Review: The Last Will of Moira Leahy by Therese Walsh

The Last Will of Moira Leahy is as wonderful and lovely as the cover. It has suspense, mystery, romance, and magic. Above all, magic.

Twenty-five-year-old Maeve Leahy is haunted by the tragic accident of her twin sister, Moira, nine years ago. Since then, Maeve, the vibrant twin and saxophone prodigy, has shut down her emotions and shut out the music, leading a lonely and sterile life as a professor of languages in upstate New York. But she can’t resist the call of a keris, a Javanese dagger, that she buys at auction. The keris leads her to Rome, and to danger and romance and a confrontation with the past and the present.

The chapters alternate between the present in Maeve’s voice and the past in Moira’s voice. Walsh is an artist with words, using them exquisitely, painting pictures with a few strokes that evoke emotions. Yet the pace is quick, the scenes enchanting.

To show you what I mean, here are a few phrases from the book:

From page 33:

Her voice jangled like bones in their sockets as the sea lapped and sucked against the inside of the boat. She’d never felt more alone.

From page 88:

After Maeve left, Moira looked across the Penobscot at the burgeoning clouds on the horizon. She wished her arms would grow long enough to reach into them, that she could somehow move their dark shapes where she wanted, make it rain and thunder, make the air jump with lightning. Fly.

From page 176:

His scent was rich with complex notes–like air, earth, water, and fire, distilled and woven into his DNA.

This is Walsh’s debut book, and I’m thrilled to think she’ll have many other books for me to read in the future. Soon, I hope!