Crowfoot Ridge

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

Brandt makes a strong and steady impression with her debut novel originally self-published, exploring one woman's struggle to unlock the secrets of her past. Avery met her husband, Ken Kessler, in college in the '60's, and 18 years later, family and friends are still telling her how lucky she is to be married to the successful Florida real-estate developer. But Avery's not so sure. She's at odds with Ken over his company's anti-environmental greed and suspicious of his fidelity; their relationship has deteriorated to separate bedrooms. Avery's epiphanic crisis following a car accident makes her recognize that she's never lived in the present because she's never faced up to traumatic events in her youth. She decides to leave Ken and return to the site of her childhood joy and sorrow, Crowfoot Ridge in North Carolina, where she and her family vacationed every summer. Avery's best friend Sylva Marshall--whom she hasn't seen in 21 years--still lives there, as well as Sylva's brother Mars, the great love of Avery's life. It's also where, one horrible night, an act of violence occurred, necessitating lies and secrets that Avery feels she must now confront. Brandt skillfully paints the nostalgic and mournful picture of Avery's first love and friendships; the juxtaposition of slick Florida realtors with the more down-home mountain folk of North Carolina makes for rich and effective contrast. She gets the small details right as well, capturing the way Avery has idealized Mars and inflated his memory, and she draws multidimensional heroes and villains. Without becoming preachy, Brandt makes a persuasive case for dealing with the past in order to heal. Agent, Jillian Manus. Apr. FYI: When the publisher who had her novel under contract reneged, Brandt mortgaged her house to self-publish the book. She sent a copy to Manus, who sold it to HarperCollins within 10 days.

Kirkus Reviews

Everything is pitched just a mite too high in this first novel that was originally self-published: an Oprahratic weeper about a Florida woman's recovery from her life of ill-gotten wealth and comfort. Avery Baldwin is a successful realtor whose relationship with her Babbitish developer husband Ken Kessler hits the skids when Avery realizes how blithely Kessler Properties is trashing Florida's wetlands and wildlife habitats—and when memories of her childhood North Carolina vacations (in the hamlet of the title) tug her back to her old sweetheart Mars Marshall, who "released" Avery from loving him 30 years ago after his loutish father had sexually assaulted her and been slain, ostensibly by her best friend (Mars's daughter) Sylva, in what was then declared self-defense. This is the kind of novel in which a close friend comforts Avery as follows: "The separation may have caused your relationship with Mars to escalate out of proportion, especially in the eyes of naive teenagers and considering the intensity of first-love." Well, okay. Undaunted, Avery returns to Crowfoot Ridge for an emotional reunion with Sylva and an even more fervent one with Mars, now married (shades of Ethan Frome) to wheelchair-bound Beverly, a plucky soul who understands (everybody understands everything here) the needs of her husband's former girlfriend, and even considerately perishes, leaving Avery and Mars together. It's probably needless to say that long before the story, uh, climaxes, "Longing exploded into lust without containment and passion consumed them." And, just in case the sexual tension isn't high enough, the Marshalls own a tame parrot named "Pecker" (we're not making this up). DanielleSteel could not have improved on the ending, in which even the acquisitive Ken (remember him?) more or less reforms, and all the loose ends of Avery's past are braided neatly together.