2019 is off to a good start, especially since I picked a copy of Daniel Silva‘s latest bestseller, The Other Woman. He served up a scandalous, delicious and hard-to-put-down thrilling plot to his readers.
On a recent trip to Maine I wondered in one of Portland’s quint little bookshops to browse with nothing particular in mind I wanted to read. In fact, I told myself not to buy a new book, because, I was still working my way through John Grisham’s Reckoning. Grisham’s newest child would be another story for another time. Back to Silva.
Every bookstore has a front and center display of books they want you to see and hopefully buy. As a writer and a reader, I casually check out the display, but head straight for the back rolls of books, where I feel the more deserving authors but with less PR oomph are stored.
Sipping my caramel latte, purchased beforehand at Portland’s finest coffee shop, my eyes drifted toward Silva’s The Other Woman. My initial thought was ‘how dreadful, a spy writer venturing into romance. why?’ Without my knowledge and permission my hands made contact with the book and in an instance I was holding it, reading the flap, searching for an explanation for Silva’s betrayal to us.
It went like that: ‘In an isolated village in mountain of Andalusia, a mysterious Frenchwoman begins work on a dangerous memoir.’ I skipped a paragraph, continuing my exploratory mission.
“Long ago, the KGB inserted a mole into the heart of the West – a mole that stands on the doorsteps of ultimate power.”
My eyes watered with thirst, my curiosity kicked into high gear. A mole? KGB? Gabriel Allon? Yes, yes, yes.
In a trance state of mind, I happily handed the friendly cashier my credit card and after the transaction was approved, I had ended up with a new book to add to my ever growing collection. Then it hit me, right there as I was standing outside the bookstore, in the bitter cold Maine weather – a slight panicking feeling – a burning question in the back of my mind – that won’t stop nagging till I gave it a satisfactory answer – will it be worth it? – my mind insisted on asking me.
Turbulent and ruckus several days slipped by as I read The Other Woman. Gabriel Allon took me under his wing and without asking chauffeured me around the world to Spain, Isral, England and back home to the States, while he hunted for the mole.
The pages gave me what I wanted, a mind-bending game of espionage, laced with modern day plot that’s relatable and fresh. It’s worth dropping whatever book you’re reading at the moment and swap it for the Other Woman. You won’t regret it.
I’m giving it five OWLS because it’s exquisite and daring.
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