I received this as a First Readers giveaway from Goodreads, and was very jazzed about it because I never win anything! I do wish that I could give this a better review though, but quite honestly, I didn't enjoy it at all, though I did manage to finish it.
The main problem with this novel is the narrator, Catherine. I don't know if the author intended for her to be so... thoroughly unlikable, snippy, narcissistic and cold? - but that's how she came across to me from the first few pages on, and I very quickly got irritated with her. I suspect this was more a result of the author possibly not being able to effectively connect with his 'inner tough gal with good heart way waaayyy down there' than an actual desire to create such a thoroughly unpleasant character, because it's a rare author who can pull off writing in the first person as the opposite gender. Most of her dialog is described as ' I snapped,' or snarked, or she even admits a few times, 'I'm sure I sounded snippy.' She's also terribly distant and even cruel with her daughter, who, as her relationship seems to suggest, runs screaming to an older woman in search of the love she never received from her mother. The poor girl's father, whom Catherine was married to a for a number of years, doesn't even get a name in the novel, yet Catherine moons and moans endlessly over her much younger boyfriend, who she treats equally coldly, and it's never really clear why this damaged young man is so enthralled with her in the first place.
Oh, yeah, and the plot - the other problem. Totally implausible. Catherine gets involved in the investigation of possible serial killer because she found a body on her property and her neighbor happens to be the psychologist assigned to the case, who inexplicably tells her all kinds of confidential information, which she promptly blabs to anyone who'll listen. This would maybe *kinda* work if Catherine were a psychologist herself, or even an investigative reporter, but she writes a housekeeping column fer cryin' out loud! How to remove stains from your white shirts is her bag, not serial killers, so her involvement in the case made no sense whatsoever.
I hung in there though just out of curiosity as to who the mystery bad guy killer was, and I really shouldn't have bothered because oy vey - talk about out of left field, and the final paragraph is so ludicrous it actually made me laugh. If this were a first time effort by a debut novelist, I'd be cutting him a little more slack, and hey, better luck next time dude, but this just felt like a lazy writing experiment by an author who clearly seems capable of much better. A definite disappointment and I wouldn't recommend this to anyone. I'm also surprised by how many favorable reviews it has received - did I missing something??