My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

That is never good. Never. The we need to talk and the I have to tell you something is always followed by news that you do not under any circumstances want to hear.

I couldn’t sit around alone for the rest of my life. I was two steps from adopting fourteen cats and giving up.

There was a sturdiness about Otis Bell that had always been appealing to me, and yet it was his vulnerability that did me in.

The truth was, I’d always been a charity case. My parents died when I was four, and from that moment on I’d been at the mercy of other people looking out for me.

“You’re beautiful, Mal.” … He didn’t say you look beautiful, but you’re beautiful. Somehow there was a difference, and it landed on me with substantial force.

 My Review:

I don’t know she does it but Jess B. Moore has magical skills, she writes from a dual POV with such keen insights, regardless of the age or gender, and transports me into her compellingly flawed characters’ lives as well as implanting me under their skin. I’m right there, either by their side or behind their retinas. I feel their uncertainties and annoyances while absorbing their inner musings. Her emotive tales conjure empathy and sympathy along with heart-squeezes, rapid blinking, and thoughtful reflection on her expert character development of not just the main characters but the secondary and tertiary players as well.

This installment featured an unlikely pair. Mallory was a fretful and fragile little bird who was riddled with insecurities and social anxiety. She strived to be independent but was in a near-constant state tension after her only friend moved hours away. She frequently felt awkward and worked at being invisible, yet she overflowed with kindness toward others. And she loved cats, how could I not adore her after she rescued an abandoned puss?   Poor Mallory had been cursed with a life-long crush on Otis, who had been a major anus toward her most of their lives. I wanted to give him more than a few swift kicks in a tender area for being such an ass, but he made up for it, eventfully, and gradually won me over when he finally stopped acting like a tool.

I am no fan of angst but, oddly, I don’t seem to mind at all when it comes to Ms. Moore’s captivating and perceptive scribblings.   The engaging storylines of The Chapel were relevant, original, well-crafted, and realistic, and seemed to keep me a bit on edge as Mallory was frequently tense. I enjoyed Otis’s sweetness once they fell into sync and hit their stride, and heard myself sigh contentedly at the stories end.   I can hear their fiddles, guitars, and mandolins being tuned and am already looking forward to my next trip to Bluegrass country.