"A twenty-first-century Highsmith, Virginia Feito conjures the unforgettable Mrs. March, an Upper East Side housewife whose life is shattered by her husband's latest novel. In this astonishing debut, the venerable but gossipy New York literary scene is twisted into a claustrophobic fun house of paranoia, horror, and wickedly dark humor. George March's latest novel is a smash. No one is prouder than Mrs. March, his doting wife. But one morning, the shopkeeper of her favorite patisserie suggests that his protagonist is based on Mrs. March herself: "'But... -isn't she...' Mrs. March leaned in and in almost a whisper said, 'a whore?'" Clutching her ostrich-leather pocketbook, she flees, that one casual remark destroying her belief that she knew everything about her husband--as well as herself. Suddenly, Mrs. March is hurled into a harrowing journey that builds to near psychosis, one that begins merely within the pages of a book but may uncover both a killer and the long-buried secrets of her past"--
George March's latest novel is a smash. No one is prouder than Mrs. March, his doting wife. When the shopkeeper of her favorite patisserie suggests that his protagonist-- a whore-- is based on Mrs. March herself, she flees. That one casual remark destroys her belief that she knew everything about her husband-- as well as herself. She snoops in his office, questions the reality of his "hunting trips" with his editor... and is disturbed by cockroaches and strange breathing noises. -- adapted from jacket