Business owners die, heirs sell, and companies disappear. It happens all the time. But, when Grayson Quinn’s mentor Big Bill passes away – and his daughters quickly decide to sell off their father’s legacy – the burden of saving the company and the livelihood of so many others falls to Grayson.
To succeed, he must accomplish the seemingly impossible. It will take all of Grayson’s ingenuity to overcome insanely bad marketing, negotiate without money, and outwit obnoxious competitors who want to buy the company and steal his business, not necessarily in that order.
Hidden motives drive critical decisions, as Grayson is caught in the middle with little understanding of anyone’s true intentions. Business as usual is his directive to anyone who will listen, but there’s nothing usual about the final days of Martlet Visionary Products.
Business owners die, heirs sell, and companies disappear. It happens all the time. But, when Grayson Quinn’s mentor Big Bill passes away – and his daughters quickly decide to sell off their father’s legacy – the burden of saving the company and the livelihood of so many others falls to Grayson.
To succeed, he must accomplish the seemingly impossible. It will take all of Grayson’s ingenuity to overcome insanely bad marketing, negotiate without money, and outwit obnoxious competitors who want to buy the company and steal his business, not necessarily in that order.
Hidden motives drive critical decisions, as Grayson is caught in the middle with little understanding of anyone’s true intentions. Business as usual is his directive to anyone who will listen, but there’s nothing usual about the final days of Martlet Visionary Products.
The years are too short, the days are too long.
- Joseph Heller
Successful business people die all the time. It happens. For some, that eventuality is devastating. For others, it’s a joyous occasion. Grayson Quinn fell into the former camp. His longtime mentor, Big Bill Nolan, had recently passed away. That’s life, or more specifically, that’s death. But, not all deaths are equal. Some deaths are like the last chapter of a gripping novel, with the dying protagonist surrounded by loving family members and all storylines pleasantly resolved. Other endings resemble the power going out in the middle of your favorite TV crime drama. Big Bill’s death fell into the latter camp. Regardless of the abruptness of its ending, Grayson cherished his relationship with Big Bill, who had reciprocated the sentiment, treating him as a son for the past twelve years.
Big Bill’s daughters were initially distraught as well but found the strength to move on. For them, “finding strength,” and “moving on” entailed selling their father’s company, quickly. That recent revelation isn’t a surprise to Grayson. He assumed that they wanted to own a technology company about as much as their father wanted to drop dead of a heart attack while fishing on his favorite lake. That description of Big Bill’s final moment on this planet still haunts Grayson. At the funeral, many expressed a common opinion: “At least he died doing what he loved. That’s a blessing.” Grayson thought they were all full of shit. Who wants to die doing what they love? Big Bill spent plenty of time hashing out reserves with finance, reviewing lengthy contracts, and sitting in excruciatingly long engineering meetings. Those would have been great times to die, not right as his chartreuse dual-blade spinnerbait splashes perfectly next to a submerged stump. Life can be unfair. So can death.
Companies selling through a formal bidding process somehow produce certain uncertainties, as well as uncertain certainties, which are confusing distractions, both in application and categorization. Knowing when you will sell, but not knowing to whom, or what it means to you, fuels unhealthy speculation. Grayson witnessed this scenario play out at other companies, so he knew that being part of a business openly courting suitors is a bit like being a participant in an arranged marriage. You’re not sure what you’re going to get, but you’re damn sure that whatever it is, you’re stuck with it. That didn’t concern him, though. It wasn’t his job to sell the company. It was his job to steady the ship with important customers during these tumultuous times, and for a vice president of sales, “steady the ship” meant hit the fucking number for the quarter, always.
Acquisition rumors travel at lightning speed in every industry but are exceptionally fast in the technology space. It would be ironic if that weren’t the case. Rumors about Martlet Visionary Product would be on the streets soon if they weren’t already. Grayson couldn’t stick his head in the sand and pretend nothing was happening. He understood the importance of addressing things head-on. As his longtime mentor once told him, the absence of information leaves a void that people fill with negativity. “You best fill it yourself with something positive before they fill it for you. You won’t like what most assholes fill it with.” Like most of Big Bill’s lessons, Grayson immediately committed it to memory, profanity and all. He dusted off that pearl of wisdom while crafting his plan for the quarter.
It was day twelve of a long road trip to visit MVP’s top customers. Grayson branded the excursion, “The Sunshine Colonic Tour,” which, metaphorically speaking, was spot-on. The first eleven nights were successful. Customers understood that MVP would be sold and accepted Grayson’s logic on why that shouldn’t concern them. Tonight was the last meeting of the trip. Grayson was dining with his good friend and largest customer, Kai Montgomery. They were close, close enough for Grayson to enjoy irritating him.
The group barely took their seats as Grayson slammed a $100 bill in the middle of the table and carefully placed the salt shaker on top of Benjamin Franklin. As usual, he managed to kick off the contest with a perfect blend of aggression and panache. He flashed a devious grin at Kai. “You do recall that you’ve never won this game, right?”
“Goddamn it, Grayson. I know I’ve never won, but I like my chances tonight.” Kai smiled, unable to even feign a hint of anger.
Kai Montgomery is one of the largest category directors for Westfield Road Distribution, a big A/V distributor based in Pennsylvania. They are an employee-owned company with over $1 billion in annual revenues and are the go-to distributor for high-end commercial and residential integrators in the northeast. Kai’s part of the business represents over $200 million, so he is a very important man, with vendors lined up around the block to kiss the ring.
“Are you ready to order some drinks?” said a haggard waitress as she slowly waddled into the picture, looking like she was at the end of a 20-year shift. Anxious to get the evening started and presumably over with, she showed no interest in the $100 bill sitting in the middle of the table.
“Give us two minutes.” Grayson politely waved her off as he focused his attention on the salt shaker and Benjamin Franklin, trying not to make eye contact with Kai. That was the only way he could successfully land his sarcastic question with a straight face. “Do you remember the rules, Kai?”
“Of course, I remember the rules.”
“That’s not going to stop me from repeating them.” The table burst into laughter as the underlings enjoyed another playful exchange between the two senior leaders holding court. Kai brought three of his buyers to enjoy a nice meal at Barclay Prime, one of Philadelphia’s finest steakhouses. Grayson brought his National Accounts Manager, Jimmy Iwu. The tag-alongs would all enjoy a great meal, but make no mistake, this night was all about Kai and Grayson.
“The rules are simple. There’s a $100 bill sitting right here on the table. If you can make the waitress laugh more than me tonight, it’s yours. If you can’t, I keep it.”
“I told you I remember the rules.”
“Do you want to check the serial numbers on the bill?” Grayson covered his face with a napkin to keep Kai from seeing him crack up.
“No, I don’t need to check the goddamn serial numbers. I know it’s the same $100 bill from the last four times.”
Grayson insisted that Kai take a picture of the bill the first time they stumbled on to this contest years earlier. Proof of the original bill’s serial number was buried somewhere deep on Kai’s phone. Grayson never used the same $100 bill twice but he always invited Kai to find the picture and compare numbers. The fact that Kai never checked just reminded Grayson of how convincing he could be.
The waitress was back with pen in hand and her face buried in an order pad. “Ready for some drinks now?” She displayed a wrinkled, expressionless glare, perfectly complemented by a graying, Dorothy Hamill haircut. Most of this evening’s patrons probably weren’t even born when Dorothy Hamill was a thing. Too bad. The waitress was probably pleasant back in 1976. Now, her demeanor resembled that of a person burning off court-ordered community service hours. She would be a tough nut to crack, but fate had unwittingly made her the judge in this evening’s game. The contestants would just have to make do.
Kai didn’t wait to get on the board. “Can I get a Shirley Temple?” She wrote it down with little reaction. Kai frowned, expecting to get some love from that line. Undaunted, he doubled-down. “Can you put a little Oxycodone in there?” He punctuated his clever line with an enthusiastic smile, begging for a laugh as the waitress just scowled at him. Evidently, opioid addiction jokes wouldn’t land with her tonight.
Grayson let everyone else order their drinks and then attempted to grab the lead.
“Do you have any Glenfiddich?”
“Yes, 12-year old.”
“What about Glenmorangie?”
“Yes, 18-year old.”
“How about Glenn Frey?
The waitress offered a small smile at the effort. “No, we don’t have any Glenn Frey.”
“Well then, what do you use to make a Hotel California?” That got a big reaction from the waitress, who was undoubtedly old enough to get the Eagles reference. Grayson was off and running. He exchanged smiles with Kai, who was already shaking his head in anticipation of another losing performance.
After Grayson ordered a glass of the Glenmorangie, he instructed the waitress to bring a sampling of appetizers for the table. She quickly disappeared, allowing him to move the conversation to more conventional subjects for a business dinner. “How’s your year shaping up, Kai?”
“We’re up year-over-year but a little behind plan. We should end up alright by year-end, but we’re a private company that isn’t for sale, so we look at things more long-range than quarterly.” Kai smirked at Grayson, signaling that he was very much in-the-know about what was happening at Martlet Visionary Products.
“So, you’ve heard the rumors then?”
“Yes. Is it true? Is MVP really for sale?”
Grayson welcomed the question and had his talking points prepared. He gave Kai’s penetrating inquiry a moment to breathe, pretending to seem perplexed by contemplatively gazing into the distance. After a few seconds, he sighed, looking directly at Kai.
“Well, I’m only the Vice President of Sales, so they don’t tell me everything. But, I can tell you that since Big Bill died five months ago, things have changed around the office.”
“Changed in what way?”
“Big Bill founded our company twenty years ago, and he was a giant personality whose shadow permeated everything we did. He left a huge void. We’re still sorting out who picks up which pieces.”
“What about succession planning?” Like most of MVP’s largest partners, Kai was most interested in this topic.
“His wife, Eva, died of breast cancer three years ago. He has two daughters, Kennedy and McKenna. The sisters now own the company.”
“How does Leland get along with them?” Kai barely knew the MVP President, Leland Booth, but had developed a great respect for him based on his conversations with Grayson.
“Leland gets along with everyone. He’s probably the most affable person I’ve ever met and one of the smartest.” Grayson wasn’t posturing to support his president. He truly felt that way about Leland.
“I thought you were talking about me for a minute there.” Kai grinned, attempting to coax a response from the table. His team quickly complied with a smattering of courtesy laughter, but Kai had unknowingly set up Grayson for the first of many acerbic comments throughout the evening.
“You’re not even in my top ten of affable, smart people. Hell Kai, you’re not in anybody’s top ten. You realize that, don’t you?” That cracked up the table long enough for Grayson to polish off his Glenmorangie.
Kai sulked while attempting to get the table back on point. “You never answered my question. Are you for sale?”
Before he could respond, the disinterested waitress was back. “Those apps will be out any second. Are you ready to order dinner?” Once again, she buried her face in her order pad and didn’t seem to care that the opioid comedian was in the middle of a conversation.
Grayson looked at the $100 bill on the table and then smiled at Kai, who immediately understood the game was back on. Jimmy led off by ordering a New York strip steak. Kai’s three team members each ordered steak as well, while Kai waited his turn and then enthusiastically unveiled the line he’d been rehearsing for days.
“Do you have any vegetarian steak?”
He honestly thought that line was hilarious. That was Kai’s problem with this game. He just wasn’t funny. Undoubtedly, he was the only person who hadn’t figured that out yet. When you control the purse strings on a $200 million budget, a lot of salespeople laugh at your jokes. Kai had failed to connect the dots on that fact.
“Vegetarian steak? Yes, we do. It’s called fish.” Clearly, the waitress had it with Kai. He went on to try another prepared line or two, eliciting no reaction. With another loss inevitable, he decided to go scorched earth, sharing all the health and humanitarian reasons for avoiding red meat. He emphatically waved his hands in the air, extolling the virtues of a pescatarian lifestyle. After symbolically pulling the ripcord on the evening’s contest, he ordered a grouper fillet and ended the uncomfortable exchange. Unfazed, the waitress looked at Grayson indignantly and asked, “Are you some sort of conscientious vegetarian too?”
“No, I don’t have any moral issues with eating beef. I just assume the cow was an asshole who had it coming.” The waitress roared with laughter at that line.
Grayson winked at Kai, who shook his head in defeat. The contest was over, but Grayson wanted to pour it on a bit. Might as well bury Kai further in front of his team.
“I do have a question about the menu. Is your salmon farm-raised or wild?”
“Farm-raised, but it’s excellent. It’s our most popular dish besides steak.” The waitress glanced at Kai in recognition that the opioid comedian had ordered the wrong fish.
“Not wild, huh? Can you at least make sure that my serving of farm-raised salmon had a bad attitude, maybe a general lack of respect for authority, or perhaps daddy issues? You know what I mean, a real son-of-a-bitch? I want to taste the wild in there somewhere.”
The waitress topped her last laugh. “Yes, I’ll personally pick out the worst one for you.”
As she left, Jimmy reached for the $100 bill and started to gently pull it toward Grayson. The evening was young, but the game was over. Kai’s team was laughing as he finally recognized the obvious.
“Just pick the damn thing up already. You won this round, but I’ll get you next time.”
Grayson enjoyed a reputation as a gracious loser, but an obnoxious winner. He wouldn’t alter that perception this evening. “Shirley Temple? Vegetarian steak? That was your big play for the evening?”
“It was good material. She just didn’t have a sense of humor.”
“Kai, I think your big problem with this game is that English is your second language and you might miss some of the subtle nuances necessary to be humorous.”
“Fuck you, Quinn. You know I was born and raised in Philadelphia.”
“That’s exactly what I meant. You were born in Philadelphia.” Another big laugh for Grayson, even from the other native Philadelphians at the table, who may not have realized they were also being insulted.
“I believe there was still an open question on the floor.” Kai seemed tired of all the humor at his expense and decided to play traffic cop with the conversation again.
“Yes, we are soliciting offers now and will be sold in the near future.” Grayson didn’t see any point in prolonging the conversation. Better to earn points for transparency.
“Jesus. Most vendors would have lied about that.”
“Not my style.” Grayson was 100% truthful. He separated himself from other industry executives with his honesty. Not just honesty, but brutal honesty. He’d say things to customers that other vendors didn’t dare attempt. Something about his personality resonated with people and kept them wanting more. He didn’t understand it, but recognized the phenomenon and used it to his advantage.
“Why are the sisters selling?”
“They’re both in their mid-twenties and each own half of a business that they don’t want, in an industry they hate. It also doesn’t help that they can’t stand to be around each other.”
“So, the sisters don’t get along?”
“Not really. The funny thing is, I remember years ago when they were in school. They used to do their homework in Big Bill’s office. They didn’t get along then either. They’re both smart young women; they just don’t want to work together and don’t have a passion for our business. They seem to have come together on the idea of getting top dollar for our company, though. Big Bill would be damn proud of his girls on that front.”
Big Bill grew MVP into one of the largest smart technology companies in the home automation space. Knowing his daughters wouldn’t want to run the business after he stepped aside, he brought in Leland Booth two years earlier to make sure there was a solid transition plan. It was essential to Big Bill that the company continue to flourish after his eventual departure. He wanted to ensure every one of his loyal employees kept their job. The plan was to sell the company next year, but unfortunately, his body was on a different timetable. Seconds after his chartreuse dual-blade spinnerbait splashed perfectly next to that submerged stump, the fortunes of so many changed. Five months had gone by, but it still seemed like last week to Grayson.
“Who do you think will buy you?”
Grayson didn’t want to play the speculation game but felt compelled to drive home a point about any potential suitor. “I honestly don’t know, but whoever it is will pay a high multiple. I can guarantee that.”
“Your financials are that good?”
“They are, and trending in the right direction.”
“Good. I hope somebody overpays for you and keeps the entire group intact.”
Perfect. That’s where Grayson was steering the discussion, and Kai got there quicker than most. He didn’t want customers worrying about who might purchase MVP. Whatever company bought them would pay through the nose and need to keep the company intact to support their investment. Business-as-usual would be Grayson’s mantra in the coming weeks.
The appetizers and entrées were spectacular. Everyone cleaned their plates and earned dessert. Correction, almost everyone. Kai had prearranged that his group would leave before dessert to give him some private time with the MVP team. They thanked Grayson for the meal and exited well before the waitress could make it to the table with dessert menus.
Grayson and Jimmy were running on fumes. This was the last stop before heading home on an early morning flight. The food was great, just like the last eleven nights, but the truth was that high-end restaurants quickly got old. Grayson would have preferred a Whataburger drive-through and a reasonable bedtime. That was still a couple of days away.
Things wouldn’t get any easier for him tomorrow. He had an early flight to Dallas and an afternoon meeting with Leland. Presumably, he’d update the president on his two-week expedition, the upcoming Whitehorn pitch, the quarterly revenue outlook, and whatever else Leland wanted to grill him on. But, the truth was that he didn’t know what Leland planned to discuss and that worried him. He needed a full night’s rest to be sharp tomorrow. Grayson wasn’t a religious man, but he was silently praying Kai didn’t want to be “Kai” tonight. Hopefully, he had a full day scheduled tomorrow and didn’t want to drink Philadelphia dry.
Kai patiently watched his final employee clear the restaurant before announcing his plan for the evening. “Alright gents, I punted my team, and I’ve got some money I’m mad at. Let’s hit the strip club.”
Grayson’s head sunk before Kai even finished his statement. Without looking at him, he offered a tepid response. “It’s a weeknight, Kai.”
“Strippers gotta eat seven days a week too.” Kai was shoehorning in a bastardized quote from one of his favorite Clint Eastwood movies, The Outlaw Josey Wales.
Grayson stalled, thinking up an exit strategy. “Don’t you want to order some dessert and just catch up? Let’s take it slow and see how the evening progresses.”
“OK, we’ll start here with dessert, but I already know where the evening will end. It’s at The Body Shoppe, which doesn’t close until four in the morning.”
“Jesus, Kai. I have a 6:30 a.m. flight tomorrow.”
“Perfect, you can go straight to the airport when the club closes.” He didn’t seem open to the idea of calling it an early night. “It’s not my fault you only come to town twice a year. I want to let the clutch out tonight.”
The waitress finally made it back to her favorite table and took their dessert orders. Jimmy ordered the carrot cake while Kai went with the key lime pie. Grayson tried to order two different dinner companions, which got another big laugh from the waitress but wasn’t on the menu. He finally settled on the apple pie and an espresso.
“What airline do you fly, Grayson?”
“I live right by DFW airport, so I have to fly American everywhere. The good news about living in Dallas is that you can fly American direct just about anywhere. No connections. The bad news is that everyone in town has status, and you can’t get upgraded.”
“Don’t you have some kind of lifetime status with American?”
“Yes. If you hit two million miles you earn platinum for life. I’m at 2.5 million miles so I’m platinum, just like everyone else in Dallas.”
Kai nodded, understanding of Grayson’s first world problem. “Before I came back to Philly, I lived in Atlanta and flew Delta all of the time. I hit 5 million miles in their program.”
“What does that get you?
“Divorced.” Finally, Kai earned a big laugh. Too bad. The waitress missed his humorous line.
The waitress delivered the desserts and espressos, which proved to be every bit as marvelous as the rest of the meal. Jimmy was groaning with pleasure on every bite of his carrot cake while Grayson tried to stay awake as he worked his way through a piece of apple pie. Kai was in heaven with his key lime pie until he stepped in a bear trap with Grayson.
“This key lime pie is pretty good, but there is this little place in Sea Island, Georgia that makes the best key lime pie I’ve ever had. I’m serious. Their pie will—”
“Damn it, Kai,” Grayson said, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t want to hear about your key lime pie in Sea Island, Georgia.”
“Why? Do you hate key lime pie for some reason?”
“I don’t hate key lime pie. I hate people who like key lime pie.” Grayson let that line settle for a second. “It’s because you’re all so goddamn pretentious. You can’t just eat your key lime pie and enjoy it. You need to give us the entire fucking history of every place you’ve ever had it and enlighten us on some obscure dive that serves the best version. Big surprise, it’s never the piece you’re eating in front of us. Nobody does that with any other dessert. It’s only you key lime pie assholes.” Grayson smiled while sharing one of his biggest pet peeves. He was glad to see Kai laughing at the exchange but genuinely felt that it was his mission to course-correct this annoying habit inherent in all key lime pie connoisseurs.
Kai calmly rocked back in his seat and stared vacantly at the ceiling. After digesting Grayson’s rant for a moment, he smiled and offered his response. “I never thought of it that way before, but see your point. Let me make it up to you by taking you to the strip club. I know Jimmy is up for it.”
Jimmy was in fact up for all events involving pretty girls. He was recently divorced for the second time and was now free to overtly chase any beautiful woman he wanted, although he never really saw marriage as an impediment to that practice. That fact was brought up in the divorce filings. Grayson tried to warn him about the consequences of his actions on many occasions but to no avail. To him, Jimmy was always a wink and smile away from losing half of his possessions in the next divorce. Grayson was just thankful that Jimmy was a social rock star with his accounts. He may not have taken to the role of domesticated husband, but he loved being an entertainment ambassador for his buyers. Grayson was thrilled to have him in that role. It usually meant fewer late nights for him. Not tonight, though.
Grayson did not want to stay out late tonight and he certainly didn’t want to go to a strip club with Kai or anyone else for that matter, but he felt compelled to acquiesce for reasons that would become clear to Kai in the coming weeks. He had big things planned for Mr. Kai Montgomery at the end of the quarter and wanted to make sure that he showed him a good time. His preference was that they frequent an establishment where everyone remained clothed, but concessions occasionally needed to be made for directors of purchasing who wanted to “let the clutch out.”
The three of them finally made it to The Body Shoppe around midnight. Evidently, Kai did have some money that he was mad at as he hastily disappeared into the VIP room with a harem of girls named Sage, Chastity, or some other traditional stripper pseudonym. Jimmy quickly decided to join Kai, leaving Grayson all alone with a determined parade of girls trying to encourage his wallet to make an appearance. Grayson loathed strip clubs but had to occasionally tolerate them as part of his job. He learned a defense mechanism years ago that never failed him. As the first lady approached him to offer her services, he simply asked, “Do you have any male dancers working tonight? They’re not too buff, are they? I’m more of a swimmer-physique kind of guy. Please send them my way.” Word quickly spread amongst the dancers, and they left him alone the rest of the night, at least until Kai made it back to the table and started ordering shots.
When the club finally closed, Grayson and Jimmy headed straight to the airport. Jimmy was more accustomed to late nights with customers and could rally quickly. Grayson wanted to throw up and die, not necessarily in that order. He hoped that he would sleep on the flight, but he wouldn’t. He had too many things on his mind, including the fact that he forgot to check in with the family yesterday. Surely, he would hear about this thoughtless oversight. That, however, wasn’t the most significant thing keeping him awake. The anticipation of the meeting with Leland kept his head spinning. No agenda or meeting subject? Leland always insists on those things. He is all about efficient time management and makes sure that every meeting has a defined purpose with a pre-published agenda. Why the hell did he schedule a meeting without clearly stating what he wants?
Grayson was clueless about Leland’s objectives for the afternoon, but he was damn sure that Leland wouldn’t be hungover. He wished he could say the same thing for himself.
Swimming with the Bishop takes readers behind the scenes of the politically correct, hyper-professional facade of corporate America. Jeff Costello absolutely captures the spirit of operating in the commercial business space behind closed office doors. He is impressively able to make revenue goals, press kits, marketing ploys, and HR training engaging and hilarious and introduces a complete roster of loveable employees and business owners that you will want to befriend in your daily life. The banter is quick-witted and laugh-out-loud funny, and the heartfelt bond between co-workers demands an emotional investment that the reader is happy to make. Costello has created unique characters that bring their own struggles and senses of humor to the table. He weaves their stories together in a busy but cohesive manner that paces this book like a busy day at the office and places the reader in the high-energy, fast-moving mindset that dominates this book. If the company in this book was hiring (and not a work of fiction) I would apply to work there with these people.
When I was in a business setting in this book, which was most of the time, I felt propelled forward to read more. The flow and pacing of the corporate scenes and dialogue are engaging and interesting and transpire with a smooth and natural cadence and rhythm. However, outside of these environments, the flow is interrupted with less developed characters and choppier writing. A perfect example of this is Jennifer, the main character, Grayson's, wife. Grayson Quinn is brilliant, hilarious, and excellent at his job. He loves his company and can read people and navigate complicated corporate situations with remarkable prowess and humor. I loved this character; I felt like I knew him and was incredibly invested in seeing him accomplish his goals. Jennifer, however, did not receive a personality from the author. I know that she is a "great cook" and that she and Grayson met in college. I found myself taken out of the story when scenes involved her because she felt like a stranger in a room full of people I actually cared about. And this kind of oversight is repeated a couple of times in the book. It basically felt as though the author stepped out of his area of expertise when he wasn't writing business-related content, and anything outside of that felt thin and under-developed. There are also some editing issues, typos, and writing crutches that could be cleaned up and areas where cultural depictions may read as insensitive.
For the most part, I really enjoyed this book. When it is on, it's really on, and I loved being immersed in those parts of the story. If I could give a half-star, this book would be a 3.5. It was definitely worth the read, and with some further character development and some writing clean-up, it could easily jump up to a 4 or even 4.5 out of 5.