This puts me on interesting ground vis a vis Ms Roberts. I thought the beginning of this book was engrossing, but by halfway I was bored out of my gourd.
Naomi interrupts her serial-killer father doing his thing and goes to the police. Saves a human life. She’s 11 years old at the time. There’s fall-out – within her family, friends, and the media. This was all interesting.
Then Naomi’s an adult – weirdly shuttered and distant. She buys a huge rundown house, and thus begins 300 pages of remodel with occasional photo descriptions to shake it up (Naomi is a photographer). Her love interest, Xander, was ok – overshadowed by yard work and wall colors. A new serial killer begins hunting Naomi (bc sure – why not – they’re basically a dime a dozen) and everyone does stupid and unrealistic things.
I’m told this is fairly exemplary of Ms Roberts’ work. If that’s accurate I don’t want to read her again. This was my first of her books and likely to be the last. I felt like I didn’t know these characters nearly as well as I knew the kitchen cabinets in Naomi’s remodeled kitchen.