This book took me a little time to get pulled into the story.  I think it was because of the unique writing style.  Instead of the recent adaptation of least amount of words to convey a thought – this author expands and enriches each sentence with adorning words to decorate the thought.  However, once I just let my mind go and enjoy the wording and phrases I was pulled in and pleased with the story.

This book is told from alternating first person perspectives.  We have Augusta, living in the town of her mother, raised by her Aunt and Uncle and now working for the Bookbinding factory.  And Lindsay, a visitor with a purpose of researching the history of the factory and with a bit of baggage back home.

The consistent presence of Quiche runs throughout the book and I believe accentuates the story parts.  Just like all fine quiches have base ingredients that remain stable but other ingredients that change the entire taste of each quiche, the story has the base of families but the variety of each and their dealings makes each one different.

My advice would be to savor this book slowly to enjoy all the flavors.

The author was kind enough to gift me a paperback of this book.  If you are in the US and would like to be entered for a chance to win my copy – just comment below.  Drawing on Friday, August 3, 2018 @ 9 am CST.

SUMMARY

An heirloom quiche recipe and baking rivalry turn up the heat within the French-Canadian mill town of Beauchemins, Rhode Island.  Rife with secrets and scandals–misconceptions, misdeeds, and maliciousness wreak havoc on those caught in the crossfire of a tragedy precipitated by reckless behavior.  Delving beneath the surface of fractured friendships, mother-daughter dysfunction, and romantic rifts:

Augusta Bergeron, the town siren who engages in morally destructive behavior for reasons of her own.

Lindsay Metcalfe, the historian-in-residence hailing from Boston, sets out to preserve the legacy of an impoverished mill and gets more than she bargains for all around.

Amidst the plot twists and turns, rub elbows with plain-spoken and unpretentious French-Canadians who call themselves “Canucks.”