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West, Book three of the Go Love Quartet, closes the circle initiated when Josephine Stepwell made the star-crossed decision to head West with the outlaw husband who’d lied up one side of her heart and down the other. Now, her granddaughter, who grew up sneaking peeks at a dwarf uncle’s photo and all the other Washers hidden in her father’s black Bible, runs away from her Utah home to Arizona, where she meets Davey the Dwarf in a south side Tucson bar catering to washed up professional wrestlers.
There, with fellow dropout non-Mormon Jack, she is reunited with her long lost kith and kin, standing in for her father who’d long ago promised the blood father he’d never met that he’d return. Only he never did. In the mean time, grandfather Buddy’d died, was buried in a cemetery with all the rest of the Washers, and it’s there the circle finally closes, with champagne and hard words at the grave side.
Steeped in the Stepwell catastrophes of love, West interweaves the strands left hanging in the Quartet’s first two novels. It offers healing and, finally, peace to those who have departed in a world of hurt.
What They’re Saying
“…a storyteller whose sentences make you want to clap with Saturday night’s hullabaloo and Sunday morning’s holiness.”—Dale Ray Phillips, My People’s Waltz
“…Gills gives us deep blood ties and profound betrayals. He understands both the need to belong and the drive to escape.” —Donald Hays, The Dixie Association
“…This book is a reminder that we Americans still live on a continent that recently was a wilderness, and that we all possess an atavistic need to interact with it.” —Diane Wakoski, The Diamond Dog
“…Gills’s energy bursts from Southern storytellers who love angry women, who shoot you straight, and who know no matter what brutes we are, we are still made of stars and we can heal each other.” —Heather Ross Miller, Champeen
“Michael Gills’s hellbent and dream-filled characters …show more soul than a wagonload of do-gooders.” —George Singleton, The Half-Mammals of Dixie
“…Radiates like a great old myth, and carries us along with a novel’s momentum and a lyrical, sensual voice…” —Marjorie Sandor, Portrait of My Mother, Who Posed Nude in Wartim