The plot should have led to an amazing book. It’s 1976, it’s Dana’s 26th birthday, and things are looking good. She’s married to a white man named Kevin, they’re in their new home, they’re both ready to write more books, and things are really quite great.
Then she gets dizzy and wakes up near a river where she sees a white boy drowning. She leaps into the water to save him and is incredibly confused when a she turns and finds a gun pointed in her face with an angry white man yelling at her. Turns out she’s traveling to the past to the time of her slave ancestors.
And it was such a letdown. I wanted this book to be awesome, and it wasn’t and I’m sad.