“You know,” she continued, “we all know the realities of this life. We know that a great many of us will end up on the tables in a Medical Examiner’s Office like yours; into the hands of strangers. We can only hope that someone around cares about these bodies that we once bathed and fed and lived in so completely. We can only hope for some modicum of respect."

‘The family’ knew things other people didn’t. For instance, we knew where there weren’t fences by the railroad tracks… we knew the secret places that people went to walk into moving trains and end their suffering. We knew most of the buildings downtown with roof access for suicidal swan divers (or swan-diers, as we sometimes called them.) We knew that when it was your time— it WAS your time, and even if that meant getting hit in the head while walking down the sidewalk by a flying hubcap from forty feet away, then so be it. We knew all the secret places junkies punched their hypos into; places only the deceased and their lovers (maybe) only previously knew— like a scarred road-map on their skin marking the descent of their addiction. We knew that some high-powered business men wore satin women’s lingerie under their suits; until un-foreseen deaths revealed them on our stainless steel undressing tables.  

We knew more, much more, horrid things— things most people didn’t even know existed. That was why we were a family.

“See how he introduced himself as Howard, not Doctor Bonney?” Shemaiah asked. “That’s because he understands the way we normally get treated back here. He wants you to know that he is a person not all wrapped up in his own game. He ain’t like the rest of these over-educated assholes.” He leaned closer to me and looked around to make sure that no one else was listening, “There’s some people in this building who didn’t wanna see a woman back here, but I’m not gonna name any names. Yesss-sir! They sure don’t like seeing black folk round here neither, but here I am, baby. Bastards!” He snorted and stomped his feet as he talked himself into quite a froth. “People round here got no respect. You’ll understand when they turn on you… and whooo boy, will they ever.” 

This is a great read - not because it is about dead people, morticians, or CSI, but because the story hits upon a lot of the difficult issues that Human Resources people have to deal with (or in the case of the story, should deal with but don't) - personnel issues that poison an organization. It was really interesting, full of colorful descriptions, and would be perfect for college Management classes or Human Resources classes to read and discuss.

I didn't expect this. It is difficult to walk with Louise through what at first seems to be inescapable tragedy. She losses her way; she hardens; questions her past, present, and even her saneness. This chapter of Louise's life closes off and puts a light on the reality that "While it is true that there a thousand awful to die, it must also be said there are a thousand more awful ways to be alive." Stunning read!

Like her first novel I could not put it down. It is less about the mysteries of working with the dead than about human relationships. The book shows the unfortunate darkness and anger that some humans hold so close. The disappointment of "what could have been" is an ever present theme though HOPE reigns eternal!

This book is a must read for anyone who has ever spent 9 to 5 (or longer) in a dysfunctional work place. As a woman working in a predominately male dominated field this story also deepened my respect and admiration for the female pioneers (like the author) who plowed the way for the rest of us... The candid insight into the world of forensic medicine is just a bonus for us CSI fans!