The House on Moody Avenue by Cellestine Hannemann

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I’ve spent a couple of weeks just trying to read this book. It isn’t that I haven’t been trying to read it, because I have. But it just seems to be one of those books I just can’t get into. You know the type – they look so good, but you can’t do it. You can’t read it. Maybe it was the cover that drew you in. Obviously that wouldn’t be the case with this book – the cover is rather plain and uninviting. In fact, since most readers I know find new books by finding gorgeous covers, I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to be one of those “I bought it for the cover” books.

I think a big factor in my inability to read it is that the description makes it out to be a history of the house and the things that have happened to the house. But when reading, it seems that the book refers more to the individuals living in the house over time and their experiences. In all honesty, it seemed to take forever just for the first person to move into that house. From there it just went downhill. This isn’t the author’s fault really, it’s more of a fault with the people responsible for making sure the book’s description properly matched the book.

I don’t really recommend this book. It was far too boring and didn’t fit its description at all.

I received this book for free from BookLook in exchange for my honest opinion. No other compensation was received and all opinions are my own.