Novel Review: House of Secrets by Tracie Peterson

            The time I post these are always contrary to the time I write them. FYI, it is currently 1:48 AM. I—cannot—sleep.

            To the matter at hand.

            Now. Normally when a normal person reads a fantasy book, they feel the need to go back to the real world with a life-fiction, as I call them. For me, it’s the other way around. I can only take so much life-fiction before I have to delve back into the realm of the speculatively concrete world of fantasy, where anything is possible. To test a popular CBA author, I wanted to read one of her most recent books that my mother just so happened to have (thanks, Mom!). House of Secrets by Tracie Peterson . . . the cover entranced me. Usually books have elaborate layouts with inset text giving reviews or little teaser taglines. Not House of Secrets. The cover is simply three sisters holding each other in a family embrace, their backs turned to the viewer, and a forest in front of them. The title and author’s name are simply typed onto the picture in such a plain way, I was immediately drawn to the novel. Which is unusual, considering a year ago, I probably would have never considered this book to be on my TBR list.

            Anyway, to the writing. Bailee Cooper, the main character and oldest Cooper sister, had a distinct-ish voice. You could tell that she was trying to keep the family secrets and keep her sisters safe from what she thought would harm them. However, something about her felt a little too plain. A little too . . . expected. This was the case with most of the characters in the novel. Too much expectedness.

            A lot of the book involved talking, too. I mean, don’t get me wrong; novels are comprised of 85% dialogue. It’s what moves the story forward. But a little action now and then wouldn’t hurt, and I’m not talking about cooking a simple meal. Yeah, that’s action, but when the meal is alluded to instead of some talking while cooking (seeing as how the sisters had some special spaghetti recipe) irked me. Instead the talking was done mostly around seating areas and the seaside. These intimate spaces served well for the dialogue exchange but impeded any real movement that could have added to both the characters’ personalities and the story’s lack of action.

            Dialogue aside, there were few twists, and the one I didn’t completely see coming wasn’t all shocking because I had a niggle about it anyway. I think that Geena, the second-oldest Cooper sister, should have been diagnosed with their mother’s psychological disease to make things more intense. Geena could have added a lot of tension with normality one second, craziness the second. That would have been a twist we wouldn’t have seen coming but only suspected, because Piper, the youngest Cooper, displayed signs of the illness (I won’t tell you what it was in case you want to read the book). It turned out that Piper only had hypothyroidism, not the mental illness, but Geena should have had it. I can only grieve the lost action and detail that could have been added, the tension that could have smoked things up.

            Now, these aren’t the major reason I had a problem with the novel. My biggest irk was the romance plot. It—was—blatant—and—obvious. Bailee hardly struggled with herself, Mark seemed far too perfect to be human, and their kiss? Pah. I expected fireworks. I got a sparkler. A good novel is supposed to make you feel. I felt nothing. I wanted more heat, more struggle, more undeniable passion that made the two unable to stay away from each other, but Bailee could have fought against that even more and made the first kiss that much more explosive! Sadly, it didn’t happen.

            All in all, I wouldn’t call House of Secrets a bad book. It was good to read. Easy. But it didn’t challenge me. Not in life or faith or writing skill. And I never got punched in the face. (A good book always punches you in the face somehow.) Tracie Peterson kinda fell flat on this one, folks. Five flipped pages out of Ten.