Roberts, Nora: Three Fates

While I was at the library over the weekend, I was primarily looking for brain candy: I was scheduled to go to a trial in Utica, an hour and a half away, for a couple of days, and I knew that I’d need something fluffy to read at night to decompress. (Just to watch and help my boss; I’m not admitted to the bar yet, so I don’t get to talk.) Nora Roberts’ Three Fates is about as fluffy as you can get and was perfect for the job.

I actually ended up reading it all last night, which turned out well because the trial ended today, a day earlier than expected. [We won. Decisively, in so far as one can win a trial decisively: the jury was out for only 45 minutes, which suggests that they hardly needed to deliberate, and the judge basically told the plaintiff not to bother with post-trial motions, since he didn’t have a leg to stand on. Which he didn’t. (Appeals are different from post-trial motions, and wouldn’t go to this judge.)] I hadn’t planned to read the whole thing in one night, but it’s such brain candy that it reads really quickly, and I wanted to be sure I was well and truly tired before I tried sleeping alone, in a strange bed, with a pillow made of spun rock, and with our case on for the next day.

The plot of this is almost beside the point (in a week I won’t remember anyone’s names, just wait). Basically, there were three statutes of the Fates (Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, those Fates). One of them was thought to have been lost when the Lusitania sank, but it was actually stolen just before the sinking by a petty thief, who reformed after his near-death experience but passed the statute down as a family heirloom. Then one of the heirs gets an inkling that this might actually be worth something, brings it to the villain for an appraisal, has it stolen by the villain, and then sets out with his two siblings to get it back, and track down the other two for good measure. And everyone falls in love, and the villain is eeeeevil, and eventually everything works out okay. The End.

This one does include nice caper bits, which I always enjoy even if I doubt Roberts’ research. I don’t believe in fate; I rather think it’s impossible for a materialist to believe in fate, actually. (Materialist as in physical matter is all that exists, not as in money money money.) However, this is one of the advantages of plowing through brain candy: potentially-annoying bits just fly right by and barely register.

I’m still a little hyper from the trial, even after driving back from Utica, so I think I shall stop babbling and go read some Brother Cadfael to calm down now. Yay, being home . . .

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