"This feels like an Ian McEwan novel.
She lives in New York City.. in American Studies from NYU. from Middlebury College and a Ph.
D.
She has a B.
A.
About author(s): Cree Lefavour is the author of several cookbooks, including the James Beard Award nominated Fish .
At once dark, funny, sad and suspenseful, LeFavour\'s debut is a rare find: a tart literary indulgence with depth and intelligence.
Matching keen observations on human behavior with wry prose, Private Means , with its sexy, page-turning plot, will draw fans of Nora Ephron and Meg Wolitzer.
By the time Labor Day rolls around, a summer that began with isolation has transformed into something else entirely.
Escaping the heat of New York City to visit wealthy friends in the Hamptons, on Cape Cod and in the Berkshires, each continues to play his or her part in the life they\'ve chosen together.
As the summer unfolds, tensions rise as Alice and Peter struggle with infidelity, loneliness, and loss.
A psychiatrist, he ponders his patients and one, particularly attractive, woman in particular.
For his part, Peter is pleased to have time alone--he\'s tired of the lost dog drama, of Alice\'s coolness, of New York.
Relieved to be alone, Alice isn\'t sure if she should remain married to Peter but she\'s built a life with him.
Alice stays in New York, desperate to find her dog, while her husband Peter drives north to stay with friends in the Berkshires.
It\'s Memorial Day weekend and Alice\'s beloved dog Maebelle has been lost.
A deliciously compulsive first novel from New York Times Editor\'s Choice author of Lights On, Rats Out , Cree LeFavour\'s Private Means captures the very essence of summer in a sharply observed, moving meditation on marriage, money, and loss.
Which is even better."-- Elizabeth Gilbert Spanning the course of a single summer, Private Means is acclaimed memoirist Cree LeFavour\'s sumptuous fiction debut--a sharply observed comedy of manners and a moving meditation on marriage, money, and loss.
But written by a woman.
I can\'t offer higher praise than that.
Served on a bed of Cheever. "This feels like an Ian McEwan novel
