Confessions of a Deathmaiden

Not content to just knit my way to, through, and back from Ohio, I ran out and bought a quick read that had been on my list for a few weeks, Confessions of a Deathmaiden, which had a cool title and a great front-flap review: a midwife to the dying who helps people cross-over is set-up in the murder of a child and has to discover who the real killers are to exonerate herself and her sister-hood. The story was certainly that, but it was generally lacking in much of anything interesting, despite the fictional deathmaidens who come off as impotent spiritualists who have to give up on everything worldly to be able to do their work and who, by definition of their work abhor organ donation. I mean, how do you turn organ donation into a bad thing? And their work is a bit wonky, even for my liking, and I like stuff like that. Deathmaidens are called to help guide the dying through the use of therapeutic touch and other alternative medicine venues, visualizing the dying through colors and forms to determine if they're ready to move on or if they're lagging and need directions, which they help provide.
Anyway, the story winds in and out of southern California and most chapters can't be finished without a description of something the chick ate for dinner. Then it takes a weirdo turn and she ends up being tortured in a South American prison while on some Mayan artifact quest. The whole thing made me wonder if I wasn't reading The Celestine Prophecy all over again.
All in all, I'd have to recommend a pass on this one.