
I didn’t read Elin Hildebrand’s Nantucket book this summer (was there one?), but I replaced it with The Book of Summer by Michelle Gable. I’m not sure where the book came from, but it’s been on my shelf for a while. And, it’s not Hildebrand, but it had that same summer vibe, so it worked for me. “For the first time in four years…Bess…visits the compound her great-grandparents built almost a century before, but due to erosion, the once-grand home will soon fall into the sea. Bess must now put aside her complicated memories in order to pack up the house and deal with her mother, a notorious town rabble-rouser, who refuses to leave….In the midst of packing Bess rediscovers the forgotten family guest book.” Was this book amazing? No. Was it a decent diversion? Yes. It was a bit too long, but wasn’t a terrible read.
