Most of Kay Hooper's novels, the ones that made her successful, are thrillers that follow a strict formula: a serial killer, sometimes with psychic powers, being pursued by a government agent(s) with psychic powers. Usually this takes place in some podunk town where there is also a local with psychic powers to be guided by the agent. They fall in love, or so the text wants the reader to believe. After three or so I gave up reading Hooper's books because I couldn't tell them or the characters apart. Why, I wondered, couldn't she have a little more originality?
This book answers that question. Kay Hooper + originality = batshit insane. But in a lame and boring way. There are wizards. In Seattle. And reporters. And rape. And time travel. To At-fucking-lantis. And a ridiculously underdeveloped romance between a mighty wizard and his too-stupid-to-live apprentice, whom I have no idea why he didn't just kick to the curb years ago. The few supporting characters are totally cardboard: Ugly Rapists Yokels. Evil hedonistic promiscuous wizards. Stupid friends of TSTL heroine. Obnoxious alcoholic reporter. Even the rape victim isn't sympathetic.
I got this by accident years ago when trying to find Wizard of the Pigeons, which I could not at the time recall the name of. In the past decade or so I have only managed to read a little over half the book, a couple pages at a time before clutching my hair, exclaiming "arggh!" and returning it to the shelf. Today I skipped to the end, which harkened back to the plot she seemed to be introducing in the start, which has not been referred back to in over two hundred pages. Although this book is too awful to finish, it gets a second star because it is at least imaginative, and because Hooper uses the English language correctly, without the annoying mistakes in grammar and word usage that mark many recent books of this disposable sort.