I could not get pass the verbose style of writing. Instead of being wonderfully descriptive and drawing the reader into the story, the writing style did the exact opposite and put me off both the main protagonist and the novel.
I saw her when she was ten years old; at a time I considered blowing my brains out—and not just because it would splatter nicely on the walls. This wasn’t a stroke of luck, it all began when my mother died.
Some might say I became obsessed. Others might see things differently.
A soulmate. A favorable outcome. A twist of fate.
Judge for yourself.