I picked this book as a nostalgic read since my grandmother and I would read and discuss the early books of this series together. Granted, I could have gone in order of the last book that I read, but this one was on sale and thought it would be a pleasant read to pass some time in December. Halfway through chapter 2 I was questioning that I had chosen the correct series because other than the baking and names of the characters, this book resembled very little of the books that I remembered. It seems that there are many more recipes and that the thoughts and actions of each character are overexplained as if the reader could not infer what was going on by simple context of the storyline. I remembered enjoying the at times quite witty writing in the earlier books. This novel lacked all wit and whimsy. It seemed that whoever wrote this (some reviewers are guessing ghost writers), enjoyed the experience even less than the readers who have been with Joanne Fluke since the beginning of the series. As an avid reader, I very rarely have to convince myself to continue with a book. However, I wanted to know what happened so I dredged along. I finally finished the book today wondering why I wasted my time. The ending was not satisfying enough to justify reading all of the book. As my grandmother might have said, “It wasn’t worth the calories.” |
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For the amor of language 