Alex McKelvey longs to fit in. She doesn’t realize that her earth-mother style—the connections she feels toward the earth and to a certain eerie pictograph panel—sets her off from the crowd. Wanting only to enjoy the beauty of the Utah desert, she packs up her gear and her Siberian husky, Kit, and joins an archaeological dig. But when the site’s owner vanishes, forces combine to sweep up Alex and Kit in a whirlwind of pot hunting, witchcraft, and murder. Who is that stranger who suddenly appears, styling himself on the folklore figure Coyote? His ability to draw the best—and the worst—from Alex leads her to the dismaying discovery that the villain she seeks is closer at hand than she had thought.

 Objects easily appear and disappear in Peck’s hands, and so do people. “Into the void,” the young magician writes on a sheet of paper. “What’s supposed to happen doesn’t” and “What’s not supposed to happen does.” That’s all the sense he can make of life, and the uncertainty produces hilarious results. The “theory of failed expectations”—if you can’t control the outcome, then roll with it. And roll he does, all the way to Puerto Villarta, Corfu, and Paris—letting life come to him rather than searching for the “divination of secrets.” In the end, he finds both.

“For the record, I am in this book and you are in this book. When they make the movie, it’s going to feature everybody. David Kranes writes from the marrow, and this novel is fierce and crammed with heart. It’s cerebral and cinematic, and if feels—like all of Kranes’ prose—like something new and something old. A man loves his life in the ways he can, and Peck’s ways are rich. I would say this book is about family and love and time. But it isn’t about something, it is something! If I were with you now, I’d put it in your hand. Wait, fortune, it has already appeared! So, now you’ll see what I mean.” —Ron Carlson, author of A Kind of Flying.