Mapping Cherie Priest's Chattanooga: the Eden Moore trilogy

After reading Cherie's most recent work, Boneshaker, I was completely caught up in the north Pacific coast.

So I picked up her first book about Eden Moore and was completely blindsided that it was set in Chattanooga, Tennessee.  (Ha, I hear my friend Joe groaning.)

Eden was raised by her sister and brother in law on Signal Mountain (which I still count as a been-there, even if it was only a disastrous date with that guy who brought me pop-tarts in lieu of flowers). As she grows up, she is haunted by a trio of dead sisters, who give her parts of their story through dreams and visions - and they turn out to be her ancestors. Eden's family is about as open as a bridal shop in downtown Detroit, so she has to dig up what she can about the trio from an estranged, archaic great-aunt, who just happens to be harboring a homicidal nephew bent on wiping out Eden to end a family curse. (Say that sentence two times fast.)

Two foremost thoughts while reading:

"Hey, I've been there!"
"Hey, I think I just wet myself."

Seriously, these had some of the creepiest scenes I've ever read.  Bet you $5 you won't read that campground bathroom scene without getting seriously paranoid about semi-reflective surfaces.

Compared to what, you say? Uh, everything I've read in the last decade.  Yeah, it got me that good.

Here's the whole trilogy:

Book 1 - Four and Twenty Blackbirds

Book 2 - Wings to The Kingdom

Book 3 - Not Flesh Nor Feathers

I do plan to review the other books separately, but for the love of big words and small, difficult words, please don't wait on me! 

One last thing:  I can't shut up without praising this writer about the language she never chose to use.  At least a dozen times this year I've put a book down disgusted.  Now, I'm pretty sure you guys know I'm not a featherweight.  I'm hard to offend.  But I get tired of hearing characters talk about women's bodies like we're whores, and there goes my foot while I punt said book towards the window. I was ecstatic to find someone this good who didn't resort to vulgarity and call it verissimilitude.

That is all.

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