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Michael DirdaThis is a fabulously entertaining novel. It's probably a trifle too long, the plot contains a number of improbabilities and it's easy enough to guess at least a couple of the revelations toward the book's end. But you know what? None of this matters. Michael Malone's prose—as smooth as a con man's patter—hooks you on the first page, and you're not going anywhere after that, except to your favorite reading chair or backyard hammock or vacation beach blanket. Malone possesses the only gift—according to Vladimir Nabokov—that a writer really needs: Shamantsvo, the ability to cast a spell, to enchant.
—The Washington Post