Grady Green is an ambitious novelist, with little use for humanity apart from the pursuit of more readers, and his wife, Abby. He would like nothing more than to write, submit novels to his valued agent, Kitty Goldman, enjoy the company of his dog, Columbo, and relax with his wife, Abby. Abby is a hard-working journalist, specializing in stories of women who are wronged, victims of domestic abuse and other injustices that leave them vulnerable, traumatized, derailed. Grady and Abby started married life very happy, but have gotten into an unsatisfying rut of overwork, with no real connection. As Abby speeds home one night from work, eager to join Grady at their cottage, anticipating news of his first New York Times bestseller, she encounters a body in the road. Grady, on the cell phone with Abby, cautions her not to leave her car, fearful of a ruse, but Abby cannot refrain from helping someone in need. Grady runs to the coastal road to meet her, only to find her car, no victim, and no Abby. Her body is never found, only her coat on the rocks below.

So starts this suspenseful mystery by Alice Feeney, adept at twisting and turning the situation with every short chapter, amping the page-turning anxiety and overturning what you thought you knew repeatedly. Her pacing, inventive plotting, and character development of Grady and Abby are all very good, and make for an enjoyable, edgy, tense read. For Grady and Abby are not honest about their pasts, nor are they candid about their intentions, with each other or the reader. Savvy readers will suss out some of what is coming, but there are likely surprises for them, as well.

After two years with no Abby, wrung out with worry, unable to write, and broke, Grady is at the end of the line, desperate for a way to redeem himself and get on with his life without Abby. Taking pity, Kitty arranges for Grady to spend six months on a remote Scottish island, Amberly, living in a writer’s cabin left to Kitty by another writer, in his will. It is a beautiful, strange island, since all twenty-five year-round inhabitants appear to be women. This is gradually revealed to the reader, although it becomes apparent fairly quickly that this is highly relevant. I won’t reveal more, since the fun of the book is in each further revelation.

Here is my final observation, and cautionary note: we have yet another book that tries to sell the idea that when women exclude men, and create community without them, it is some kind of loving, utopian experience, free of crime, violence, even discord— women are naturally cooperative, and peace-generating. In my view, this is a load of hogwash. Women are not superior, and we engage in evil of every level, the same as men. Men’s evil is more testosterone-fueled, making it more violent and damaging; but women more than make up for it with insidious, treacherous acts. Neither gender is innocent; both are guilty of deceit and destruction, as well as goodness. I tire of the pervasive trope that women in community, apart from men, are somehow peaceful and good. Baloney! Enjoy this book for the beguiling way Feeney weaves her plot and characters into a wonderful head-scratcher, which comes delightfully unraveled at the end. However, leave the feminist politics aside— it detracts from an otherwise fun mystery.