A friend from my book club recommended American Dirt, but she added this caveat. “It’s not right for our book club because there’s too much blood and gore.”
I bought the book on her recommendation, despite the blood and gore comment, and was hooked from the first paragraph.
The story begins with eight-year-old Luca and his mother, Lydia, crouching in the corner of a narrow shower stall while the clatter of bullets and a raft of screams give us some indication of what they are hiding from. Outside, Luca’s entire family is being massacred.
Luca tells himself this is a just a bad dream; the kind of dream that you awaken from, heart pounding, and when you realize you’re awake, you are flooded with relief that it was only a dream. But this isn’t a dream. It’s the beginning of a nightmare.
In these first few pages, I don’t know anything about Luca and his mother, but I’m drawn immediately into their story. I experience the terror, along with an emotional connection that has me rooting for mother and son.