Cutting Corners is a tight, well written story that has joined ‘The Sands Motel’ in my permanent collection – give it a try.
Denis Bernicky - themysterysite.com
Praise for Kindellan-Sheehan:
“Warmth and humour … elevate Cutting Corners from a simple morality tale to engaging novel.”
Layla Dabby - Montreal Gazette
The Donovans seem to have it all: family, friends, wealth, education. But that doesn’t make them invincible. When tragedy strikes this prominent Montreal family, each is left alone to struggle with a changed life. Death snaps...
READ MORE... patriarch Frank Donovan out of his comfortable routine of legal success and domestic happiness. His wife Maggie is distraught and uncommunicative and his daughter Caitlin is consumed with agonizing guilt. There are other menacing forces at work, too. Caitlin, having survived dangerous adventures in Florida, is angry, vengeful and willing to take risks to expose and convict a devious killer. Visiting American Mike, on the verge of romance with Caitlin, may not be able to let go, regardless of what has changed. And Frank has secrets of his own… Cutting Corners is a tight, emotional thriller and a follow-up to Kindellan-Sheehan’s bestselling The Sands Motel.
Chris took his time walking up Wood Avenue, pulled off his navy Polo vest, rolled it and carried it in his hand. The day had been perfect, he thought, but this time alone was the best part of it. All around him, the air was misty with summer heat and blanketed with the night. He could not remember such warmth at the end of April. Smiling to himself, he threw back his head and sang his favourite song, Bob Seger’s ‘Like a Rock.’ That’s how he felt, hard and strong, with doors, waiting for him to walk through. Being away for three years at Harvard had given him his independence; being home had brought him to the heart of things.
When he reached Sherbrooke Street, the light was red. Caitlin would have darted across the street, but Chris waited. Sometimes late at night, oh, when I’m bathed in the firelight, the moon comes calling in a ghostly white, and I recall, I recall! He was singing those words as he crossed the street and he never heard the barrelling approach of the grey Mazda 3. At the last instant, he turned to see the shadow of the car before it struck him. In seconds, there was nothing more to build on in Chris Donovan’s life. The swiftness of the blow had spared him the final, agonizing moments when the knowing is everything. It would take Chris almost two hours to die as he lay sprawled behind a ticketed parked car.