I wanted to read this book because I absolutely LOVE Cathie Pelletier's work, "The Funeral Makers," etc., and I was curious to experience another facet of her writing under the pseudonym K.C. McKinnon. Let's just say I'm glad I only spent so little on the paperback version.
Early on I knew I would have to work at reading this book, especially when faced with a bogus simile such as this: "Bricks had fallen from the chimney and lay on the ground like small red bales of hay." Huh? The book is rife with similar literary bungles.
It is a nice story, as other readers have remarked in this forum, but the writing disintegrates into useless blather time and again. Go ahead, skip a few paragraphs, it won't matter. All you want to do is find out if she gets the guy in the end.
The main character, Maggie, is on a journey of self-discovery that is rooted in her past. Abandoned by her husband for a younger woman, she is looking for a guy she regrets dumping 25 years ago. But instead of character-building dialogue or self-examination, we get paper-thin chat and starry-eyed navel-gazing. A typical passage: "How could she forget him? How could she ever let him go, if she didn't breathe his air, sit by his lake, listen to his loons, and then, hopefully, exorcise him forever. And maybe, in the scuffle, she would discover who she was and what she wanted. Would she be a professor of comparative literature? Or would she be like "Gunsmoke's" Miss Kitty, tending bar night after night, waiting for Matt Dillon to finally kiss her? But Robbie would never kiss her again. Robbie was gone, like the migrating hawks, and he wouldn't be back."
I can't say whether this book is overwritten or underwritten. Maybe the auther drew herself a bubble bath and let the Calgon take her away. She certainly lost touch with the wonderful, in-depth characterization and original writing style she displays as Cathie Pelletier. I was disappointed.