'Don't tell me,' said the taxi driver, rubber-necking at the formidable Victorian manor. 'Your mother's Norman Bates.'I've already read more than a hundred pages since I started this novel last night. Obviously, it pulled me in, and I've barely put it down (except to sleep) since I started. "A perfectly good family" this is NOT. In fact, it's even more dysfunctional than my family.
'My mother's dead,' I said. Harsh, but the information was so fresh for me, only two weeks old, that I was still repeating it to myself.
Gilion at Rose City Reader hosts Book Beginnings on Fridays. Click here for today's Mister Linky.