I was fairly sure I was going to like this one: the plot had a lot of similarities to “Blood On The Tracks” which I enjoyed. It has a strong but damaged female lead, a loyal but damaged dog, a murder to solve and a unique culture (Irish Travellers) to delve into.
I only made it through the dedication and the first chapter before I understood that this book wasn’t for me or rather, I’m not for this book.
I’m not nice enough to read this. It had barely started and I was already being distracted by how… wholesome the book felt. The writing was fine and the story was developing OK but I felt like I was watching one of those programs from Christian Television where the FBI agents all smile a lot and have hearts of gold.
My view on the world is a little more jaded. I tried being an optimist once, but I knew it wouldn’t last. I put the book aside because I knew I’d end up muttering “Yeah, right” and “Like that’s going to happen” and that wouldn’t be fair on me or the book. Lots of people will enjoy this, I’m just not one of them.