“I even found a realtor here in Broken Pine–a one-street town just past Postage Stamp, on the way to Bakeoven–who, once he figured out I wasn’t lost–at least not geographically–drove me around in his pickup truck and showed me the perfect place.” The perfect place for Kiva is a “classic farmhouse,” a falling-down, mouse-infested relic on the dry side of Oregon. What better place to hide away with the trunkful of cash she’s stolen from her drug-smuggling, soon-to-be-ex-husband Carlton? No one will find her here!
Except everyone does, including her husband, who decides she’s purchased the perfect safe-house for his operations, her estranged daughter, who may want to get even for being abandoned, her “ex-hippie” parents, who aspire to selling Thai sticks to seniors in casinos, and the “gorgeous hunk” who’s just crawled up out of the ravine in her backyard. And maybe the Feds, who are following her and listening in.
I hate to sound like a snake-oil salesman, but as with Morris’s novel Bombed, Of Mice and Money is a cure for what-ails-you. The pages crackle with her understated, self-deprecating humor. Like a snowball rolling down a hill, the story gets funnier as the quirky characters get more entangled in their bizarre goings-on.
If you enjoy the wacky humor of books like Skinny Dip, by Carl Hiaasen, or Lunatics, by Dave Barry and Alan Zweibel, you’ll find that Of Mice and Money delivers the goods. I personally feel it’s way, way better than Prozac, but I have to acknowledge, the FDA has not approved of this review. Enjoy!