Review: 48 Hours

48 Hours by William R. Forstchen
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I’ll be honest. The writing in this novel leaves a lot to be desired. Sentences structures are clunky and awkward, the rules of grammar poorly executed or ignored. Add to these affronts shallow characters and an over-dependence on themes of religion (a huge turn-off for me), and this novel should technically be a train wreck, right? So why, then, am I wide awake at 2 am, having raced through the pages, holding my breath and rooting for humanity?

48 Hours is an apocalyptic novel that is set against the backdrop of a solar flare that threatens a global “extinction level event”. Forstchen’s work often plays in this genre sandbox, where I’ve encountered several of his other books and subsequently developed an appreciation for many aspects of his style. Though his writing is not a showcase of eloquence and sophistication, he knows how to build suspense—and does so masterfully. He is able to climb almost imperceptibly to a climax and then refuses to hit the brakes until the sometimes bitter end. Additionally, I am consistently impressed with his ability to set his sights on a single goal and then steadfastly refuse to deviate from it. This tunnel vision serves him well and is reflected in an avoidance of unnecessary blather—a refusal to develop subplots that don’t fuel the major storyline (an author indulgence I find to be inexcusable in many pieces of contemporary fiction). Finally, Forstchen engages the reader by appealing to commonalities we share relevant to the human condition (including an innate fear of dying) and then asks us to consider what our own reactions would be given the direst of circumstances. In short, he makes it personal.

This is not the typical “prepper-hides-in-the-mountains-‘til-it’s-over” story so common to the genre. Although heavy-handed on the religious overtones and overt quoting of scripture by the characters, this book shines a light on human nature in adversity that transcends the ethics of organized religion and focuses on “the better angels of our nature”.


View all my reviews

Review: An Anonymous Girl

An Anonymous Girl by Greer Hendricks
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An Anonymous Girl by co-authors Hendricks and Pekkanen is at its core domestic noir—a suspenseful read with a plot that is unique, twisted and edgy. It is the strength of that plot that carries it past the weakness of a bevy of unlikable characters.

Jessica is a twenty-something makeup artist, traveling from client to client and eking out a living. Motivated by the lure of a $500 stipend, she fabricates a story and wheedles her way into a study being conducted by a local university professor. Oh the irony to discover that the study is one that explores ethics and morality! As a participant, Jessica is encouraged to share life experiences that reflect her own standards and values. In the process, she is drawn to the professor asking the questions—and the professor is equally intrigued. The relationship they together forge is dark, obsessive and dangerous, as Jessica is carefully groomed, then led down a rabbit hole that has been primed with lies and deceit. Emerging unscathed just may not be possible—for either of them.

The novel utilizes a structure that is apparently all the rage—dual first person perspectives in alternating chapters. Unfortunately, inside the heads of these characters is a disturbing place to be. Jessica is easily led and impulsive, unnaturally fixated on the professor conducting the research study. The professor, in return, is cold and calculating, full of sociopathic intent. Both are hiding similar life-altering secrets that serve as supporting subplots; both are wholly unlikable.

What saved this book from falling victim to its characters was a unique story that kept evolving. The reader is, from the very first page, encouraged to make predictions about where this piece is going, and in spite of some of the predictability, the authors dangle carrots and shiny that keep the reader engaged. It feels imperative to keep turning pages, not due to an investment in the players but instead to discover how their complicated and perverse story will end. This would make a great book club read, as it is sure to spark discussion.

Four big stars due to an innovative plot that propels the reader through at breakneck speed.



View all my reviews

Review: Pandemic

Pandemic by Robin Cook
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Robin Cook’s Pandemic is the eleventh book in the Jack Stapleton and Laurie Montgomery series. It is, however, the first of the set that I’ve read. Considering both the popularity of Cook’s sizable body of work and his huge fan base, I expected so much more. In the end it was extraordinarily mediocre.

Generally, I avoid novels that feature the same characters over several volumes, and I do so for a number of reasons. First, I have commitment issues. Seriously. I want to meet them, read about them and move on once I close the cover. Second, in many same-character-series novels I’ve found that in addition to a single, driving plot, an inordinate amount of real estate is occupied by subplots examining evolving situations and relationships—things that were established in earlier books. If the reader hasn’t read the earlier books, the characters lack that substance needed for one to fully engage. I mention all of this because it is at the crux of my disappointment with this book.

Jack Stapleton and wife Laurie Montgomery are both NYC medical examiners, and it’s clear from the start that their back story is complicated and complex, built upon over the course of the eleven novels in the series. References are made to their family, their jobs and the tension between them—references with vague explanations that left me feeling like an outsider, unable to invest in them either individually or as a couple. There unjust wasn’t enough in this one novel to allow me to fully invest in what happened to either of them. I understand that the author is courting loyal followers, but here he is also alienating those new to the work.

Which brings me to the central plot. I was drawn to the title because I thought it would be about a...um....pandemic. Spoiler—it wasn’t (or it was but only tangentially). I won’t ruin it for you any further other than to say that the climax and conclusion were just a very weary “so what.”

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that Cook overuses the verb “snapped” (seriously...the guy loves the word) or that there are entire pages that require a medical degree to explain.

Just very, very average.

View all my reviews

Review: The Third Wheel

The Third Wheel by Michael J. Ritchie
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The Third Wheel is a refreshingly original, wickedly delicious apocalyptic novel. Through a unique combination of parody, satire and wit, author Michael J. Ritchie takes a swipe at the myriad tropes of the genre; first world millennial issues; and the basic human need for companionship and social interaction.

When this story begins, we learn that the narrator is a prisoner, recently abducted by aliens. The timeline then suddenly rewinds to one week prior. The speaker is revealed to be twenty-something Dexter, a British single English teacher coming to grips with being the lone “singleton” in his social circle. Through an episodic retelling of his past, Dexter introduces each of his friends and their partners. Once the group is presented and the dynamics are established, the action begins and aliens invade. Suddenly being single turns into a situational asset that almost ensures Dexter’s short-term survival.

Wielding his sharp sarcasm as a deadly weapon, nothing is safe from Ritchie. He manages to skewer the cliches of apocalyptic literature by making the obligatory love interest a death wish; giving the bad guys the upper hand: and saving everyone but those who are traditionally spared (farmers, preppers and doctors). Whilst bringing the entire genre to its knees, Ritchie takes a few moments to nod, wave then grill-on-an-open-flame organized religion, television journalism, British policy and contemporary pop culture. He pokes fun at Americans, whacks at social media, challenges gender roles and addresses sexual preference. Incredibly, even as he is biting the ankles of readers with teeth cut on humor, Ritchie manages to sneak in a story that at its core reveals the fears and weaknesses inherent to being human.

The myriad quips are at times juvenile and sophomoric, then suddenly introspective and philosophical, all well written and direct. One liners worthy of being followed by rim-shots are tucked between images of blood, guts and gore; and hilarious dialogue is scattered liberally onto the pages. The masterful juxtaposition of competing elements is nothing shy of genius. The Third Wheel is a must read for anyone who has grown weary of somber accounts of the apocalypse. There is just no way to read this without laughing out loud. Thanks to NetGalley and Unbound for providing me with a copy of this book for review.

View all my reviews

Review: Doomsday: Apocalypse: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

Doomsday: Apocalypse: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller by Bobby Akart
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

Here’s a first for me. I’m going to let this one speak for itself. Enjoy. Sob.


“They finally stopped as their progress toward the front of the ball-drop stage appeared before them.”


As their progress appeared, WHAT? Huh?


“Tyler laughed and slid her hand onto his butt. ‘Feel that? Still dry after the twenty-story drop on the Nitro ride.’”


Fifth time this grown man and father of two has referenced soiling himself. OMG.


“He looked over to his first officer, who didn’t appear to be physically injured, but only limp as a result of fainting.”


The plane just CRASHED INTO THE WATER. You are STRAPPED into the pilot seat. The copilot is only limp as a result of fainting? Oh Good GOD


“‘Jim, catch me! I can’t—arrrggghhh!’ Her body suddenly twisted on the pipe and she sailed downward.”


She was on her way to her death, 45 floors below, and she decides to TALK LIKE A PIRATE? There are no words. No. Words.


“With the last final thrust, his boot and leg pushed through the glass”.


Last final? LAST FINAL? ::shaking my damn head::


“‘Will wiped some more blood off his son’s face and then folded it over.’”


Wait. Wait. He folded his son’s FACE? Wouldn’t that, you know, hurt?


“The collapse caused a chain reaction that looked like it was straight out of a Three Stooges movie, except it wasn’t funny.”


This is just bad on so many levels.


“Without going into unnecessary details right now, but a lot has happened on the East Coast this evening, and it’s all hands on deck for first responders and our Coast Guard.”


No. No. Seriously. Just. Just read that one again.


“He told the story of Paul Revere to his sister and the importance of the Liberty Tree.”


I....yeah..... ::sigh:: Jesus be an editor.


“Finally, he applied Polysporin ointment rather than the more commonly used Neosporin. They both had the same active ingredients except Neosporin also contained neomycin, which had been associated with allergic reactions and contact dermatitis.”


Voted most random piece of information EVER. Why? Just. WHY?

So there you have it. This is just a brief glimpse into the world of author Bobby Akart: where grammar, spelling and punctuation rules cease to exist; where the first 45% (FORTY FIVE PERCENT) of a novel is unnecessary background information; and where conclusions of any kind fear to tread.

I give up. It’s a one. A ONE. ⭐️

View all my reviews

Review: I Know You

I Know You by Annabel Kantaria
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

British author Annabel Kantaria has written what is sure to be one of the most talked about books of the year. I Know You is a suspense novel that features not only rich characters and a brilliant plot but also writing that catapults the reader into the action almost as if an active participant in what unfolds.

Taylor and Jake are an attractive young married couple, recently transplanted from sunny California to the grey skies of Jake’s hometown—Croydon, England. As the novel opens, it is revealed that the couple is in the UK seeking a fresh start after Taylor discovered that Jake was having an affair. England, however, isn’t all that the then pregnant Taylor thought it would be. Her husband is gone for long periods of time with his work, and she is bored, lonely and desperate for friends. She immerses herself in social media, recording and sharing every moment of her life in an effort to feel more connected. When she joins both a walking group and a book club, Taylor begins to build what she hopes will be lifelong relationships. Not all is as it seems, however, and she is about to learn that the old cliche “be careful what you wish for” is far more accurate a warning than she could have ever imagined.

The structure of the novel is that of a first person narrative, though it’s clear from the start that chapters alternate between at least two different perspectives. On one hand, Taylor tells the straight forward tale of what transpired during her pregnancy. She is, however, painted as perhaps an unreliable narrator, which adds to ever-building tension. The second narrator isn’t identified until the denouement, but the writing in those chapters is wicked, gritty and full of anger and resentment. The author moves fluidly between the two voices in an ebb and flow that rocks from comfort to unease and back again.

Within this unusual format, Kantaria develops her characters in a way that makes them easily believable, even if not particularly likable. Through their dialogue and actions we learn that they are all in some way flawed, which is perhaps why they are so engaging. There’s no doll-house facade here, as the true nature of each is portrayed, raw and uncensored. Taylor is obsessive, short tempered and needy. Jake is flirtatious, aloof and lacks self-awareness. Even the more minor characters are exposed as imperfect human beings who are sometimes victims of circumstance and other times just victims. It’s clear that Kantaria understands what makes people tick, and she moves forward manipulating that knowledge, making us squirm as we catch glimpses of ourselves.

My single complaint was in the fact that although Taylor is presented as an American, she uses British terminology and spelling. She calls her friends “mates”, a cooler becomes a “chiller” and in the narration “favorite” is spelled with a u. There are myriad examples of this throughout, and it is these oversights that kept this from being a five star read.

Overall, this is a wonderful book that gains momentum as it moves toward a finish that, while possibly predictable, is nonetheless exciting. Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys a suspenseful thriller that keeps the pages turning. Thanks to NetGalley and Crooked Lane Books for providing me with a copy of this for review!

View all my reviews

Review: Identity Thief

Identity Thief by Rachel Rosenthal
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Rachel Rosenthal reveals a painful and intensely personal period of her life in this narrative, one of four short stories in This Can’t Be Happening, a collection of Amazon Original Stories.

In her childhood, Rosenthal was a chatty, friendly kid with a great family and a bright future. Her evolving relationship with friend, then partner, Zach, defines her move from teenager to adulthood—a journey fraught with identify fraud, poverty and under-employment. When the truth of her life is finally exposed, the results are cataclysmic and force Rosenthal to re-examine all she thought she knew.

Well written and emotional, Rosenthal reaches deep to share something many would have kept buried. Worth the read!

View all my reviews

Review: The Third Man

The Third Man by Mani Sheriar
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This contribution to the four part This Can’t Be Happening series of Amazon Original Stories was, though well written, my least favorite of the collection. I found myself able to relate to the other three pieces, but this tale of pregnancy, infertility, and adoption just wasn’t in my wheel house. I was blessed by whatever gods may be with the ability to get pregnant by just being in the general vicinity of a semi-healthy sperm. So whilst I appreciated the author’s style, I was never able to fully invest. Overall, I felt it was just a bit too “new-age”, the introspection regarding the adoption hearings a shade too melodramatic. The passages to which I’m referring took place in a courtroom with a man who was a complete stranger, though the author insists there was some divine connection that caused her to be overcome with emotion. It was just a bit much. I’m not in any way marginalizing the pain of infertility. In fact, had the author chosen to simply write about that experience and the effect it had on her, I think this would have been far more powerful. As it stands, this felt like an exercise done in the throes of psychotherapy, then published as a favor to a friend.

View all my reviews

Review: Black Sheep

Black Sheep by Rory Scholl
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This was, by far, the best of the four shorts that make up the This Can’t Be Happening Collection of Amazon Original Stories. As the piece unfolds, Rory Scholl shares memories of his relationships with his parents and his irreverent maternal grandmother. The structure is brilliant, with Scholl listing five things he has in common with his grandmother and elaborating on each through recollections of familial interactions. While speaking to and meeting with his mother and father often devolves into a judgemental tribunal, Scholl’s interactions with Evelyn, his feisty, vodka-swilling grandma are full of love and laughter. The unexpected climax here is one that may tug at your heart a little, and Scholl handles it with dignity and grace that represents a coming of age. Bittersweet and funny, this is a must read for anyone who has ever felt like the black sheep.

View all my reviews

Review: Two Henrys

Two Henrys by Kevin Allison
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

“Two Henrys” is a compelling short story—one of four that comprise the collection of Amazon Original Stories entitled This Can’t Be Happening. Author Kevin Allison peels back layers of thick skin he developed as a child and relates his own experience at discovering he was gay and then coming out to his best friend, Ben. The story itself is riddled with facts that I found difficult to swallow, such as a three year old with a vague understanding of the fact that his emerging sexual identity is something that disturbs his mother. In the end, however, one must take Allison at his word that the events transpired as he remembers them.

As the parent of a lesbian teen, I found myself in tears reading about Allison’s periods of self-doubt as he attempted to conform to what he believed were societal norms. The cruelty of youth is something that is as disturbing as it is disheartening . As this story takes place in the 70s, one would like to think that we have come far enough in our evolutionary development that those who identify as LGBTQ are simply accepted. The truth of the matter is that the bias and hatred is still there, simmering just beneath the surface and stoked by our current political climate. What Allison experienced is still relevant today—and that is perhaps the most heartbreaking realization of all.

This is a read that isn’t necessarily masterfully written, or one that is full of great insight. What it is, however, is a story that will resonate with anyone who has struggled with the issue of identity—and all of the angst that accompanies it.

View all my reviews