Review: Accidentally Amy

Accidentally Amy by Lynn Painter
My rating: 2 of 5 stars



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Review: One of Those Faces

One of Those Faces by Elle Grawl
My rating: 1 of 5 stars



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Review: Flight

Flight by Lynn Steger Strong
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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Review: The Boys from Biloxi

The Boys from Biloxi by John Grisham
My rating: 4 of 5 stars



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Review: The Drift

The Drift by C.J. Tudor
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

As a rabid fan of post apocalyptic fiction, I was beyond excited to read this new release by CJ Tudor. I dove in feet first, but it didn’t take long to feel as if I was drowning in details that were too obscure to connect. From the first page, I was thrown off balance and truly puzzled about where Tudor was headed. I could find no frame of reference to allow me to place the characters into a scenario that made sense and instead spent an inordinate amount of time trying to manufacture connections that would allow me to find an actual story I could follow. There just wasn’t enough background to anchor the events. Whilst the writing itself is on point, the structure and lack of depth just made for a chaotic read. Add to that a series of similar characters who remained flat and lifeless, and the result is a selection I would recommend leaving on the shelf.

The book unfolds in cycling chapters that focus on three different locations where characters are caught in the aftermath of a viral epidemic. One group finds themselves trapped on a bus that crashed during a snowstorm, while the second group of six is stuck high in the frigid air on a stalled cable car.. All, in both locations, were volunteers en route to “The Retreat”, an isolated former ski lodge now functioning as a facility focused on finding a vaccine. It is at that research institution that the reader finds the third and final group, a diverse mix of men and women engaged in various nefarious activities. One fact is made crystal clear—in each location, and to a person, everyone is harboring secrets.

From the beginning, the chapters exist in isolation. No group has knowledge of any of the others, and so the reader is left with the impression that they are reading three separate stories, related only by the virus that has decimated the world around them. The expectation, of course, is that the reader is being set up for a grand intersection. I have seen this technique utilized successfully when links between those parallel plots are revealed before they again divert and gain traction as completely separate storylines. They eventually spiral down into a single event that melds them seamlessly together when the plots collide, leaving the reader wondering how they missed the connections. Here, however, Tudor waits far too long to offer the reader any common threads. Instead, the stories stand apart with no clear relationship to one another, each weaving distinct paths that at times become tedious in their ambiguity. There’s a fine line between expecting the reader to infer and dissect clues and making the clues so obscure that it is nearly impossible to follow them to any logical conclusion, Tudor never closes the gap between the storylines in any satisfying way, and when the big picture is finally made clear (too little, too late), the result was, for me, a big “so what”.

Character development, or lack thereof, is another disappointment. In each group, the characters aren’t just eerily similar, they are near carbon copies, down to their vocabulary and the cadence of their speech. Some of these similarities are eventually explained, but others are just the result of inadequate character development. It’s as if Tudor storyboarded four or five stock character sketches, then recycled them as he moved forward.

Overall, the promise of a post-apocalyptic tale was replaced with a story borne of revenge and violence, structured in a way that left me disconnected and unable to invest.

I am grateful to NetGalley and Random House Publishing (Ballantine Books) for allowing me to receive an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Publication is set for January 31, 2023, at which time I look forward to reading other reactions and reviews.

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Review: The Half Moon

The Half Moon by Mary Beth Keane
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

When I saw that Mary Beth Keane had published another novel, I was almost giddy. Ask Again, Yes is one my most favorite books, and to know that Keane had once again put pen to paper was exciting. I cleared my Saturday and dove in. Whilst this story has its strengths, there are a few hiccups that just kept me from loving it.

The Half Moon is the story of Malcolm and Jess, a childless couple in their forties, searching for meaning and direction. Malcolm is the proud(ish) owner of a run down bar called The Half Moon, and Jess is an accomplished lawyer. Both seem to be stuck in their own mid-life crises, reaching out for something tangible to define themselves and grasping only empty promises and disappointment. The tale floats through their journey, following the natural curves in the river, as the reader plays voyeur to their navigation of rough waters and scraping atop shallow banks.

The story itself is one that relates themes of self-doubt, self-discovery, betrayal and redemption—a heady combination that leaves the reader with a feeling of being weighted down with rocks in one’s pockets. The depressing narrative is a trudge with little to no lightness to ease the load. I felt as I read that I was slowly drowning in the mistakes and missteps of both Malcolm and Jess. Beyond the general tone, however, the biggest issue I had with the book was the structure.

Malcolm has a tendency to see everything through a lens of past events, though Keane’s attempts to recreate that lens seem arbitrary and capricious and make it sometimes difficult to follow. The story meanders from past to present, often a paragraph or two at a time, with no clear delineation of the jump. By the time the reader catches up to the time-line placement, the story moves yet again into another era. The best books are those that disappear in your hands as you become a part of the storyline. Here, however, it was a lot of work to keep track of where in the characters’ lives certain events happened, making it difficult to melt into the setting. One is constantly reminded that they must relocate themselves in relation to the events, which in turn separates the reader from the page as the adjustment takes place.

The news here, however, is not only bad. Keane’s genius in character development is once again on point, and every single character leaps from the page. Additionally, her prosaic text and ability to turn a phrase is positively brilliant. Finally, she leaves the reader longing to know more—to follow the lives of both Malcolm and Jess as they move forward.

Overall, it’s a book I wouldn’t have missed simply because of my love of this author. As a stand alone, without prior knowledge of Keane’s ability, I’m not sure I would have found it quite engaging. The structural issues and amount of concentration it took to readjust to the ever changing time line just make this more work than the investment warranted in returns.

Thank you to NetGalley and Scribner Books for providing me with an ARC for review. Publication is set for May 2, 2023.

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Review: The Handmaid's Tale

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Atwood is an acquired taste. Kind of like green olives or caviar. You need to commit to the experience, then find the fortitude to push through the first few pages— or put the book down and try again in a few weeks/months/years. As our experiences change so does our relationship to and engagement in the text. It was finally time for me to crack this one open. I was ready.

First, one must understand that Atwood’s style is detached and informal, messy and chaotic. The narrator, Offred (not her real name, but rather a generic label given as a way to further strip her of her individuality), tells the story through a sharing of her memories, sometimes stopping mid sentence to admit to being unreliable and then retelling the narrative as it “really” happened. It can be difficult to follow as she meanders from past to present with little structure. The beauty, however, is that once you have immersed yourself, the stories she tells become all-encompassing in their horror.

When this was initially published, many found it to be almost too dystopian in nature. Women’s rights are set back decades, and men are running the show. A contingent of seditious far-right Christian men kill the president, shoot up the Capital and leave every politician and left-thinking scholar in a tangled pile of decay following a bloody coup. It’s a new day, where woman serve to either procreate or indulge their husbands. Single women become Handmaids, who bear children for those wealthy and unable, settling between the legs of the wives and spreading their own, while the husbands attempt to impregnate them. The positional logistics are repeated again when it’s time for the Handmaid to give birth, after which the baby, should it survive, is ceremoniously given to the man who impregnated her and the wife who wrapped her own legs around the Handmaid as she conceived. Many of the babies, due to contaminates in a decaying world, are born only to die. There is no prenatal testing, no option to terminate. Babies who aren’t perfect when they emerge from the Handmaid’s womb are labeled shredders. No one is quite sure what becomes of them, though the implication is that they are killed or left to die. Those who refuse to become Handmaids (too old, too ill, too poor) are sent to Colonies, where the work is both dangerous and demeaning. One day might mean cleaning up rotting corpses from a recent battle. The next might bring a radioactive area that needs to be decontaminated. Life for colonists is difficult and short. It can be equally so for those who agree to be handmaids as they face a three strike rule, sent from household to household to be impregnated. Failure equates to death. There is always the option to perhaps become a prostitute and work in one of the forbidden clubs run by those in charge—the men with means. Women who choose this option are first sterilized so as not to muddy the waters of the organization. The written word has been abolished for women, men are the keepers of all monies, and a community wall serves as a showcase for detractors and those insistent upon resistance and rebellion, where hooded bodies hang from hooks as a warning: a reminder of what it means to say “no”. Women who remember the past are living out their days/months/years by paving the way for a generation that will know no different—girls born to become receptacles and incubators.

More recent readers, and those who reflect back, will find themselves with goosebumps and the tiny hairs standing on the backs of their necks. The far right, in the shadow of January 6 and led by the resounding bass of the Supreme Court, has begun the march over the rights of women, and while many are lowering their gaze and standing ostrich-like, head deep in the sand, the band continues to play. Atwood reminds us of the consequences of such ignorance and feigned obliviousness.

Five big stars, another certain spike in my level of anxiety and a few guaranteed nightmares—and I am waiting a bit before tackling the next book in the series. I need to reset and make sure the world isn’t truly imploding.

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Review: Nineteen Minutes

Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I waited a long time to tackle this one. As an urban high school teacher who has lost countless students to violence, I was wary of the subject matter here. I was right to be. The character development employed by Picoult is nothing short of brilliant. In lifting these characters from the pages, however, Picoult broke my heart into tiny little shards of glass that have continued, long after closing the book, to pierce my conscience. This is a rough ride that left me realizing just how close to the truth this author has aimed and how accurately she has portrayed the depth of cruelty that teenagers experience at the hands of one another. I carry my own scars from bullying, almost 45 years after the fact, and felt every push, shove, insult and humiliation to which the main character, Peter, was subjected. This one will live with me for a very, very long time.

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Review: The Resort

The Resort by Sue Watson
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

First, this book was simply awful. Second, I have no idea why I persevered and finished it. If I’d had a lick of sense, I would have closed the cover after the first ten pages and moved along. Third, do yourself a favor and learn from my mistake—hours wasted on what can only be described as utter nonsense.

The story is that of three couples, meeting for the first time whilst on holiday at Fitzgerald’s, a posh, exclusive resort. Now this could have been a great name for a lavish getaway situated on its very own island. Instead, however, it is rendered positively cringeworthy the moment the second couple is introduced—Tom and Daisy. (No, I’m not kidding. F. Scott is somewhere in the ether, downing migraine meds and praying he doesn’t have a stroke.). When a Fitzgerald’s waitress is found dead on the beach, no one knows for sure whether it is murder or suicide, but finger-pointing runs amuck, and everyone is a suspect.

There are so many issues here I’m not even sure where to begin. The character development is abhorrent—not a single one likable or even interesting. It’s as if the author created these shells she intended to imbue with personalities but then realized a couple hundred pages in that she had forgotten to do so. Their behaviors are inconsistent and erratic, up and down more often than a whore’s drawers. In case that isn’t enough of a deterrent to keep turning pages, there are also numerous errors in continuity. One of my favorites is as chapter five opens, and Daisy is on her way to the beach:

“Daisy climbed down the rather rickety wooden steps to the beach, and once there pulled off her sandals, immediately soothed by the feeling of warm sand between her toes. She stood at the bottom of the stairs…”

In THE VERY NEXT PARAGRAPH:

“She tried not to think of what might have been and counted her blessings as she stood quietly at the top of the wooden steps down to the beach, her art director’s eye scanning the view for shots.”

Come on, seriously? It’s a ONE PARAGRAPH follow through!

Here’s another gem:

“‘You sure you’re okay?’ Sam was saying. ‘You look terribly pale.’

To Sam, she probably looked like the picture of sophistication drinking Aperol in her chichi beachwear, but in truth she was just a scared and fragile woman.”

So Sam tells Daisy she looks pale, and Daisy interprets that to mean Sam sees her as a picture of sophistication? I….but….::sigh::

Those are just two examples of the myriad issues that plague this book. Although classified as a “mystery”, the only true mystery is how The Resort made it to publication. This editor needs to be in the unemployment line whilst seeking training for a new career.

Reading back, I realize the brutality of this review, but it truly angers me to spend hard earned money to purchase a book that I then invest time into reading, only to discover that clearly my own investments are far more than those made by the author.

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Review: The Measure

The Measure by Nikki Erlick
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is one of the most intriguing books I think I may have ever read. The premise is that one spring evening, everyone in the world over the age of 22 awakens to discover a small box. For some it’s on the doorstep, for others it is outside of the homeless shelter where they are seeking refuge, while still others find it outside of their tents, apartments, etc. No one is spared the gift. Inside the indestructible box is an equally indestructible length of string, and the exterior of each is inscribed “The measure of your life lies within”. It doesn’t take long for people to postulate that the length of the string is equal to the length of one’s life. Scientists are eventually able to prove this theory, and the world is suddenly thrust into a society of “long stringers” vs. “short stringers”. How we as human beings square off and either lose or find our humanity when we know the exact time we will leave this earth is at the crux of the tale. Some turn to religion; some turn to one another. Some seek isolation and still others seek meaningful connections. There are those who take full advantage of the fear that grips the nation in an effort to further their own agendas. Some simply refuse to open the boxes at all. No matter the response, the fact remains that life for every living being is forever altered.

The characters brought to life by author Nikki Erlick are simply brilliant in their complexity. They each have just enough depth to be relatable without Erlick falling into the minutiae of their lives. Each has a story that is filled with heartbreak and hope, and though some of the plot direction is visible many pages in advance, the reader is nonetheless moved to shed tears for these fictional yet oh-so-real people whom Erlick breathes into being.

Whether or not you are a sci-fi fan, set aside any preconceived notions and allow yourself to get lost in the pages here. You won’t regret a single moment. Five big gold stars.

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Review: Schooled

Schooled by Ted Fox
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Whilst this book did offer some amusing anecdotes, the overall “feel” was that the author was just trying too hard and stretching for the laugh.

The upshot is that Jack, a recently unemployed father of two, suddenly finds himself a stay at home dad. His successful wife Kayla, an accountant, swings out the door each day and increasingly travels for her work (a scenario that eventually becomes tiresome for both husband and wife), as Jack spends his days changing diapers, doing the laundry and taking care of the kids. When Jack encounters his high school nemesis during a school drop off (Lulu, his oldest has just started kindergarten), the game is a afoot as both decide to jump into elementary school politics and run for president of the Active Alpacas Parent Board.

Without providing spoilers, suffice it to say that the reason Jack is unemployed is due to a ludicrous series of events that happen right out of the gate, setting the tone of “oh-come-on-now” that pervades the remaining pages.

Three stars, mostly for effort.

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Review: The Drift

The Drift by C.J. Tudor
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

As a rabid fan of post apocalyptic fiction, I was beyond excited to read this new release by CJ Tudor. I dove in feet first, but it didn’t take long to feel as if I was drowning in details that were too obscure to connect. From the first page, I was thrown off balance and truly puzzled about where Tudor was headed. I could find no frame of reference to allow me to place the characters into a scenario that made sense and instead spent an inordinate amount of time trying to manufacture connections that would allow me to find an actual story I could follow. There just wasn’t enough background to anchor the events. Whilst the writing itself is on point, the structure and lack of depth just made for a chaotic read. Add to that a series of similar characters who remained flat and lifeless, and the result is a selection I would recommend leaving on the shelf.

The book unfolds in cycling chapters that focus on three different locations where characters are caught in the aftermath of a viral epidemic. One group finds themselves trapped on a bus that crashed during a snowstorm, while the second group of six is stuck high in the frigid air on a stalled cable car.. All, in both locations, were volunteers en route to “The Retreat”, an isolated former ski lodge now functioning as a facility focused on finding a vaccine. It is at that research institution that the reader finds the third and final group, a diverse mix of men and women engaged in various nefarious activities. One fact is made crystal clear—in each location, and to a person, everyone is harboring secrets.

From the beginning, the chapters exist in isolation. No group has knowledge of any of the others, and so the reader is left with the impression that they are reading three separate stories, related only by the virus that has decimated the world around them. The expectation, of course, is that the reader is being set up for a grand intersection. I have seen this technique utilized successfully when links between those parallel plots are revealed before they again divert and gain traction as completely separate storylines. They eventually spiral down into a single event that melds them seamlessly together when the plots collide, leaving the reader wondering how they missed the connections. Here, however, Tudor waits far too long to offer the reader any common threads. Instead, the stories stand apart with no clear relationship to one another, each weaving distinct paths that at times become tedious in their ambiguity. There’s a fine line between expecting the reader to infer and dissect clues and making the clues so obscure that it is nearly impossible to follow them to any logical conclusion, Tudor never closes the gap between the storylines in any satisfying way, and when the big picture is finally made clear (too little, too late), the result was, for me, a big “so what”.

Character development, or lack thereof, is another disappointment. In each group, the characters aren’t just eerily similar, they are near carbon copies, down to their vocabulary and the cadence of their speech. Some of these similarities are eventually explained, but others are just the result of inadequate character development. It’s as if Tudor storyboarded four or five stock character sketches, then recycled them as he moved forward.

Overall, the promise of a post-apocalyptic tale was replaced with a story borne of revenge and violence, structured in a way that left me disconnected and unable to invest.

I am grateful to NetGalley and Random House Publishing (Ballantine Books) for allowing me to receive an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Publication is set for January 31, 2023, at which time I look forward to reading other reactions and reviews.

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Review: The Quarry Girls

The Quarry Girls by Jess Lourey
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I will admit that after the uncomfortable preface, I didn’t expect to enjoy this book one bit. Anout twenty pages in, however, I found myself completely hooked. Jess Lourey has taken all the parts of a small-town rural upbringing in the 70s and poured them onto pages that chronicle the lives of those of us who as children were also finding ourselves during that tumultuous time. The cultural references were spot on and also brought with them a profound sense of authenticity that made the tragic events of that summer somehow personal.

Lourey makes a few decisions in her telling of the story that may not sit well with some readers. She never offers in-the-moment retellings of the more difficult events in the book but rather chooses, in most chapters, to reside authentically within the mind of teenage Heather, the narrator. Lourey allows the reader to see the entire story unfold as if seen through Heather’s eyes and stays true to the teenage angst. Scattered chapters are told in a third person limited point of view from the perspective of a young waitress held captive, and those pages, too, reveal a depth of emotion and insight that allowed me to fully suspend any disbelief.

Quarry Girls is a title I expect to see on any number of “Best of 2022” lists—and deservedly so.

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Review: Over Her Dead Body

Over Her Dead Body by Susan Walter
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Well, I almost DNFd this after the first twenty pages. Unfortunately, I ignored my better angels and pushed through. Blessedly, it was short.

This is my first journey into the work of Susan Walter, and it also be my last. The work was tedious, repetitive and not as clever as she clearly thought. The characters were each abhorrent and wholly unlikable as well. Additionally, the unbelievable specifics in which the reader was asked to invest bordered on parody or satire—which, even if intended, was a hearty miss.

The structure of the novel led directly to the tedium experienced as a reader. The narrator shifts from chapter to chapter, which is a technique I’ve seen used quite effectively by other authors. Walter, however, has put her own spin on cycling narration by retelling a single series of events over and over, from each character’s “unique” perspective. As the detail changes between those chapters were subtle, the result is reading what were nearly identical consecutive chapters. I suppose it is a way to fill pages, but furthering the action with each narration shift would have been far more entertaining. 

As for the characters, I found each (save Jordan) to be flawed beyond redemption. Their life choices, as well as their circumstantial choices, revealed them as selfish, morally reprehensible people without a single saving grace. It would have been nice to have a single character to invest in and cheer for. That just didn’t happen.

Finally, the plot reminded me of Verity by Colleen Hoover—just so far reaching as to be ridiculous. I didn’t believe a single page. Again, it read as almost a parody of the suspense genre, like Walter was writing the extremes to show the banality of common themes and plot details. I have to repeat myself here, though—even as a parody it just doesn’t work.

I’m so glad I received this on First Reads. Had I purchased it, I’d be doing a slow burn about money wasted. As it is, the only thing I lost was time. Two stars for decent editing. Choose something else!

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Review: Such a Beautiful Family

Such a Beautiful Family by T.R. Ragan
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

T.R. Ragan’s Such a Beautiful Family just wasn’t, for me, a hit. Whilst the prologue drew me in, from there things just never coalesced into an enjoyable read.

The story begins with a teenage girl receiving a phone call from her best friend—Allina. Allina is panicked and needs a ride home from a party-gone-bad. The friend races to help, though the results of her efforts lead to catastrophic consequences. When the first chapter begins, that fateful evening is long passed, and the identity of the driver, as well as her fate and that of Allina, remain a mystery. We are, however, introduced to Nora and her family. Nora has recently been offered a new job, and though the woman extending that offer, Jane, is sending out “hell-no” vibes, Nora reluctantly accepts the position. Jane wastes no time insinuating herself into every aspect of Nora’s life, befriending Nora’s daughter and flirting shamelessly with Nora’s husband. As Jane devolves into even more of a nuisance and becomes a threat, Nora is forced to face the fact that she should never have accepted the job that now threatens to cost her her career, her family and perhaps even her life.

So the prologue connection is, I’m assuming, initially intentionally vague. The transition from it to the first chapter is so abrupt, however, that it is disorienting. I found myself turning back pages to make sure I hadn’t missed something. I then struggled through the next few chapters trying desperately to identify the thread that surely stitched the two storylines together. That intersection, however, takes FOREVER to emerge, and when it does, it’s so far-fetched that I resented having tried to make sense of it.

As for the writing itself, it struck me as far too informal and formulaic. Chapter 10 begins with “Nora sat”; 11 with “Nora sat”; 13 “Nora stood”; 18 “ Nora walked”; and the list goes on. This simplistic formula for a narrative was made worse by the repeated use of the word “look”, as it appears no less than 243 times. I desperately wanted to send Ragan a thesaurus.

Overall, this was clearly not one I’d be comfortable recommending without a total revamp. As publication isn’t set until December of 2022, Ragan still has a small window of opportunity through which to fix the deficits.

Thanks to Net Galley and Thomas and Mercer Publishing for providing me an ARC copy for review.

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Review: The Last Storm

The Last Storm by Tim Lebbon
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The Last Storm, by author Tim Lebbon, is a beautifully brutal collision of horror, science fiction, fantasy and environmental awareness. The characters are rich and complex, the plot is unique, and the structure is engaging.

In the Last Storm, the reader is first introduced to Jesse—a man who, through genetics and a hand-made apparatus, is able to conjure rain. His power is a reflection of the world at large, so unlike his mother and grandmother (who were able to produce gentle showers in a kinder world), Jesse’s creations are fraught with scorpions and spiders that accompany a rain of water and blood. The world is succumbing to climate change, and the power of the rainmaker has become destructive and angry. Jess realizes he can no longer allow himself the luxury of practicing his craft, but his daughter, Ash, has inherited the ability. In a time that is increasingly dangerous, when earth is warming on a global scale, Ash’s belief that she can control the rain and save those in peril leads her into a storm that threatens to envelope her and the world at large.

Lebbon’s characters are well developed, with rich backstories that bring them to life. Jesse and Ash are believable even in the throes of something as far-fetched as making the heavens cry. Jesse’s almost hermit existence and the touch of madness that inhabits the mind of Ash, are revealed through the consistent integrity of their behaviors. Jesse reacts to life and those around him in ways that remain constant; Ash moves through life growing in her self-awareness. Neither ever offer any dialogue or actions that betray who Lebbon has groomed them to be. It is in this consistency that the reader loses a sense of needing to suspend disbelief and falls into the story with a conviction that yes, there ARE rainmakers. Of course there are. It’s a brilliant technique that garners and maintains reader investment.

As a reader of post-apocalyptic lit, Lebbon’s approach is a refreshing change. This isn’t an EMP taking out the grid, or a nuclear blast poisoning the earth. It’s a gorgeous, almost poetic retelling of a time in the future when death is a casual occurrence that strikes increasingly more often and with utter disregard for the sanctity of life. The devolution happens so slowly that it’s accepted as the new normal—a sobering look at a terrifying scenario resulting from global warming. The single distraction, for me, was the narrative that led to the construction of Ash’s rainmaking apparatus. It felt forced and was the only point in the book where a fourth wall came down and removed me from the action. On the other hand, the horror Lebbon unleashes through the conduit of Ash is absolutely numbing in its grotesque depiction. I actually had goosebumps and felt the need to look over my shoulder on more than one occasion.

Finally, the structure here is built in chapters that rotate between perspectives of various characters. When their stories finally intersect, the tension is positively palpable. It’s always a risk when an author attempts to build a number of storylines that eventually come together. Readers can find it difficult to follow and keep track of the changing narrative. Lebbon doesn’t suffer in his approach, as it is meticulously built in a way that makes the transitions seamless.

This is a definite must-read for those looking for something innovative, frightening and fantastical. Thanks to NetGalley and Titan Books for providing me with an ARC for review. Publication is slated for July 19, 2022.

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Review: Below

Below by Kev Harrison
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Below by author Kev Harrison is a delicious slice of horror that will have readers all over the world sleeping with the lights on.

The story is that of Nick Jones, a man whose life has been in many ways shaped by the grandfather he knew only through the stories told to him. Nicholas Jones was a twenty eight year old miner when he heroically spirited fellow workers to safety during a mine collapse. As his turn to exit the mine arrived, the entire shaft disintegrated, burying he and two other miners alive. Nick has heard the stories all of his life, stories that sparked his own interest in mining and led to his pursuit of a PhD in mining engineering. The mine where Nick’s grandfather perished was never reopened, and Nick is on a funded mission to reopen the entrance and retrieve his grandfather’s remains—remains that have been in the collapsed mine for over sixty years. Nick is accompanied on his journey by upwardly mobile influencer Jess and camera operator Sophia.  Together they descend into the darkness, where they discover that they are not alone.

Harrison’s strength is in creating a setting that is claustrophobic, dark and disturbing. The reader is immersed in this underground world, and it isn’t difficult to feel as if the walls are closing in. As the three explorers descend into the bowels of the mine, the tension builds in an edge-of-the-seat way that is physically experienced by the reader.

The weakness in this book, however, destabilizes reader engagement. The characters are two-dimensional—never fully explored or developed enough to warrant investment. I wanted to know more about Nick particularly, and of the specifics in the stories he had been told. I wanted his background so that I could feel some sort of emotion regarding his experiences in that mine. I also felt like the relationship between Jess and Sophia was forced as a way to make the story seem “woke” and on pointe with contemporary culture. It just wasn’t organic enough to be believable, a shortcoming that would be easily remedied by the inclusion of their back stories.

Overall, an atmospheric book that is a quick read—preferably with the lights on.

Thanks to NetGalley and Brigids Gate Press for providing me a free copy for review. Below is available now at major booksellers.

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Review: Movieland

Movieland by Lee Goldberg
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Movieland is one of those books that requires a solid block of time in which to read, as you will not want to put it down until the final page is turned. The characters are familiar, the plot is rife with suspense and the path to the conclusion is one of enough twists and turns to keep even the most veteran readers of the genre guessing.

Lee Goldberg has once again breathed life into Detective Eve Ronin, an LASD detective who was catapulted to popularity when video emerged of her single handedly taking down a well known arrogant and abusive actor who had built his reputation through a series of movies in which he played the “invincible Deathfist”. Ronin’s story continues here in Movieland, this time battling the thin blue line she once courageously exposed for widespread corruption, whilst also attempting to solve murders that may be the work of a serial shooter. Her jaded and bristly partner Duncan is back as well, winding down to retirement and giving Eve parting advice and support as they tackle what is to be their final case together.

Goldberg is the master of character development, and Movieland provides a sparkling showcase of this particular strength. In spite of this being the fourth of the Eve Ronin series, Goldberg lifts each character off the page and stands them in front of you, even if you are meeting them for the first time. The necessary background is seamlessly integrated into the storyline, so followers will appreciate seeing familiar faces, while newcomers will also be instantly engaged and invested. If you’ve read other serial novels, you know this is a difficult tightrope walk, but Goldberg makes it look as easy as a walk in the proverbial park.

The plot itself does become a bit convoluted as it unwinds, and at times it was distracting to see Goldberg straying with minutiae that adds to the flavor but not the storyline. Cameos by Eve’s mother and father seemed forced, as did the inclusion of several other bit players. In the long run, however, it was more a minor irritation than a dealbreaker. Goldberg’s ability to grab you by the collar truly makes the pages seem to turn themselves.

I hope this won’t the last we see of Ronin, as the trajectory for her growth has been forged—loose threads that demand further attention and will leave the reader longing to find out what’s next. Four bright stars for an author who is quickly becoming a favorite.

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Review: Fatal Rounds

Fatal Rounds by Carrie Rubin
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Carrie Rubin’s Fatal Rounds was a delicious novel, rife with suspense and intrigue that, for me, found its feet just a little too late in the game.

Protagonist Liza Larkin is entering her residency in pathology at the Titus McCall Medical Center. She’s smart, driven and experiences the world through the lens of her self-described “schizoid personality disorder”. She relies on lifelong lessons from both her psychiatrist and her parents regarding appropriate social behaviors to guide her daily interactions, though Liza still misses important cues and is often perceived as “odd” and quirky. Additionally, she has had to learn to control her angry and sometimes violent outbursts, and long standing relationships for Liza are few and far between. Her mother resides in a private mental health facility, her father is deceased and her musician brother survives in a cloud of depression. When Liza’s mother experiences a particularly alarming “episode”, Liza discovers a shadowy man who appears in the background of a number of family photographs—photos that seem to have triggered her mother’s angst and most recent decline. Liza’s mission to discern the man’s identity is quickly realized, at which time she commits to discovering why he, Dr. Sam Donovan, is seemingly stalking her family. In the process, she finds far more than she bargained for, placing her career, her family and her own life in jeopardy.

Liking Liza as a character is a difficult ask. Her strengths and “humanity” are revealed so slowly that, for the first half of the book, there seems to be no context to who she is. Rubin opens by placing Liza in a setting that would have been far more powerful had the reader been given an opportunity to invest in her and understand her actions and reactions. It took too much of a concerted effort, and an inordinate number of pages, to unwind her motivations and situate them in terms of her own mental health challenges. Additionally, while her close relationship with her father appears to eclipse his death, neither his life, their connection, nor his passing are explored to the extent necessary to make Liza’s behaviors believable. Finally, the reader is, throughout, expected to buy into Liza’s constantly recalibrating moral compass—something I was never quite comfortable simply attributing to her personality disorder. The echoes of psychopathy in Liza reverberated far too loudly for her to be sympathetic.

Character challenges aside, the pages turned quickly, and I found myself invested in the outcome—which, for me, makes this a worthwhile read.

Thanks to Net Galley and Indigo Dot Press for providing me with an ARC for review. Fatal Rounds is slated for publication September 20, 2022.

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Review: The Deluge

The Deluge by Stephen Markley
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

When I sat down to pen this review, I found myself somewhat stymied. Did I enjoy the book? Honestly, not so much. I am a post-apocalyptic fan and have stepped into some fairly treacherous trenches as far as the genre is concerned. At first blush, I assumed that this would be another in an extensive line of end-of-the-world fluff. Consider me schooled. This was a terrifying long haul journey through years of ignored climate change and devastating consequences, as author Stephen Markley pushes his foot on the gas and belts through intersecting narratives that, at their heart, document the earth’s demise. Did I mention it was terrifying? Dust bowl conditions, widespread global flooding and never before seen high temperatures take their toll on life as we know it and infect the very fabric of what it is to be human.

As for the quality of Markley’s writing, well that depends upon the criteria to which you hold the piece accountable. At just under 1,000 pages, it takes determination and patience to wade through the dense text in search of that pullable thread. It’s definitely there, but to find it requires wading though page after page of extraneous “stuff”. The snapshot narratives, interspersed with news stories, press releases and shared memos, are all arranged in a chronological(ish) format that deviates at will and the bemusement of the speaker-of-the-moment. It feels at times that the reader is stuck tumbling in the wheel that must never stop spinning in Markley’s head, as both the left and right are eviscerated and exposed for their over-sold dog and pony shows that amount to absolutely nothing in terms of meaningful change. The research behind these pages must be measurable only in mountains.

The author introduces an almost unwieldy cast of characters to deliver his warning—characters who cross paths then veer in distinctly different directions, though to eliminate even one would tear at the integrity of the story being told. Perhaps, as mentioned previously, making more judicious use of the minutiae would have made the text more approachable to the masses who need to read it. Often I’ve complained of other books that an author chooses either breadth or depth, one often at the peril of the other. Here, Markley makes no such concessions, insisting on tiny details, caught beneath a widely cast net, to the final page.

With all of that said, clearly exposing my prejudice for easy beach reads, this is a book that is of great import and a must read eye-opener for everyone—regardless of the tenacity one may have to muster to do so. Above all, Markley consistently drives home the urgency of our attention and, most importantly, our ACTION, before it’s too late to address and reverse the incomprehensible damage we are inflicting upon our world.

I believe in the not so distant future, we will look back at this cautionary tale and hail Markley a prophet, though of our successes or failures lies at the crux of the action he is able to mobilize.

Thanks to Simon and Shuster and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC for review. Publication is set for January 10, 2023. The sooner the better.

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Review: The Secret Witness

The Secret Witness by Victor Methos
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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When I spotted this as an option for an Amazon First Read selection, I was almost giddy.  Methos is, after all, a literary genius whom I both admire and, possibly, just a little, worship.  I dove in without a moment of hesitation.  I must admit, however, now that the shiny newness of a “latest release” has faded, what remains is the sense that this just not reflect the Methos-level work he has penned in the past.  The shine is definitely dulled.

The story is that of a retired hermit-like prosecutor, Solomon Shepard, who is approached by the local sheriff, Billie Gray, when “the one who got away” appears to resurface.  A serial killer known only as the Reaper has been on a prolonged hiatus, but a recent string of murders is so similar to those of the Reaper himself, many are convinced that the original killer is back in the game. Solomon is lured back into the realm of the Reaper with the hope of finally identifying the murderer and putting the case to rest.  

So is the story engaging?  Well….yes, it is.  The characters are a tad shallow, but they are believable and consistent.  The plot is one that offers a surprise ending that I never saw coming, and it was a quick page-turner.  Why, then, only three stars?  Because this book lacked the spark that has made me such a Methos fan.  There were no examples of clever wordsmithing.  There was no snarky dialogue, no characters who engaged me to the point of sadness at turning the final page.  In short, there was no shadow or imprint of Methos on a single page.  

If you’re looking for a well done, fairly straight forward story, with a twist right at the tail end, you may very well enjoy this.  If, however, you are a Methos fan looking to pad your love affair with his work, I’d skip this one and wait for Methos to rise again to the greatness of which he is fully capable.

Review: Fear Thy Neighbor

Fear Thy Neighbor by Fern Michaels
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

This book was, in short, a hot mess. It was a slow, almost nonexistent burn, during which the dialogue and character development were both positively abhorrent.

The story is that of Alison (Ali)—a product of the foster care system, abused and neglected by those who were responsible for her safety and well being. At 17, Ali graduates high school and, after a harrowing experience at home, goes on the run. The story is of Ali visiting a new-to-her village in Florida and purchasing her first home. In spite of being drugged and dragged, finding human bones in her yard, and having horrendous experiences with the nefarious characters who inhabit the space, Ali moves ahead with buying a beach house there. She knows something is not quite right (ya think?), and as the story unfolds, the community’s secrets are revealed.

Whilst reading, I kept waiting for some big reveal or some significant event to occur—something that would anchor this novel. Instead, what I got was a series of unrelated crises and events that portrayed Ali as, at once, a bad ass and a woman who just could not make good decisions. The result was a muddled protagonist about whom I could not possibly have cared any less.

While the lack of a central plot was disconcerting, it was the uncomfortable and stilted dialogue that sealed the two star deal. When Ali is chased while inadvertently trespassing on a private beach, she, weapon in reach, tells her pursuer she will “blow (his) frigging head off”. When the man backs off and tells her he never meant to scare her, Ali responds with “Then what the hell are your intentions?” His INTENTIONS? Really? She’s just been chased down and she asks his intentions? It was just so out of character. Was she the brusque and base woman who threatened to blow his head off or the more refined lady asking a man of his “intentions”? When she goes into a “dollar store”, she asks to purchase a “cellular phone”. So formal for a street rat who has had to live by the seat of her pants! The inconsistencies were prevalent through out and extended beyond the dialogue. At one stage, she was convinced she had food poisoning, then pages later professed that she never believed her illness was food poisoning. She talked about having to, in the past, eat from garbage cans, but then we find she has well over $100,000 she has managed to “save” over a period of only 12 years, all the while moving from place to place. She even has her own investment broker, was weapon trained by an ex-military captain and knows enough to check the behind-the-scenes plumbing when she looks to purchase a home. Must have been a busy 12 years.

Overall, an incredible disappointment from an accomplished author. Two stars—and that’s being generous.

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Review: The Last Commercial Ever

The Last Commercial Ever by George Ellis
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Last Commercial Ever is a clever take on an “end of the world” scenario set in motion by a successful television commercial that is aired during the Super Bowl—a commercial, designed by ad gurus Kip and Kelly, that is both light-hearted and well-executed. Before it is set to actually air, however, it is hacked by domestic terrorists and embedded with a series of visual patterns and images that cause fatal seizures. In the blink of an eye, millions die as they engage in the time honored tradition of paying homage to those expensive 30 to 60 second halftime advertising spots that have, in the past, been a source of great entertainment. The aftermath is brutal, the retelling of which takes up the lion’s share of the book.

Author George Ellis is a gifted writer. In this genre of post apocalyptic lit, finding an author like Ellis who can string together a coherent story without a plethora of errors in grammar, spelling, punctuation and typos has become like finding unicorn tears. Additionally, the book itself is well structured, believable and contains enough action to maintain reader interest. In spite of these strengths, however, there were weaknesses profound enough to cost a few stars in the rating process.

First, Ellis is clearly a man who prefers breadth over depth. The number of intersecting and parallel plots is unwieldy—a flaw reinforced by the absolutely inordinate number of characters, none of whom is ever fully developed. Instead, they are formulaically introduced, engage in some activity that may or may not further the plot, and then are rotated out to allow for the next character/set of characters to appear and repeat the process. This constant revolving door was at times disorienting and made it difficult to develop empathy or sympathy for any of the lot. The moment one is swept up in the story unfolding, the perspective is changed. Although some of the story lines intersect, there are others that simply run along a parallel set of tracks. I found myself wishing that Ellis had stuck to just the story of Kip and Kelly instead of allowing for huge periods of time to elapse before returning to them.

My second issue here is again with the characters, but this time it’s for the obvious attempt by the author to appear “woke”. The story has a gay character, a character that is a POC, a widower, a badass beautiful girl and a nerdy guy with self-esteem issues. There are young characters, old characters, educated characters, ignorant characters, and the list goes on. In the end, it felt forced and as if Ellis was inventing scenarios to allow him to include a “United Nations” cast instead of allowing the characters to grow organically from a strong storyline.

Three stars for the unique approach.

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Review: The Woman in the Library

The Woman in the Library by Sulari Gentill
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Woman in the Library, by author Sulari Gentill, is like no other book I’ve ever read.  The risks Gentill takes in turning the traditional structure of a murder mystery on its ear are at once intriguing and frustrating; the source of not only the book’s strengths but also it’s weaknesses.

The chapters in the book are the work of fictional author Hannah Tigone.  She is an Australian writer using a beta reader in the US, Leo Johnson, to help her stay true to the setting she has chosen in the US.  The book initially alternates  between the story Hannah Tigone is writing (a piece set in Boston, the premise of which is a writer developing a murder mystery) and the letters she then receives from her beta reader as she shares with him each chapter upon its completion.  In Leo’s letters to Tigone, he corrects some of her Australian word choices to more appropriate American phrasing and suggests adjustments of details based on the area of Boston where the story is set.  Leo is himself a writer, though he has not enjoyed the successes of Tigone, and he doesn’t hesitate to boldly assert himself in proposing tweaks and changes, some minor and some which could potentially alter the entire plot of Tigone’s work.  His letters become increasingly aggressive in their suggestions as the story progresses; his recommendations more violent and graphic.  The reader is not, however, given any insight into Tigone’s reactions beyond what Leo responds to and a few other communications directed to Tigone that are included (to elaborate on this point would mean spoilers, which I am loathe to include). If it sounds confusing, that’s because it is.  While the “story within a story” has certainly been done before, the structure of The Woman in the Library takes it one step further, testing both the loyalty and patience of the reader.  If the reader doesn’t immediately catch on to what Gentill is trying to do, the result is seemingly unrelated chapters that refuse to connect.  The upshot is that this is a novel that contains chapters of another novel, written by a fictional author, the content of which is the story of a mystery writer awarded a grant  that allows her to travel to the US from Australia in order to write her book.  Those chapters  alternate with letters from the fictional author’s beta reader. Yeah.   It’s quite a monumental task for both author and reader.

I appreciate the risks Gentill takes in her storytelling.  They keep the reader focused, if only to stay on top of the ever-changing perspective and media being shared.  The transitions between Leo’s letters and suggestions and the mystery being written by the fictional author are sometimes awkward and abrupt.  While this may have been intentional, for me it removed me from the story in an effort to “keep up”.  Further more, Gentill’s approach to character development (there was none for Tigone) made the entire book feel distant, as if I as the reader was being held at an arm’s length instead of being invited in to meet the cast.  This feeling of being an outsider colored my ability to invest in either Leo’s spiraling mental state or the story Tigone is writing.  Even the characters within the mystery are under developed and almost ethereal—shallow and transparent to the point of appearing as rough outlines of who they could have become under the direction of a more experienced writer.  

I appear to be in the minority with my rating, as others have placed this squarely in the 5 star category.  For me, however, I could offer only three stars for the novel approach.  Beyond that, there is definitely a lack of substance from the beginning that never does materialize.

Thanks to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for allowing me access to this ARC.  Expected publication is slated for June 7, 2022.

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Review: Everything Must Go

Everything Must Go by Camille Pagán
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I wish I had enjoyed this a bit more!  In theory, the plot works.  Laine is a professional organizer who, at the age of 38, experiences an epiphany of sorts—she wants a baby and her biological clock is ticking louder than a cheap Timex.  Unfortunately, her husband Josh has little interest in expanding the family beyond the two of them.  Moments after telling Josh she wants a divorce, Laine gets a phone call from her sister who impresses upon Laine how important it is for her to come home to New York to help make some long term decisions about their mother’s care, as she is showing increasing signs of dementia.  Home, for Laine, however, holds keys to the past that she isn’t sure she wants to revisit.  There’s her ex BFF Ben and the remnants of a people-pleasing past that she left behind 16 years prior—and both threaten to at once undo her and offer her salvation.

The characters here are supposed to be multi-faceted and on a quest toward self-awareness.  Instead, I found each to be incredibly self-centered, not to mention a little whiny.  The emotional angst that should and usually does accompany many of the life-changing moments in the book is just….absent.  Laine bounces from one relationship to the next with the ease of a child on a trampoline, ending her marriage, confronting her mother and re-engaging with a former friend who has the potential to make things better or a whole lot worse.  She just seems indifferent and emotionally detached.  Those moments when the author does attempt to imbue her with compassion and feeling fall flat, and the reader is left little with which to connect.

There were jumping off points here with the potential for author Camille Pagan to make sweeping statements about everything from single motherhood to racial bias.  Rather than exploring these. Pagan waltzes past them with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.  

All in all, it’s a mediocre quick read that is comprised of a series of strung together events with little emotional impact.

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Review: Black Tide

Black Tide by K.C. Jones
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Reading Black Tide by KC Jones felt like tripping through the imagination of Lewis Carroll as he directed Alice down the rabbit hole. Suddenly reality is skewed and the experience is as if seen through a lens of drug induced hallucinations.

Jones begins with an introduction to Beth—a young woman with a tough as nails exterior and battle scars that hover beneath the surface, coloring her every action and interaction. She is, by necessity, a wanderer, moving from one house sitting job to the next, untethered and uninhibited, with the haunting memories of her mother’s callous parenting chasing her from behind. One evening, while house sitting a beach home and a dog for a wealthy family she notices Mike, the enigmatic man next door, sitting by his fire pit. She finagles an invitation to join him, and their fates collide when that night an unprecedented and unexplained event causes a variety of vicious monsters to suddenly appear on earth—and a variety of earthlings to simply…disappear.

It is in the description of the hellacious alien creatures that author Jones shines, as the horror of each practically drips from the page and into the reader’s psyche. The suspension of disbelief needed to engage with the premise is seamless and occurs without hesitation—truly the hallmark of a writer who knows their audience. As cloud fish, shriekers and bowling ball entities shred the world as we know it to pieces, Jones maintains the banter that forms the basis of the budding relationship between Beth and Mike as they struggle to survive and save one another.

In the same way that the descriptive passages are the strength of the writing, the relationship building aspects of the story are the weakness. Whilst you don’t have to like characters to invest in the story, one does need to have an interest in their predicament and the eventual outcome. In this case, both Beth and Mike were so flawed as to be almost acerbic in their interactions. I had no horse in the race as to whether or not they survived, which tempered my reaction to a number of the presented scenarios. I was completely indifferent to the outcome.

Overall, well written and imaginative, full of vivid imagery that may leave you with nightmares for many days to come. Definitely worth a read for the monsters alone.

Thanks to NetGalley and MacMillan Tor/Forge for allowing me access to an ARC. Publication is scheduled for May 31, 2022.

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Review: Tender is the Flesh

Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I read this based on some good reviews on Amazon and, once again, was hoodwinked.  The story here has good bones, and Bazterrica had an opportunity to make some bold statements.  Instead, however, the reader is treated to vividly descriptive death porn that is simply too over the top to be in any way enjoyable.  Before you label me a prude, consider that I really thought Sick Bastards was well done.  See?  I do have a high tolerance for aberrant behaviors shared to further the plot of an actual story.

The novel is almost expository in nature, detailing contemporary slaughterhouses and how they function in the not so distant future.   Facilities once used to process cattle, pigs and chickens for consumption have had to be renovated for a whole new kind of killing, as, in a long game to control overpopulation, the government has convinced the world that animals carry a deadly virus.  Once all dogs have been euthanized or beat to death, zoo animals have been starved, and birds have been demonized, the government endorses cannibalism to encourage “protein intake”.  The idea of humans for food is slowly introduced into society, and the slaughterhouses morph into killing fields for human beings whose offal, skins and organs are processed and ultimately enjoyed by the wealthy and elite.  Men, women and children (called head), of all walks of life and a variety of “flavors”, are grown to desired specs, then led to a staging area where they are stunned and their throats are slit.  From there, they are bled dry, flayed, shaved, and relieved of their organs and limbs. The entire sequence is shared in gory detail.  The plot that hovers beneath these disconcerting images focuses on a slaughterhouse employee who seeks to salve his grief after losing a child.  I found it to be shallow, ill-conceived and poorly executed—and I didn’t give a whit about one single character in this house of horrors. 

I will not be returning to any of this author’s work.  The nausea from this one is likely to linger long enough to last a lifetime.

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Review: The Match

The Match by Harlan Coben
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Whilst this may not be the best of what Coben has to offer, it’s a compelling read that follows on the heels of The Boy from the Woods.  In this volume, Wilde is back and on the trail of who may possibly be his biological parents.  

Those familiar with the private and guarded Wilde will certainly be pleased to note the consistent character continuity in both his level of introspection and in the relationships surrounding him.  Laila, Hester and Michael are all woven into the plot, and it must be said that I believe this novel to be far more enjoyable if one has read Whilst this may not be the best of what Coben has to offer, it’s a compelling read that follows on the heels of The Boy from the Woods.  In this volume, Wilde is back and on the trail of who may possibly be his biological parents.  

Those familiar with the private and guarded Wilde will certainly be pleased to note the consistent character continuity in both his level of introspection and in the relationships surrounding him.  Laila, Hester and Michael are all woven into the plot, and it must be said that I believe this novel to be far more enjoyable if one has read The Boy from the Woods in order to fully appreciate the supporting cast.  There are countless references and allusions to things that happened between those first pages, and I fear anyone not “in the know” may suffer from not being a part of the inner circle.  In spite of Coben’s attempts to allow enough background to seep in via dialogue and retrospective memories, there just isn’t enough here to stand alone.

One aspect of The Match that was particularly disappointing was that there were so many loose ends.  I actually had more questions after reading than I did beforehand, and I didn’t feel that my level of investment in the book was adequately rewarded when the final page was turned.

In spite of the shortcomings, however, this remains a solid 4 stars.  Look, Coben sets his own bar against which much of the writing out there pales miserably. In comparison to his other work, this is not representative of his best. In comparison to the work of others, however, Coben continues to lead the pack. in order to fully appreciate the supporting cast.  There are countless references and allusions to things that happened between those first pages, and I fear anyone not “in the know” may suffer from not being a part of the inner circle.  In spite of Coben’s attempts to allow enough background to seep in via dialogue and retrospective memories, there just isn’t enough here to stand alone.

One aspect of The Match that was particularly disappointing was that there were so many loose ends.  I actually had more questions after reading than I did beforehand, and I didn’t feel that my level of investment in the book was adequately rewarded when the final page was turned.

In spite of the shortcomings, however, this remains a solid 4 stars.  Look, Coben sets his own bar against which much of the writing out there pales miserably. In comparison to his other work, this is not representative of his best. In comparison to the work of others, however, Coben continues to lead the pack.

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Review: Family Money

Family Money by Chad Zunker
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Family Money, authored by Chad Zunker, is a prime example of a great idea executed in quite mediocre fashion.

The story is that of Alex Mahan and his father-in-law Joe Dobson, a retired attorney. The two share a unique relationship, forged as Joe stepped into the role of father-figure when Alex’s father died. Alex was just sixteen and had been dating Joe’s daughter, Taylor, and while Alex had always respected Joe, it was the strength he gave to Alex at what was possibly the worst time of the boy’s young life that solidified their bond. Eventually, Alex and Taylor married, and Joe and his wife Carol became the consummate in-laws, then grandparents. When Alex struggled to get his own company off the ground, Joe stepped in and loaned Alex five million dollars in start-up capital. Alex’s success thereafter was something he insisted would never have happened without Joe’s support. When the entire family (Alex, Taylor, their two young daughters, Joe and Carol) travels across the border from Texas to Mexico on a humanitarian mission to assist an orphanage in need of funding and repairs, Joe is kidnapped, in broad daylight on a busy street. Alex then embarks on a journey to discover the truth behind Joe’s disappearance and discovers he may not have known his father-in-law at all. As the story unfolds, Joe’s past unravels and decades-old secrets are exposed.

The plot is clever and takes the reader on a journey through Joe’s life through Alex’s eyes. There were well-delineated flashbacks that made the time travel from present to past seamless. Some of the events, however, stretched my willingness to suspend disbelief and disengaged me from the story. Characters were primarily portrayed as noble and honest—willing to risk not only their careers for one another, but also their lives. In light of the secrets that were revealed, however, there were numerous contradictions in the way those characters responded and behaved. Not only were the characters’ actions completely implausible, so were entire scenes. It’s difficult to provide examples without spoilers, but suffice it to say that I found myself simply shaking my head on more than one occasion and mumbling “he would NEVER do that”, and “you’ve got to be kidding”.

Additionally, the language here is very bland. There are few visuals to bring interest to the story—settings are vague, character descriptions generic and the dialogue is very “run of the mill”, the latter of which was most disturbing. I just didn’t find any character development achieved through dialects, speech patterns, word choice, etc. With the exception of some Spanish phrases, each person seemed to be reading a script that refused to differentiate them. Instead of individuals with unique personalities, Zunker created a collective that moved together through the story. It seemed a very Gestalt way to approach the plot, as the whole became greater than the sum of its parts. The characters were never individuals, they were simply part of the extended Mahan-Dobson family unit, outside of which people were expendable and extraneous.

In the end, the book had its merits, primarily in the storyline. Without strong, well-written characters and lively dialogue to bring it to fruition, however, my final reaction was simply “meh”.

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Review: Panic Slowly: A Tomato Soup-Soaked Pandemic Thriller

Panic Slowly: A Tomato Soup-Soaked Pandemic Thriller by Steven Bayley
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

First, I have to confess to never having read any of Steven Bayley’s previous work. If this novel is any indication of the quality, however, it’s probably a good thing, as I’m sure my review will certainly not be very well received in the land of All-Things-Bayley.

Let’s start with the positives. This will be a short paragraph. Look, Bayley can write, and he does so with a poison pen that is sharp and takes no prisoners. It is the satirical wit that flows from that pen that keeps the pages turning. His style is informal and millennial, and the voice created is one that is easy to “hear”. Second, the plot is brilliant. Bayley uses the current Covid outbreak as a foundation upon which he builds a bigger, more horrific virus that leaves in its wake a trail of chaos. 80% of those infected live through the illness with a side effect of incredibly violent predilections, though 2% of the infected recover with no noticeable side effects. As the 2%ers struggle to survive, the “eighties” wreak havoc, and the few uninflected quarantine in small, exclusives groups and self-proclaimed militias. As is often the case, absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the road to perdition for humanity is littered with those who mismanage available assets and rule with iron fists that are tightly clasped around handfuls of greed.

Now for the part that drove me to distraction. Seriously. The story is set in Atlanta, and features characters who are very “American” and even bleed red, white and blue. For some unknown reason, however, these Georgia peaches and out-of-state transplants use COLLOQUIAL BRITISH/AUSTRALIAN  ENGLISH. They toss about words like “gobsmacked” and “cunt”; they go to “hospital” instead of “the hospital”; things are “wee” rather than “little”; and “belts and braces”is apparently an attempt to sound “down home”. They say things like “I was bloody impressed” and “how many of these bloody things were there?” They even call one another “mate”. Each instance of this blatant oversight on the part of the author made me want to scream, so that by the time I reached the final page, I was ready to unleash my pent up tension on the first thing that crossed my path. I apologize to Tybalt, my bengal, who sauntered in just as I was closing the Kindle.

Look, I tried to apply some deep philosophical bent to the whole thing, projecting that these were intentional choices meant to intensify the universality of the virus and the global nature of what remained of the world. Yeah, it didn’t work for me either. I am, myself, “gobsmacked” that the author’s editor let this go to print. Did he/she really not notice?? Is there ANY American who read this and did not notice?? Two stars, and that’s just because I’m nice.

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Review: The Impossible Us

The Impossible Us by Sarah Lotz
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The Impossible Us by author Sarah Lotz is a quirky, fun, heart-breaking sci-fi rom-com that bursts at the seams with originality. I usually inhale books like oxygen, racing through the pages in record time. Here, however, I found myself savoring the moment and wishing the pages would stretch into eternity.

Nick and Bee meet online when Nick accidentally misdirects a scathing message meant to go to a client who hasn’t compensated him for ghost writing a novel. Bee, a seamstress who repurposes wedding wear, receives the missive and responds, thus beginning one of the most beautiful and frustrating love stories ever penned. Back and forth they banter, until finally they both agree it’s time to remove their blindfolds and meet in person. Clearly they are soul mates who have finally found one another. When both arrive at Euston Station for their first encounter, they are unable to connect, in spite of the fact that they are texting in real-time, both insisting they are in the exact same location. Bee is convinced she is being ghosted, but Nick feels there are forces at work that neither of them fully understand. When they finally compare notes, it’s clear that they WERE both at Euston Station—in parallel worlds. Somehow a glitch in the mesh between their worlds has allowed them to connect electronically. Both quickly realize that trading barbs via the internet will never be enough. The novel follows their love story as it unfolds, and the two reach out, grasping only the space that separates them, as they are forced to acknowledge that sometimes even soul mates aren’t guaranteed a future.

First and foremost, the plot is incredibly clever. Melding romance and quantum physics is no small feat, yet Lotz pulls it off with aplomb. Her use of brilliant character development in advance of the parallel world twist is nothing short of genius, as it first allows the reader to establish an investment in Bee and Nick. In doing so, if the reader wants the relationship to continue, it is imperative to suspend disbelief and accept the premise. The investment pays off in ways both large and small, as Lotz delivers barriers and obstacles against a backdrop of a profound connection between the truly star-crossed lovers. As the book winds it’s way to a conclusion, the reader experiences sadness and joy, rooting for the impossible and hoping for a Hail Mary pass.

I cannot recommend this novel strongly enough. Set aside a few hours, find a comfy chair in front of a fireplace or a quiet spot on the beach, and allow yourself to be whisked away on a romantic adventure that will leave you with both smiles and tears.

Thanks to NetGalley and Berkley Publishing for allowing me access to an ARC for review. The scheduled date for publication is March 22, 2022.

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Review: The Perfect Neighborhood

The Perfect Neighborhood by Liz Alterman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The Perfect Neighborhood by Liz Alterman is a five star example of domestic noir. This novel lures you in, closes the door behind you and refuses to let you leave until the last page is turned.

Oak Hill is the setting for the story—an upper middle class/upper class neighborhood where children are instagram-worthy ornaments. Rumors spread like wildfire, and everyone has a secret. It is these secrets that provide the women of Oak Hill with fodder for their lurid gossip. When one of their own, Billy Barnes, a young boy full of curiosity and energy, disappears, the entire neighborhood is shaken. While some try to convince themselves that it is a family issue and that their own children aren’t in any danger, others hold their babies a little closer and trust everyone a little less. At the heart of Billy’s disappearance is Cassidy, the eighteen year old babysitter who was a few minutes late to arrive and meet Billy the day he vanished. As events unfold, Cassidy is further exposed to the uncomfortable spotlight of suspicion, and Oak Hill will never be quite the same.

Alterman has managed to create vivid characters who are as real as one’s own neighbors. In their interactions, they are portrayed as flawed beings with generally good intentions—intentions which are often unfortunately drowning in self-indulgence. Each individual in Alterman’s cast (and the cast is almost unwieldy in its numbers) is unique and imbued with traits that make them distinct individuals rather than simply cogs in a societal wheel. It is her ability to bring these characters to life that is the strength of the novel. Whilst not all are likable, they are all relatable, and this reader was invested in them as they battled their demons and the circumstances that surrounded them.

The plot of The Perfect Neighborhood is one of twists and turns that made the book in my hands disappear as I was lost in the chaos of Oak Hill. Each word on each page appeared intentional with zero page fillers or fluff. Alterman made every syllable count in much the same way a poet might. No detail was overlooked if it in any way added to the story, and no superficial, unnecessary detail was added. Even the red herrings were integral to the plot. Because of this, I found myself engaging in every sentence on every page. I have a tendency to skim when I’m bored—moving quickly through extraneous text that could have been excluded without affecting the outcome. Here, however, there was no skimming as I devoured every word.

The final chapter in this novel is the one that clinched the five star rating. It was unexpected and left me with goosebumps. Though this was the first piece I’ve read by Liz Alterman, I can guarantee it won’t be the last.

Thanks to Net Galley and Crooked Lane Books for the opportunity to review this ARC. Publication is scheduled for July of 2022.

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Review: First Born

First Born by Will Dean
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ 



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Ugh, how I despise being a lone wolf! I know that many truly LOVED this book, but for me First Born, by Will Dean, is a akin to a rollercoaster ride that, though it leaves you nauseous and disoriented, is nonetheless an “experience”.

The novel opens with an introduction to Molly—a British woman with overwhelming situational anxiety. She fears everything, is OCD when it comes to protecting herself and lives in a state of constant angst. Molly’s identical twin sister, KT, is murdered whilst attending Columbia in New York, and is found in her bed by her parents, who are visiting her from England. The story follows Molly as she attempts to battle her insecurities in order to first get “across the pond” to her parents and deceased sister, then to help police solve KT’s murder.

The first chapters of the book reminded me of being out on the ocean in a speed boat. You know there are all these beautiful things to see just below the surface, but your boat is moving so fast, you’re lucky to skim the water. When reading, I felt as if I was missing something important and found myself retracing my steps and rereading passages to be sure I hadn’t. I wanted a deep dive to see what was lurking below and was instead treated to what felt like a cursory overview. That feeling intensified as I read, particularly in one scene in which Molly was traveling on a bus and sharing episodic flashbacks. It was like simultaneously viewing individual cells on two different movie reels—confusing and not particularly enjoyable. Additionally, I never fully understood character James Kandee, his “foundation” or his sponsorship, nor did I see the need for Bagby. His backstory added nothing to the plot, and the character development of Bagby tested the limits of just how far I was willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief. In the end it seemed like every character in some way betrayed who they had been portrayed to be: none remained true throughout to the original character as written, and some of their actions were downright ridiculous. Instead of coming across as “growth”, this lack of continuity, and the author’s tendency to step outside of what could be considered realistic, detracted from the plot in a way that nullified any attempted investment. 

Definitely a quick read, but not necessarily one that will leave you longing for any more.

I’d like to thank Atria Books and Net Galley for providing me with an ARC for review. Publication is slated for July of 2022.