Review: Our House

Our House by Louise Candlish
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Not sure why it took me longer than it should have to really embrace this one, because it’s incredibly legit and well written. Thank you 4 1/2 hour plane ride from Cleveland to California for allowing me the opportunity to devour all but the last 17 pages of this novel in one sitting (hey Mr. Pilot Sir, can you circle around a bit so I can finish this please? No? Okay then.)

Typically I love giving spoilers away in my reviews, and typically it’s in the form of kicking a crappy book when it’s down. However, I will deviate from my standard here because I care about my readers (yes, all three of you!) and I don’t want to ruin your fun. And because I also seem to lack the ability to write as witty of reviews when I actually enjoy a book. *Insert sarcastically hilarious line about your home being sold out from under you to a family of strangers by your good for nothing husband*.

This novel wasn’t perfect, and some aspects were maybe a bit far fetched (here is where I could unapologetically include a spoiler - I am practicing some serious self control here people!). But all things considered, it went down like a fine, aged wine compared to the gas station malt liquor novels I have ingested lately.

And honestly, anything that might be lacking during the course of this narrative doesn’t even matter in the long run. Why? Because this novel was able to give me something I don’t often receive and it left me oh so satisfied. No, the author did not send an order of Little Caesar’s crazy bread to my door (hey, there’s still time...), but she DID gift me with a fan-freakin-tastic ending. I had flashbacks to The Kind Worth Killing, and if you’ve read that gem, you know this is a welcomed comparison. I don’t smile very often when I close a book, but I risked the unwanted additional fine lines for this guy. There’s always Botox, right?

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