Her, by Harriet Lane. When I saw it at the library, I felt compelled to pick it up. If you listen to the numerous accolades written about this novel you will be expecting something monumental and frankly, a whole lot better than what it turned out to be. The critics have called it "compelling," "gripping," "chilling," "captivating," "spellbinding," "mesmerizing," "nail-biting," and "haunting." It is true, I am haunted by the ending.
The teaser declares "You don't remember her - but she remembers you." It is billed as a story about a woman who recognizes someone who has done her wrong in the past, but the woman from the past no longer recognizes her. This woman goes on to stalk the dreaded person from the past, with the goal of revenging the long-festering ill done to her. Okay, I admit, I was pulled in. I was captivated. I felt compelled to discover what that horrible wrongdoing was and how it would be revenged. It seemed to take forever to get to the moment of reveal and revenge.
Oh my goodness! When I finally discovered just what this young woman unconsciously did (nothing to justify the revenge sought), and then when it ended the way it ended, I was beyond miffed. I was outraged. How horrible! How tragic! How unjust! I hated the main character. I cannot abide the idea of the numerous ways she sucked this unsuspecting woman into her present life and tortured her without any hint of what she was actually doing.
I cannot recommend this book. It does indeed haunt me. I cannot wait to read something positive and uplifting. I want to fill my brain with good vibes. This book was disturbing, to say the least. Yes, I turned pages fairly quickly, but if I could I would unread it!