Two Stars for ‘The Widow’s House’ by Carol Goodman

Let’s start on a positive note. The book opens with a deliciously spooky atmosphere centered on an old, haunted manor dripping with secrets and lore. A downtrodden couple, hoping to salvage their flailing marriage, move into the caretaker’s cottage on the estate, which just so happens to be owned by their former creative writing professor. Things go bump in the night. A ghostly woman drifts through the misty apple orchards. A phantom baby wails in the darkness. Such fun! I was fully on board.

And then the story veers sharply into domestic drama territory, saddling us with two deeply unlikable protagonists, Jess and Clare. The ghosts fade into the background while Jess’s red flags start whipping in the wind, and Clare twists herself into a pretzel making excuses for him—usuually while tearing herself down in the process. At one point she actually says, “I can’t blame Jess for straying because I’ve let myself go.” Absolutely not. This is 2026, not 1956. Her inability to stand up for herself was maddening, and not in a compelling, character-driven way—just frustrating.

As for the plot, it ended up being far lighter on the paranormal than I anticipated, which was a real disappointment. The twist wasn’t much of a surprise, though the suspense did pick up slightly toward the end. Still, the overall experience was a dud for me.

If I could ask the author one question, it would be this: How are readers supposed to care about the story when we can’t bring ourselves to care about the characters?

Starts with a Kiss by Russ Hall

I just took a trip to my favorite little R&R spot on the Texas coast and decided to take this scandalous read along with me. There aren’t any magical crime-solving cats or amateur sleuths caught in love triangles, so this isn’t really the kind of book I’d choose for myself. But sometimes it’s good to try something new and different.

The word “different” is a good description for this book since the storyline is a departure from the standard beach-read thriller.  It’s really more of a character sketch of a very complicated young guy (unfortunately named Dudie) who’s navigating apartment life with a sociopathic, nymphomaniac roommate named Barrett,  and a slew of horny housewives.

As traveling salesmen, they spend their weekdays lounging around the apartment complex pool, where all the desperate housewives in string bikinis flirt shamelessly with Barrett. Of course, the husbands aren’t too jazzed about all this and, well you can imagine how it all comes to a head.

The story is a little odd, but I couldn’t stop reading due to the “Why” factor. I just kept asking, “Why tiptoe around a small apartment full of naked people when you can just move? Why hole yourself up in a pup-tent to drown out the boom-boom noises?” I cringe just thinking about the germs alone. Yeesh.

Either way, Dudie’s sticking it out at the cesspool of adultry because he’s oddly devoted to his frienemy roommate. But mostly he’s got this weird voyeuristic habit of watching the scandalous events unfold.  Poor Dudie doesn’t have much of a personal life, which we get to learn more about in bits and pieces throughout the book. I found him to be extremely frustrating, a little creepy, and oddly endearing. Despite my misgivings about this young, tragic character, his observations about human nature were spot on.

“…When I started my career in sales, I wasn’t a good listener. None of us are. We like ourselves too much. The big leap is forcing yourself to close the mouth, stare back at the other person and embrace the spirit of the other person talking–that is, get what the person is about; the words behind the words. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Then why do so many people fail?”

Despite my love/hate relationship with Dudie, I had to keep watching the train wreck unfold—and boy does it ever go up in flames! I’ll stop right here before I give it all away, but I will say that the last chapter left me with more questions than answers, which makes me wonder if there’ll be a sequel.