The Ghosts of Belfast by Stuart Neville--just rips. Loved this book. It was weird to be possessed by this novel in lovely Santa Barbara, where we enjoyed the sun and good food and all the lovely people in fancy jeans. I ran on the beach and my workout app told me I had burned off the equivalent of two peaches. Didn't give me a break for running on sand--don't I get a chocolate cranberry scone for running on sand? Cripes! To hell with you, Droid workout app! [Note: the hotel had a waffle maker with a timer and a little cradle you flipped over after filling the separate waffle sections...it was so, so cool. My Droid did not know.]
