“A near perfect book.” That is how one of my reading BFFs described These Silent Woods. I rarely find books near perfect. But this one… well, my friend was right. 

Vividly atmospheric and full of foreboding. I devoured this book in less than 24 hours, completely consumed by the storyline and wholly dedicated to the characters. This book wrecked me in the best possible way, and it is still sitting with me, even days (and books) later.

Cooper and Finch live a precarious yet beautiful life deep in the woods. It’s a solitary existence built on secrets. Living off grid has never appealed to me. But the inner look at how this father/daughter duo thrive in a basic, secluded environment allured me and made me question: what do we truly need in life?

These characters drew me in and took root in my heart. Cooper has lived a tumultuous life. He’s a man of character, honor, and sacrifice. But he’s also deeply flawed and fully human. Cooper is immensely reflective throughout the story. We get a complete picture of him… past hurts and decisions in contrast to who he wants to be. The lofty standards he sets for himself allude him, as they would most of us. 

Finch is vivacious, brilliant, and utterly charming. Her knack for sharing the perfect Whitman poem in any circumstance melted me (and often made me laugh). She flourishes in an environment that lacks what we often consider basic needs. Which again left me to ponder: What are our true basic needs?

But even beyond the rich individual characterization, Grant adeptly portrays the beauty of the father/daughter bond. Cooper’s fierce love for Finch is pure and resounding, and her utter devotion to him melted my heart. 

The connection I felt to these characters intensified my desperation to know: How can this resolve? I both needed to get to the end and dreaded leaving behind this story. 

This book took me through the breadth of emotion and made me deeply contemplative. It will stay with me for a long time. 

Thank you Kimi Cunningham Grant, St. Martin’s Press, Minotaur Books, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

A unique look at the daring women in the only black battalion of the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corp during WWII.   

 

Grace and Eliza are strong, independent women needing to break away from their domineering families.  At the same time, the Six Triple Eight was being formed, setting the perfect stage for their coming of age transitions. 

 

While set in a historic timeframe, this book is primarily a character study. Grace and Eliza grew up in very different households, and their temperaments and personalities highlight that. Eliza is bubbly and charismatic, while Grace is curt and prickly.  In different circumstances, these women would not likely be friends.  But in war, they must learn to depend on one another.  Just like real sisters, we watch Grace and Eliza bicker while also having each other’s backs.  

As the women transition from training to boots on the ground, both show great strength, resilience, and heart.  Alderson creates a depth in both unique women and their relationship as the book progresses. 

 

The depth seen in the characters takes the space I desired for the historic backdrop.  Ultimately, the storyline lacked the richness of details in the work of the battalion and how these women served a vital role in the wartime mission.  I longed for much more background on this unit and their historic operation.  

 

Overall, this is an enjoyable story that focuses on this courageous sisterhood and the daring black women of the Six Triple Eight.

 

Thank you Kaia Alderson, William Morrow and Custom House, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

 

 

 Heart wrenching, honest, and immersive. In the same vein as Picoult, Pride and Piazza explore all sides of a galvanizing topic in a way that breads unity rather than divisiveness. 

Riley and Jenn’s richly layered bond was forged in early childhood and deepened over time. 
Jenn knew Riley’s lofty career aspirations as well as her drink order. Riley adored Jenn’s aggressive friendliness. But when tragedy happens, both realize that so many things have gone unsaid over the years. And now, they must reckon with the one thing that threatens to divide them. 

This story is told in alternating POV between Riley and Jenn, allowing us to see them distinctly as individuals. In so many areas, they are in sync and of one mind. But on this, their perspectives are as different as night and day. 

Pride and Piazza adeptly utilize Jenn and Riley’s friendship to open this seemingly insurmountable dialogue in a way that permits empathy and understanding. These issues can be so polarizing. Yet in friendship, the issues are experienced through a lens of connectivity rather than divisiveness. Friendships, deep and intimate, have always provided me the best platform for tackling some of the most complex issues in life, which makes the premise of this book ring true and very relatable. 

This book showcases the full gamut of experiences and perspectives, giving a full picture to both sides of this divide (which at times becomes quite heavy). Through Riley and Jenn, this book allowed me to walk through both of their lived experiences, broadening my understanding and compassion. 

This book begs to be read with friends or in community. It will make you feel and reevaluate. And then it’ll make you want to connect. I ruminated on this book for several hours upon reading the last page. Then I immediately reached out to a friend that had also recently read this book. Our dialogue enriched my experience and solidified new perspectives. 

The connection between prologue and epilogue give a fullness to the book that is worth note. 

It would be easy to read the description of this book and think… “Nah. I hear enough of this in the news.” Or to think, “My mind is already made up.” But that would be such a disservice to you and this book. This is a book we need. It is a book I needed. 

Thank you Christine Pride, Jo Piazza , Atria Books, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

If you’re not quite ready for all things pumpkin spice.  If you still want one last summer hurray… The Siren is just what you need.  The location: impeccable.  The resort: luxurious.  The company: scandalous!  This book is the perfect escape from everyday life!  

 

Hollywood goes to the Caribbean.  That should be enough for the perfect summer drama.  But when you add in big egos, dysfunctional relationships, and a murder… that plot becomes dynamic!  

 

There’s lots of intrigue and plenty of mystery.  The juicy plot, told by multiple POVs, unfolds at a satisfying pace while superbly painting a depth to each salacious character.

 

If you enjoy glitz, glamour, and drama… add this guilty pleasure to your list!  (But if I’m honest, I didn’t feel guilty about this one at all! Pure fun!)

“But now, change is frightening to some, and when you open your heart to rewilding a landscape, you’re opening your heart to rewilding yourself.”

 

Beautifully told and profoundly poignant.  This book made me feel deeply and gave me so much to ponder.  I finished the book almost a week ago, and it still sits with me… the beauty of the scenes told in vivid detail and the ponderings of the messaging.    

 

This is a book full of trauma and healing: both of the characters and the land.  The Scottish Highlands no longer thrive as they once did.  Neither do Inti and Aggie.  The land was catapulted into change because of fear.  Sisters wounded and stifled by the same. Which begs the question: can the land and the sisters heal and move forward?  

 

McConaghy’s accomplishments in this novel are numerous.  But the thing that stood out most was the atmosphere she created.  Each scene was painted in cinematic detail.  The descriptions of the land and forest, the wolves adjusting to this new environment, the feel of the Scottish community…they were vibrant and opulent. 

The messaging of the book is more than noteworthy.  It is worthy of distinction.  

“Animals learn their lessons.  They’re smarter than people that way.” 

 

I loved the juxtaposition between the wolves and the humans as the storyline progressed.  The wolves expertly learn to adapt in a foreign environment, while the humans become stilted by emotion, unable to progress and move forward. Whereas the wolves acted upon the evidence in their environment, the human characters perceived all evidence through the lens of emotion, often letting emotion override fact. 

 

The characters are intricately woven as the story unfolds, revealing a depth and richness to each.  McConaghy portrays the broad spectrum of trauma and healing through each, giving an authenticity to their experiences and progress. 

This is one of the most adeptly symbolic books I’ve read in a while.  Its reflective nature made it ideal to read with friends.  Definitely consider reading this one in community.  

 

Gripping, nostalgic, and a bit melancholy.  Brodie’s debut is an exceptionally executed, sweeping tale. 

 

Some books hit all the right notes.  The vivid writing style that paints a brilliant picture.  The richly developed, flawed yet real characters.  The pacing that gives you just what you need yet leaves you yearning for more.  That was this book.  Every note was perfectly harmonized and in sync, creating the loveliest of experiences. 

 

If Jane Quinn had a fan club, I’d be in it.  I felt deeply connected to her, and her lyrics resonated in my soul!  (Hers is an album that I would have played on repeat.)  Jane is full of tenacity and determination, a bit like myself.  Love and heartbreak are friends that catapult her song writing and make her both real and endearing.   

 

Jane is thrust into the music industry by chance at a folk music fest.  Jesse is a bit of a bad boy who’s already on track to stardom, and he is quickly mesmerized by Jane.  When the two connect, it’s kismet.  This book is like a time capsule back to the 70s music scene: sex, drugs, rock-n-roll…all with a side of patriarchy.  Jane’s story feels impeccably true to the folk-rock genre and the music industry of that time period. And it’s hard to reconcile that her story is fiction rather than biography.  

 

In the same vein as Taylor Jenkins Reid, Brodie’s writing is beautiful and breathtaking.  The way she paints a picture with words is truly masterful.   I know there has been some likening to Daisy Jones and the Six, which I can see.  But I see the connection between Brodie and Reid much broader.  They both have a way of capturing a story in vivid detail that is panoramic and sweeping.  

“It was the thing that had most surprised him about being married:  half the time he didn’t know what he thought until he said it out loud to her.”

 

Logging is in Rich’s blood.  Being a fourth-generation logger, those trees are as much a way of life to him as being a husband and a dad.  This look into life in a 1970’s logging community is told through the alternating perspectives of Rich and his wife, Colleen.  While Rich is focused on hard work and providing for his family, Collen is the nurturer, both to her family and other women in the community.  Colleen’s longing for another child is met with bitter disappointment at miscarriage after miscarriage.  As the community becomes embroiled in a battle between ecology and economy, Rich and Colleen find themselves with different perspectives on the future.  

 

Davidson paints an adept picture of deep family bonds, hardworking people, everyday struggles, the complexities of communities in flux, and the battle to change long-term patterns of belief.  I came away with a strong connection to this way of life and what a family looked like as change upended them.  

 

While the premise of the book drew me in, the execution of the pacing fell short.  This is a book that demands patience.  75% of the book is slow and steady, often bogged down in technical logging terminology.  But that last 25% is satisfyingly told at a break neck speed, full of action and more acutely focused.  

Thank you to Ash Davidson, Scribner, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

Riveting, pulse racing, and wholly consuming.  Full of anguish and peril. 

One decision can change your whole life.  Not those hard decisions. The small ones.  Taking an extra shift at work.  Scheduling a repair man.  One minute, life is full of coffee and kisses.  The next is chaos like you’ve never imagined.   Those little decisions often lead to much bigger, more impactful decisions.  After taking that extra shift at work, Captain Hoffman faces the most difficult, ridiculous decision of his life:  crash a plane full of innocent people or his family dies.  

This audiobook came off hold over a busy weekend.  Knowing my jam-packed schedule, I was only going to listen for a tiny bit while running a solo errand.  But then I got home and couldn’t stop.  I listened as I fixed lunches.  I listened as we headed to the baseball game.  I fought to find chances to listen all throughout the busy day.  And later that night when my family “needed” things from me, I vowed to hide from them if necessary to finish this book!  I was completely and totally captivated.  I couldn’t pull myself away.  I may never be able to fly cross country again. But I finished this book in one (busy) day.  

Newman’s experience as a flight attendant gave this book depth and validity.  The inside trade secrets, the mannerisms of the crew, and the overall goal of safety created an authentic atmosphere and enthralled me, a (pre-covid) frequent flyer.  

This book is more than thrill though. The spotlight on American privilege is worth pondering.  And the overall message Newman leaves us with is utterly important:  keep learning, keep listening, and partner with others to do the necessary work.  

Gripping, dark and sinister.  This is a unique crime thriller and police procedural that will leave you chilled by what people are capable of. 

 

Lethal Game is the second book in this new series by Gallagher, and it picks up shortly after that of The Friend ends, with ramifications of the last case looming over Norris and Rose. I particularly liked the deeper dive we were able to get into Rose’s background.  Both Norris and Rose continue to evolve as this series finds a comfortable footing. 

 

A game is supposed to be fun.  This one gets taken way too far and comes with dire consequences.  And it’s a gritty, jaw clenching game.  Just when the police think they are understanding the rules, they become pawns in this escapade.  There are a lot of moving pieces that will keep you guessing.

 

The sense of foreboding is heavy in this new book.  With years of experience in the criminal justice system, Gallagher lays out a complex yet believable, edge of your seat thriller.  It’s well executed and obviously steeped in insider knowledge.  

 

Thank you to Charlie Gallagher, Avon Books UK, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy of this book.

 

An easy, unique read.  Huxley, a precocious 7-year-old boy, narrates our story and gives us a birds’ eye view of how he sees the complexities of life around him.  We often discount the young as naïve.  But sometimes they surprise us with their ability to see clearly without the obstruction stress and responsibility.  This is evident of Huxley.  While all around him, he is exposed to bullying, bigotry, ableism, and all-around adult stupidity, Huxley manages to keep a clear head while fighting for what is right.    

 

The overall messages of the story are greatly important.  Bullying is never ok, whether done by children or adults (maybe most especially when done by adults!).  And snap judgments, particularly harsh ones, often prove wrong.  

 

I think it’s particularly difficult to write an entire book from a child’s perspective.  As adult readers, we expect a certain degree of depth not yet afforded to the young, even the clever young. While some of Huxley’s musings were age appropriate, I found much of it to be vastly unreasonable.  As an elementary teacher and mom, it was difficult to reconcile the character with his age.  

 

While many of the hiccups in this book can be overlooked, I found incredible distaste for the manner in which the disabled character was portrayed.  Yes, it does tie in to the messaging.  But no, that does not compensate for the way this character was portrayed for 80% of the book.  We see this character abused throughout (almost) the entire book by adults and children.  Then suddenly and quickly the script is flipped, and the book is ended.  The proportion of problem (abuse) to solution was not adequate. And because of this, the messaging suffered.  

 

Many thanks to Gail Aldwin for the opportunity to read and review a copy of this book.