I almost gave this a five. Not sure if I liked this so much because it is the first fiction I've read in a long time, or because it was generational or because it taught me more about Ireland and Irish culture. Since living with my mother-in-law, I seem to want to know more and more about her you...
Greta, who'd adjusted her seat to the most upright position, sat on the passenger's side of Michael's Chevy Cavalier with her right hand gripping the handle of the door, her left in a fist that pushed into the worn vinyl of the bucket seat. Julia was a good driver, but aggressive, like a long-dis...
O’Neill on a Tuesday, and on Friday she watched an unfamiliar young man step off the ferry and steady himself for a moment before continuing up the path to the hospital. He clutched his briefcase with both hands. “Mr. O’Neill?” she asked. She was waiting in the shadow of the hospital’s western wa...