I bought this book probably 10 or 12 years ago at a rummage sale or a thrift shop or somewhere, and it's been sitting, forlorn and unread, all this time. Saturday night I pulled it out of a basement bookcase to get to another book, opened it up, read the first sentence, and realized that I *needed to read this book* right away. And so I did, I read it on Sunday, basically all at on gulp, just like that.
It would have gotten five stars, but the ending was a tiny bit sloppy and too quickly sorted out, but not sorted out enough. I feel the author could have taken another 20 pages to work through some of the tangles, perhaps, flesh it out a bit, make it a little more satisfatory. But perhaps that's just me. It all seemed so nicely messy and *real*, and then towards the end it veered into the unreal and drunken-western-gothic trope that authors rely on too much sometimes to end stories that just doesn't make sense and isn't very satisfying after all is said and done.