There’s something about Deja Who that I could easily connect to watching a four-car pile-up; you know you should stop watching (or in this case reading) but you just can’t turn away. Now I’m going to preface this review with a disclaimer: I used to love MaryJanice Davidson. In the beginning, I loved Betsy and, despite what some reviewers say about Fred being a carbon copy of Betsy, I loved Fred.
There were moments in ‘The Gift’ that just swept me up. Similarly, there were moments of implausibility that ripped me out of the story. I found the concept of ‘The Gift’ fascinating. A woman who sees and interacts with souls and has always understood how the world operates. It’s not an entirely brand new idea. A woman who interacts with ghosts. I started reading this book with the likes of