When I started this novel, it almost unsettled me, but at the same time, I couldn’t put it down. There’s something about the writing style that is so raw and in your face. It’s almost a bit ragged, which makes it sound like my favorite pair of worn, frayed jeans instead of a story, but that’s the best word I can come up with to try to describe how I felt about it when I started reading.
Milcah has a lot of harsh edges and makes a lot of mistakes, but she’s definitely lovable (even when you want to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her). I’m often partial to characters who lean towards the dark side, put up walls, and have to battle a lot of inner-demons, so I definitely adored her.
And Callum is so freaking amazing. He’s positively delicious. Yu-um. I wanted to lick my Kindle. To be honest, I almost hoped he would leave Milcah for me. Just kidding! Kind of. . . 😉
On a more serious note, I had a friend who died young of breast cancer and also some family members who battled the disease with varying degrees of success, so I appreciated Milcah’s raw and less than traditional reactions to the disease and process. I’m glad she never acts like a poster child for breast cancer awareness. She handles her cancer in a very messy way that is rarely pretty, and occasionally misguided, but always feels honest.