That Ian Rankin thinks this is "Vivid, visceral, and compulsive" tells me all I need to know about him, because this plot has been done to death already. "After 30 years of marriage, grief-stricken Paula Gadd is slipped a note at her husband’s funeral. What does its unsettling message mean — and how well did she really know her husband?" Another story about another dumb woman whose husband had a deep, dark, and dirty secret. Gads how many dumb-ass women are there out there? Because this happens all the time. In fiction. Yawn. And that title? barf.
