who’s remained by my side, believing and starving all at the same time.

With the gun in my hand and determination in my heart, I leave Poesy in the car and push open the glass double doors into the bank.

As I step foot onto the burgundy carpet, I yell, “Everyone down on the fucking floor!”

Mary Elizabeth is an up and coming author who finds words in chaos, writing stories about the skeletons hanging in your closets.

Known as The Realist, Mary was born and raised in Southern California. She is a wife, mother of four beautiful children, and dog tamer to one enthusiastic Pit Bull and a prissy Chihuahua. She’s a hairstylist by day but contemporary fiction, new adult author by night. Mary can often be found finger twirling her hair and chewing on a stick of licorice while writing and rewriting a sentence over and over until it’s perfect. She discovered her talent for tale-telling accidentally, but literature is in her chokehold. And she’s not letting go until every story is told.