The Glastonbury Triangle

Stephen Ford’s third novel, The Glastonbury Triangle, is a smart, atmospheric blend of contemporary investigative thriller and ancient British lore. It manages to be both a fast-paced page-turner and a thoughtful meditation on the tension between belief, science, and nature. I appreciate a book that doesn't just entertain but offers a deeper dive into the cultural fault lines of modern Britain, and Ford delivers on this front. The professional, yet easily accessible tone of the writing makes it a smooth read, grounding the more fantastical elements in a recognisably messy reality.

The story drops us immediately into the world of Simon Chewton, a journalist for the sensationalist The Daily Trumpet, sent to Glastonbury to write a puff piece on a new Arthurian-themed attraction, the Knights of Camelot theme park, owned by the aristocratic Marquess of Mendip. Chewton, however, is quickly drawn into a far more sinister narrative. The Marquess's stately home becomes the backdrop for a police investigation into missing persons, hinting at a potential cover-up involving powerful figures. This setup, in which a cynical journalist finds himself over his head, is a classic device, and Ford uses it effectively to propel the mystery forward.

The Glastonbury Triangle weaves together several powerful and conflicting themes. Central to the narrative is the exploration of myth, legend, and spirituality against the modern world. Glastonbury, a town steeped in Arthurian lore, serves as a natural battleground for two distinct communities: the traditional, Christian Moral Multitude and the local Pagan and Wicca counterculture. Chewton’s professional pursuit of a sensational story is complicated by his personal search for his girlfriend, Jenny, who has embraced the local pagan scene.

Layered over this spiritual conflict is a chilling theme of unethical science and conspiracy. We get glimpses of a shady research operation involving Dr. Shorbody and the Marquess, discussing "accelerated breeding" and the creation of "hybrid organisms" and "strange mutant creatures". The author is clearly tackling fundamental philosophical questions here, such as the nature of life and where the human spirit fits within the broader natural world. The missing persons, the Marquess’s mysterious 'spiritual advisor' Philomena, and the suggestion of a prehistoric time warp all coalesce into a compelling, modern-day conspiracy thriller rooted in the ancient energy of the land.

This book will particularly appeal to readers who enjoy stories that blur the lines between science fiction, fantasy, and mystery. It’s a great choice for those intrigued by the Arthurian legend and the modern-day Pagan and New Age movements. If you're a fan of investigative thrillers where the protagonist has to make moral compromises to uncover the truth, you'll find plenty to appreciate in Simon Chewton's journey. The Glastonbury Triangle is a success, offering a heady mix of ancient mystery and modern-day intrigue.


First Descent: A Contemporary Fantasy Holiday Adventure

Mike Pace’s First Descent, the first novel in The Crevasse Trilogy, grabs you from its opening pages and doesn’t let go. It begins with an Arctic expedition gone horribly wrong, a scene that combines the awe of scientific discovery with the primal terror of nature. “Virgil Landowski took a deep breath and unzipped the tent flap,” Pace writes, immediately dropping readers into a blizzard of suspense and desperation. The frigid isolation, the creeping madness of the unknown, and the sheer intensity of the setting make for an unforgettable start. You can practically feel the ice cutting against your skin.

The story then jumps eighteen years later to Virgil’s son, Nick Landowski, a blue-collar geologist working in a Nevada gold mine. Nick’s character embodies a grounded, everyman appeal. He’s not some superhero genius, just a hard worker haunted by his father’s disappearance. The author balances adventure with introspection, showing how Nick’s life has been shaped by his father’s mysterious past. When Nick discovers a secret hidden inside a geode, the story shifts into high gear. The moment when the geode shatters and reveals the embedded key is both symbolic and thrilling, blending the novel’s recurring themes of legacy, belief, and the fine line between science and myth.

What stood out most to me was how First Descent marries the scientific and the supernatural without losing credibility. Pace writes with a confident, cinematic style that keeps the pacing brisk. The mine sequences, for example, are incredibly tense. When a malfunction threatens a coworker’s life, Nick’s impulsive heroism leads to a miraculous save; one that hints at forces beyond coincidence. “The geode appeared flighted to miss the machine completely. Then it cut a sharp right-angle and flew hard into the open gears.” That moment left me breathless and suspicious all at once. Was it luck, fate, or something more? The author smartly leaves that question simmering.

First Descent explores the intersection of faith and evidence: how people decide what to believe when confronted with the impossible. It’s also about inheritance: not just what parents leave behind materially, but how their obsessions, hopes, and failures imprint on their children. Nick’s frustration with his father’s “crazy” quest for red diamonds (“the rarest, most valuable diamonds on Earth”) becomes a metaphor for reconciling logic with longing. By the time he sets out to uncover the truth himself, the reader can feel his transformation from cynic to believer.

Pace’s prose is cinematic and immersive, perfect for fans of thrillers like James Rollins’ Sigma Force series or Michael Crichton’s Sphere. The blend of scientific realism and speculative mystery will appeal to readers who enjoy grounded adventures that flirt with the fantastical. It’s also a great pick for those who like father-son narratives with emotional depth beneath the action. In short, First Descent is a pulse-pounding mix of science, myth, and mystery. For readers who love ancient secrets, Arctic landscapes, and intelligent thrillers with heart, this is one descent worth taking.


Destiny of a Free Spirit

Stephen Ford’s Destiny of a Free Spirit is a thought-provoking debut that wraps a compelling, character-driven narrative inside a rich, post-apocalyptic science fiction framework. I often appreciate novels that combine heart-pounding action with genuine intellectual depth, and Ford successfully delivers on both fronts. The central conceit of the novel is the division of the world, following a catastrophic "Cataclysm", into two distinct realms: Economica, the remnants of structured, technology-dependent civilization, and Ecologia, a vast, untouched nature reserve where a pre-industrial "Wild Folk" community lives in devotion to the Earth Mother, Gaia.

The narrative follows Peter, a man from Economica who has discovered a secret subterranean portal, allowing him to travel illegally between the worlds. Ford immediately plunges the reader into the primal dangers of Ecologia, beginning with a visceral, tense battle against a sabre-toothed cat that threatens the community Peter has found a home with. This opening is sharp and gripping, but the novel’s real strength lies in the quieter, introspective moments that follow, where Peter grapples with his dual existence.

The novel is rich in contrasting themes, which elevate it beyond simple action-adventure:

Nature vs. Civilization and Environmentalism: This is the primary conflict. Ecologia represents the True Natural Path, while Economica embodies the technological arrogance and potential for self-destruction—the domain of Vulcan, the Lord of Destruction. The book is a powerful ecological parable, contrasting the soul-enriching hardship of the wild with the artificiality of a structured, sanitized modern world.

Governance, Control, and AI: Governing both realms is The Commission, which the Wild Folk revere as the deity Commissum. Ford subtly explores dystopian control, suggesting that this global artificial intelligence manages both populations: withholding technological knowledge from the inhabitants of Economica and literally marking the people and large animals of Ecologia with what Peter suspects are tracking devices for "protection".

Identity and Destiny: Peter's journey is fundamentally a search for where he belongs. As a man who is clearly intellectual but also thrives in the wilderness, he must choose his Destiny: the comfort and business prospects of his life in Economica, or the rugged freedom and emotional connection he has found in Ecologia, particularly with a young woman named Freya. The chapters titled "Mental Health" and "Outdoor Recreation"  further ground this internal struggle, positing the physical and spiritual benefits of the wild world as a cure for the disaffection of the "civilized" one.

Destiny of a Free Spirit is highly recommended for several distinct groups of readers. It will appeal to fans of post-apocalyptic and ecological science fiction who enjoyed the world-building of books like A Canticle for Leibowitz or classic survivalist narratives. Its blend of high-concept AI governance and primitive living will resonate with anyone interested in themes of technological critique and deep ecology. Lastly, readers who appreciate a novel where the protagonist is internally torn between two loves, the ambitious career path and the simple life, exemplified by his choice between two different women, Celia and Freya, will find Peter’s quest for his true self deeply engaging. It’s an intelligent, absorbing read that asks a fundamental question: What is the true cost of civilization, and what does it mean to be truly free?


Rose Dhu

Mark Murphy’s novel, Rose Dhu, is a sophisticated and atmospheric thriller that plunges the reader into the heart of Savannah society before ripping the velvet curtain away to expose the rot underneath. From the opening pages, a sense of deep foreboding grips the narrative, centered on the sudden and baffling disappearance of Dr. Janie O’Connor, a brilliant and beloved 36-year-old surgical attending. This is not a simple whodunit; it is a masterclass in misdirection that explores the ultimate cost of self-preservation.

The initial mystery captivates: How could a woman so meticulously organized vanish without a trace from her ancestral home? All eyes immediately fall on Janie's powerful, scandal-prone ex-fiancé, Phillip Carruthers, the scion of Savannah’s wealthiest family. The relentless investigation is shouldered by Detective Frank Winger, a world-weary investigator with a soldier’s understanding of moral complexity. His search for the missing doctor is plagued by the very political machinations and established wealth that perpetually protect the city’s elite.

What elevates Rose Dhu beyond a standard mystery is its stunning mid-story revelation. The reader discovers that Janie did not merely vanish; she meticulously orchestrated her own demise, transforming the narrative from a police procedural into a profound exploration of ultimate sacrifice. She creates a macabre, perfect crime, with a flawless disappearance, by amputating her own pinkie finger and using it along with blood, bone, and teeth as tragic "evidence," burying it in the marsh to cement her new freedom. This act of self-mutilation transforms her disappearance into a calculated escape, embodying the novel’s central theme: how much one is willing to sacrifice for the people one loves. Janie’s choice, shedding her identity and faking her death, is the ultimate, terrifying price she pays to ensure her sister, Diane, remains safe from the Carruthers family's dangerous orbit.

Murphy is keenly interested in exposing "the monster who hides its profound evil under a veneer of socialization." This theme is brilliantly personified by Phillip Carruthers, the charming “Playboy Phil” whose social dominance masks a predatory nature capable of ordering violence and covering up heinous crimes, including the rape of Diane by his employee. The book masterfully links the glamour of Savannah's old-money class to the corrosive nature of their unchecked power.

The moral weight of the story ultimately falls upon Detective Winger. He operates on the philosophy that life is often "painted in shades of gray," and this belief drives the novel’s moving climax. When he finally tracks Janie down, now living as Alice Tubman, his decision to forgo his professional duty and let her go is a powerful, understated statement on where true justice lies, often outside the rigid confines of the law. Rose Dhu is a thrilling, character-driven story that is both shocking and deeply satisfying. It uses the old-world charm of Savannah, with its beautiful, moss-draped live oaks and haunted marshland setting, as a crucial character, enhancing the chilling atmosphere throughout. Highly recommended.


Incident at Cougar Creek

Mary Flodin's Incident at Cougar Creek is much more than your average mystery; it’s an eco-thriller with a dash of mythology, a profound love story, and a sensitive exploration of trauma that leaves you thinking long after the final page. As someone who appreciates a story with both a breakneck pace and a beating heart, I found this book offered a genuinely satisfying balance.

The story drops us immediately into the deep end with a truly shocking opening: a California Fish and Wildlife Officer, Colin Dawson, discovers a dying mountain lion that, in its final moments, transforms into a naked woman. Colin, a former Army Ranger grappling with the demons of combat-related PTSD, is instantly thrown into an impossible homicide investigation. The professional side of him records his observations, noting the bizarre arrow wound and the evidence of a high-tech killer. The sympathetic side, however, is overwhelmed, whispering, “I'm sorry this happened to you,” as he gently closes the victim's eyes.

Flodin's brilliance is in weaving these seemingly disparate elements together. The sheer shock of the initial scene is tempered by the profound pain carried by the main characters. The author sensitively portrays those dealing with unresolved PTSD, showing how past horrors can feel as immediate as the present. This thread of trauma and resilience is central, as Colin and the victim's daughter, Delfina, are two "wounded souls, hunted by monsters, bound by destiny".

The book also shines a light on crucial social and environmental issues. The stunning, fragile backdrop of the California Central Coast is essential to the plot, not just scenery, revealing the "urgent need for conservation of wild California's fragile central coast ecosystem". This is truly an eco-thriller, where the threat to the land is as palpable as the threat to human life. You feel the setting, especially in moments like when Colin senses "the arrow that killed Ramona still moving through the landscape, shredding and tearing into the soul of this sacred land". And for those who enjoy the fantastical, the supernatural mystery is wonderfully executed, hinting at deeper Indigenous mythology. Early in the book, the transformation scene is described with captivating intensity: "Frozen in horror, Delfina watched Ramona shape shift-subtly at first, then all at once. The transformation was so radical, so grotesque, that Delfina could not doubt what she saw, although her mind would not make sense of it".

Incident at Cougar Creek is an intricately plotted, deeply engaging murder mystery and love story, packed with action and intrigue.

This book is a must-read for fans of eco-thrillers and those who enjoy fast-paced mysteries with a mythological twist. It will especially resonate with readers who appreciate complex, nuanced characters dealing with PTSD and the journey toward healing. Finally, audiences interested in themes of Indigenous people's concerns and conservation of wild lands will find this a timely and meaningful read. If you like authors who blend genres—say, a touch of Tana French's psychological depth with the environmental urgency of Carl Hiaasen, you should absolutely pick up this book.


The Gordian Knot

David O. Thomas’s The Gordian Knot is less a conventional police procedural and more a rigorous philosophical examination wrapped in the grim cloak of detective fiction. The novel’s central achievement lies in its willingness to confront the complex, often contradictory, ethical obligations placed upon law enforcement professionals. It poses a vital question: when the system itself is the source of corruption and moral decay, what does 'doing one's duty' truly mean?

The narrative excels by focusing intensely on the internal life of its protagonist, Detective Frank, who operates within a world where the lines between justice and institutional inertia have long been erased. The author uses Frank’s deteriorating personal life, his badge becoming both an instrument of intimidation and an excuse for his failures, to mirror the decline of the public trust he represents. This is not a story of solving a single mystery; it’s the mystery of how good men survive in a fundamentally broken apparatus.

A key turning point, and the novel's most profound moment, involves the triple tragedy at the end. The murder of the sociopathic killer, Samantha, by a fellow officer, Mike, becomes the catalyst for Frank’s final, symbolic act. The author presents Mike's stunned reaction as the second homicide, the death of the hopeful, ethical detective Mike could have been. This dramatic framing allows Thomas to comment on the systemic violence inherent in the job, which destroys not just victims and perpetrators, but the very people sworn to uphold the law.

The decision by Frank to discard his badge into a trashcan is the culmination of the novel’s title: an acknowledgement that the intractable problem (the 'Gordian Knot' of police corruption and moral compromise) cannot be untied by slow, bureaucratic effort, but must be cut through with a drastic, final action. This act is not one of resignation, but of moral clarity. Frank is absolving himself of an allegiance to a system he deems unredeemable, preferring silence and moral autonomy over complicity.

While the pacing can feel deliberate, reflecting the monotonous, crushing weight of the detectives’ daily routine of dealing with "society’s garbage," this slow burn is essential to the novel's thesis. It prepares the reader for the shocking finality. The Gordian Knot demands that its readers look beyond the simple 'good cop/bad cop' dichotomy and wrestle with the institutional forces that turn service into cynicism. It’s an essential read for anyone interested in the ethical cost of maintaining order in a flawed society. I highly recommend it for its intellectual depth and unflinching gaze at the dark side of obligation.


The Gordian Knot

Forget your cozy mysteries and your clean, TV-friendly cop dramas. David O. Thomas’s The Gordian Knot hits you like a cheap shot to the ribs. This is street-level grit, stained with blood and moral rot, and it doesn't flinch. Thomas gets the stench of the job, the exhaustion of seeing the worst of humanity, and the utter, soul-crushing thanklessness of it all. It’s pure concrete realism.

The atmosphere Thomas builds is claustrophobic and authentic. Right from the start, the detectives are wading through "society’s garbage," not celebrated for their work, but "spit upon by the public for doing his job." That line alone is worth the price of admission, because it captures the central conflict of the cop's life: witnessing the "greatest horrors mankind can contrive" and being hated for it. This isn't drama; this is the reality of the beat.

The character of Detective Frank is the perfect weary conduit for this narrative. His twenty years on the force haven't just aged him; they've eroded him. The description of his badge, how it’s been a tool to "intimidate suspects and witnesses" and also his excuse for personal failure, is a masterpiece of economy. It tells you everything you need to know about the man and the double-edged sword he carries. Frank doesn't talk much, but he doesn't need to. Every internal thought is a brick in the wall of his disillusionment.

The climax is brutal and unforgettable. We see the bad cop, Samantha, described as a "sociopathic killer," finally inert, lying in the "effluvia of her own blood." But the focus immediately shifts to the collateral damage: Mike. Mike, forced to pull the trigger, is the one left sitting in a "stupor," his soul "stunned and battered." Thomas calls it a "double homicide" because the man Mike was, the detective he could have been, is dead. That’s the true horror show, not the killer, but the cost to the decent guy trying to stop her.

Frank's final walk-off, dropping the symbol of his identity, his badge, into the trash, is the only possible ending for this kind of story. It's the ultimate protest against the "intangible forces" directing the "cavalcade of carnage." He doesn't solve the problem; he rejects it. For fans of hard-boiled fiction who appreciate a detective story that delivers a moral and philosophical gut-punch, The Gordian Knot is required reading. It’s dark, it’s true, and it’s damn good.


The Gordian Knot

The Gordian Knot is a heartbreaking meditation on what it means to be a witness, to crime, to corruption, and ultimately, to one's own erosion. David O. Thomas has crafted a narrative that is less about plot mechanics and more about psychological excavation, making you feel the heavy, oppressive atmosphere that hangs over Detective Frank and his colleagues. It felt deeply personal, like an intrusion into a private space of failure and trauma.

The book captures the profound isolation of these law enforcement lives. They are the ones who “seek the clues that no one else cares about,” constantly surrounded by death and human failing. This burden of being society’s repository for trauma is the true 'knot' of the story. You feel the silence, the coldness, and the deep, abiding professional distance they must cultivate just to survive the daily intake of horror.

The most poignant example of this psychological cost is Mike, the younger detective. When he is forced to confront the killer Samantha, and the resulting violence leaves her covered with a yellow plastic blanket, the focus immediately shifts to Mike’s broken state. He is not celebrated as a hero; he is destroyed as a man. The author’s choice to label Mike’s destruction as the third of the "triple homicide" (after Samantha's death and Mike’s lost potential) is incredibly moving. It elevates the incident from a simple justified shooting to an institutional failure, where the price of justice is the destruction of the person who delivers it.

The ending, in which Frank drops his badge, his twenty-year "constant companion," into a trash can, is a moment of profound, painful relief. It’s an admission that the system is unfixable. The badge, which was supposed to be a tool of honor, had become a means to justify his personal failings and absences from his family. By abandoning it, Frank is shedding the last piece of the identity that made him complicit and miserable.

This isn't an easy read. It’s slow, deliberate, and emotionally heavy, mirroring the slow stupor of the characters’ lives. But it is vital. The Gordian Knot offers a rare, vulnerable glimpse into the detective's psyche, reminding us that those who carry the weight of our society's violence are often the most wounded. If you appreciate character studies that explore trauma and moral responsibility over thrilling action, this book will stay with you long after the final page.


The Gordian Knot

Reading David O. Thomas’s The Gordian Knot felt like pulling back the curtain on the deepest, most exhausted corners of our local police department. This isn't the slick, heroic version of law enforcement we see on television; it’s a raw, sometimes painful look at the human cost of policing. The book resonates deeply because it focuses on empathy; the empathy lost by the officers and the empathy owed to them by the public.

What struck me most profoundly was the depiction of the routine, dehumanizing nature of the detectives’ work. Thomas describes the forensic team processing scenes "like automatons," cataloging evidence that "no one else cares about." This image is heartbreaking. It shows how the system grinds down the humanity of the individuals who have to bear witness to society's greatest horrors. It made me realize that the public's perception of them, as either heroes or villains, misses the reality of people desperately trying to find clues amid the effluvia of human misery.

The personal toll is devastatingly explored through Detective Mike, a character who represents the potential for idealism in the force. His presence at the final shootout, where he is forced to kill the corrupt officer Samantha, becomes the story's emotional anchor. Thomas writes that the second death in this incident is "that of the detective Mike might have become," suggesting that the internal review process and the moral trauma of the act will fundamentally destroy his ability to serve with hope. This is a powerful, tragic idea that forces us to question how we support, or fail to support, our officers after they face such traumatic events.

Another compelling detail is the description of Frank’s badge: a "constant companion" that served as "an excuse to present to his family for his many absences and personal failures." This small detail speaks volumes about the sacrifice and imbalance in their lives. The badge, meant to symbolize protection, has instead become a barrier to personal connection.

The conclusion, with Frank dropping his badge into a trash can, is utterly shattering. It's a statement about burnout and moral rejection. For Frank, the intangible forces of evil and the impossible demands of the job are a "triple homicide," with the system as the ultimate killer. This ending left me with a deep sense of sorrow for the characters and a renewed motivation to bridge the gap between community and police, recognizing the profound damage done to those who patrol the fault lines of society. This book is a necessary, empathetic read.


Wordle Limericks

I came to Wordle a bit later than my grandchildren, but once I started, I was completely hooked. It’s such a lovely, small ritual to start the day. Now, Dr. Marshall S. Flam’s Wordle Limericks (FLAMERICKS) Volume 1 has added a whole new layer of joy and good-natured fun to the experience. This book is an absolute darling. It’s wholesome, wonderfully witty, and a testament to how much joy we can find in the little things in life.

The limerick is one of the most cheerful forms of poetry, with its bouncy rhythm and predictable, often mischievous, ending. Dr. Flam uses this form to perfection. The poems aren't complicated; they're simply clever and deeply relatable to anyone who has stared at a screen trying to coax a vowel out of three gray boxes. It’s the kind of book that makes you feel like you’re sharing a private joke with the author and everyone else who plays the game.

I loved the limericks that explored words with unconventional letters. There's a particular one that comes to mind, a whole poem dedicated to the letter 'Q'—how rare it is, how often we toss it in hoping for a miracle, and the challenge of finding that necessary 'U' to pair with it. The poem detailed the silly mental gymnastics you go through to justify a 'Q' guess on your fourth line when you know you probably shouldn't. The final little twist, that sixth line, was a chuckle-worthy note that brought the whole poem together, something about hoping the answer wasn't Q-U-I-Z-Z. It’s a delightful wink at the reader.

This collection is perfect for relaxing with. I keep it next to my favorite armchair with my morning cup of tea. The print is clear, the formatting is easy on the eyes, and you can easily jump in anywhere.

In a world that often takes itself far too seriously, Wordle Limericks (FLAMERICKS) Volume 1 is a refreshing reminder to laugh at our own small daily struggles, whether it's a difficult puzzle or just a minor inconvenience. It’s a charming blend of the literary and the digital, and it makes a perfect gift, especially for grandparents or anyone who appreciates classic humor and wordplay. Dr. Flam, you’ve created something truly unique and joyous. This book is an absolute five-star success.


Wordle Limericks

As someone who loves both language and logic games, I was immediately drawn to the premise of Wordle Limericks (FLAMERICKS) Volume 1. Dr. Marshall S. Flam has managed to bridge the gap between two seemingly disparate worlds, the analytical, pattern-matching challenge of Wordle, and the structured, rhyming whimsy of the limerick. The result is a book that is far more than just casual entertainment; it's a celebration of wordcraft and wit that delights the reader on multiple levels.

My enjoyment comes from analyzing how the author integrates the daily Wordle experience into the poetic form. A true limerick relies on strong meter and the classic AABBA rhyme scheme, and Dr. Flam handles this with impressive dexterity. But the unique challenge here is tying that structure to the constrained world of the five-letter word, the yellow and green boxes, and the sheer guesswork involved.

For example, I particularly loved the section dedicated to words that end in 'Y' (like M-A-N-G-Y or H-A-I-R-Y). There’s a beautiful series of rhymes focusing on the frustration of guessing words where the 'Y' is almost always the fifth letter, yet it's often the hardest to secure. One limerick had a great internal rhythm, speaking about the "misery of the fifth box," following up with a rhyme about how a simple letter can "make one perplex," and then detailing the alphabetical torture of cycling through options. The final, added sixth line was something like, "At least it was a two-syllable word!"—a humorous nod to the limerick’s own meter.

This book has become a fantastic tool for my own creative stimulation. It’s inspired me to look at my own daily Wordle guesses not just as a mathematical probability exercise, but as a mini-narrative waiting to be written. I often find myself trying to anticipate what Dr. Flam’s poem for a specific word might have been, or what rhyming words he might have used to match the puzzle’s theme. It’s truly a testament to the book’s intellectual playfulness.

Another element that deserves applause is the book’s lighthearted yet sophisticated approach to language. The introduction promises "LAUGH & LEARN," and it delivers. The author, being an MD, subtly weaves in fascinatingly complex words that elevate the vocabulary without feeling pretentious, which is exactly the tone I aim for in my own reading and writing. The sheer variety of words, from the simple to the obscure, ensures that every limerick feels fresh and surprising.

It is rare to find a book that feels so utterly contemporary in its inspiration, yet so classically executed in its form. Wordle Limericks (FLAMERICKS) Volume 1 is the perfect gift for any literary friend, puzzle enthusiast, or anyone looking for a genuinely clever and positive read that respects their intelligence while tickling their funny bone. It’s a book to savor, share, and return to whenever you need a dose of quick, witty fun. Highly recommended!


Wordle Limericks

In the tech industry, we appreciate efficiency, clean execution, and clever problem-solving. Wordle is, at its core, a daily exercise in algorithmic efficiency and information theory. So, when I heard about Dr. Marshall S. Flam’s Wordle Limericks (FLAMERICKS) Volume 1, I was intrigued by the idea of applying creative, poetic constraints to this specific digital problem. The result is a fascinating and genuinely hilarious crossover that speaks directly to the logic-meets-creativity mindset.

This book is, without a doubt, the perfect coffee-break companion. I often find myself needing a mental reset that doesn't involve staring at another screen. FLAMERICKS provides that quick, focused burst of fun. The author has done a masterful job of translating the specific pain points of the Wordle experience, the near-miss, the elusive final letter, the dreaded repeat letter, into the metered cadence of a limerick. It's an instant dopamine hit for anyone who appreciates the precision of language and code.

A perfect example is the limerick dedicated to the first guess. We all know the optimal starting words, and this specific poem humorously detailed a colleague's commitment to using the word Z-Y-M-I-C just to be rebellious. The punchline, delivered masterfully through the added sixth line, concluded with something like, "That guess made the server scream, Fatal Error!" This kind of meta-humor, combining the technical world with the literary one, is spot-on for anyone working in development or data science. It's smart, accessible, and highly shareable.

I’ve even started using these Limericks as conversation starters around the office, which is a rare feat for a physical book in a digitally saturated environment. Sending a funny quote from the book, say, the one about the difficulty of tracking down a word with the letters P, I, V, O, T, is a great way to bond with the team over a shared digital ritual. It’s a subtle reminder that even our seemingly most isolated digital hobbies are built on universal experiences.

Dr. Flam’s ability to maintain a positive and lighthearted tone throughout, even when describing Wordle failure, is commendable. It underscores the spirit of the game itself; it’s supposed to be fun, not frustrating. The book feels like a collective celebration of a simple game that brought a lot of people joy. The effort put into the structure and flow of the poems, the consistency of the rhyme and meter, is truly the work of a dedicated craftsman.

FLAMERICKS Volume 1 is highly recommended for anyone who loves puzzles, word games, or just needs a clever, refreshing break. It’s a beautifully executed project that proves you can find creative inspiration in the most surprising places. Get it, read it, and share the wordplay. Now I’m off to find the perfect starting word for my review of Volume 2!


Wordle Limericks

Life in my forties, juggling a demanding job, family schedules, and the relentless mental load, means that finding genuine, quality moments of peace or, failing that, a quick, impactful laugh, is a treasure. I’ve always enjoyed my morning Wordle, seeing it as a small, contained victory to start the day. But Dr. Flam’s Wordle Limericks Volume 1 has taken that simple pleasure and amplified it tenfold. This book isn't just a novelty; it’s a genuinely clever and necessary escape for the modern, overscheduled mind.

What I adore most is the pure, accessible wit. Marshall S. Flam, MD, has managed to capture the exact feeling of frustration, triumph, and sheer randomness that the daily puzzle presents, and compress it into that perfectly bouncy AABBA form. The addition of the "sixth line" acts as a punchline or a meta-commentary, often delivering the biggest chuckle.

For example, there’s one limerick I read while standing in line for my kid’s school pick-up, which perfectly encapsulated a miserable Wordle day where I got three gray boxes in the first line. The limerick ended with a line about how the perfect starting word, A-R-I-S-E, provided the worst possible feedback, making the subsequent rhyme about feeling foolish all the more relatable. The sixth line just added, "I should have used 'ADIEU' instead!" It was a moment of pure, shared understanding, that particular type of brain-burn we all get when the seemingly obvious choice turns out to be a dead end.

This book is perfectly engineered for the life of a busy professional or parent. It's not a heavy commitment. You don't need a chapter break. You can literally crack it open for the duration of a microwave cycle or while waiting for a Zoom meeting to start, and get a complete, satisfying dose of humor. It’s the perfect digital detox, too. Instead of scrolling through social media, I keep this book on my nightstand and pick one or two to read before bed. It provides a sweet, light mental palate cleanser instead of the usual doom-scroll anxiety.

I was initially skeptical that a whole book of Wordle limericks could sustain my interest, but Flam’s creativity with his themes, from the woes of a double letter to the unexpected joy of solving it in two guesses, keeps the pages turning. He weaves in references to medical terminology, history, and pop culture that are genuinely funny, proving this MD has a serious and surprisingly refined comedic sensibility.

In summary, if you play Wordle, even if you just know someone who plays Wordle, you need this book. It’s light, positive, and intellectually playful. Wordle Limericks Volume 1 is a refreshing breath of air, beautifully put together, and an absolute winner. Five stars, no hesitations! I've already shared my favorite "FLAMERICKS" with my work team, and it’s led to some great conversations. Now, where’s Volume 2?


The Englishman - Memoirs of a Psychobiologist

John Staddon’s The Englishman: Memoirs of a Psychobiologist is far more than a conventional academic autobiography; it is an astute, often witty, reflection on the development of a scientific mind and the unpredictable trajectory of an influential research career. Spanning his "war toddler" days in London through a long tenure at Duke University, Staddon successfully navigates the balance between personal anecdote and serious intellectual history. For readers with an interest in the philosophy of science or the history of behavioral psychology, this memoir offers a refreshingly candid perspective on the academic enterprise.

The core of the book lies in the author's professional life, detailing his efforts to understand how animals learn. Staddon’s work is characterized by an elegant synthesis of conceptual frameworks. He explicitly charts a path influenced by Darwin for the concepts of behavioral variation and the experimental methods of the influential behaviorist B.F. Skinner. This blend of evolutionary and operant principles informed much of his primary research, which he describes in nontechnical language. His investigations branched into several fascinating directions, including the nature of learned behavior, the profound ability of animals to tell time, and the dynamics of behavior under various reward schedules.

A particularly compelling through-line is the critical examination of rationality as a unifying idea across disciplines. Staddon notes how behavioral ecology, learning psychology, and economics all attempt to understand their subjects through the lens of maximization, whether it’s Darwinian fitness, maximizing reward, or consumer payoff. His conclusion, however, provides one of the book’s most valuable insights: the failures of this maximization model are often "more scientifically interesting than its successes". This is a powerful, counterintuitive thesis that speaks to the complexity of biological systems and the limitations of purely reductionist models.

Beyond his specific research, Staddon offers a vital, almost meta-analysis of his field. He observes that science, especially psychology, is "mostly the exploration of dead ends" and "a history of culs de sac," noting that the field continually struggles to see beyond "ready-made accounts, common language labels, [and] folk-psychology explanations". This acknowledgment of the inherent difficulty and intellectual humility in scientific progress lends the memoir a rare professional gravitas.

The narrative also touches upon the personal costs and benefits of an academic life, including the necessary travel to exotic locations like Italy, Brazil, and Japan. Furthermore, Staddon provides a frank and sometimes acerbic look at the administrative side of academia, delving into academic politics and his "satirical reactions" published in a faculty newsletter. He recounts being "taken aback by the unsuspected pettiness of their colleagues," a universal experience for those in positions of authority.

In total, The Englishman is an essential read for anyone invested in the empirical study of behavior or curious about the professional life of a leading psychobiologist. Staddon’s measured voice, combined with his deep intellectual curiosity, produces a memoir that is both professionally informative and philosophically stimulating.


The Englishman: Memoirs of a Psychobiologist

John Staddon’s memoir, The Englishman, is a surprisingly engaging read, especially in its first half, which ditches the psychobiology for a fascinating, unvarnished look at a life lived across tectonic plates of 20th-century history. While Staddon is ultimately a celebrated academic (a psychobiologist, no less ), it’s the foundational stories of his childhood and family that grab you with their historical grit and genuinely surprising texture.

The first chapters, detailing his time as a "War Toddler," transport the reader directly into a working-class London during the Blitz. Staddon narrates his earliest, fragmented memories—the wailing sirens, being carried down into the basement, and the image of searchlights illuminating the sky for German bombers. The setting in Cricklewood, an "odd family out" in an Irish neighborhood, is vividly drawn, giving a sense of the post-war London environment that shaped him.

What’s particularly rich is the juxtaposition of his parents’ origins. His mother’s side came from colonial India and Burma, while his father, Leonard John “Jack” Staddon, was from a “highly dysfunctional” East London family with an alcoholic mother and absent father, who had to run away and lie about his age to join the army, escaping a tough life for a rifleman's career in India. This massive cultural gulf between his parents is a brilliant, unspoken tension at the heart of the early narrative, illustrating a microcosm of the social mobility and upheaval of the time.

The memoir is also peppered with cultural and historical nuggets that give it a unique flavor. Later, Staddon recounts his father’s trip to India on the requisitioned P & O liner, the RMS Orion. He contrasts the experience of a privileged Lieutenant-Colonel, Michael Wharton, who sailed in comfort with "fancy meals, waiters and white linen," with the probable fate of his father and the other "ranks," who "traveled cattle-fashion, below decks". This detail perfectly captures the rigid class system, even amid the chaos of World War II.

Staddon's more intellectual influences are also presented through a humorous, accessible lens. For example, he cites satirist Michael Wharton (aka ‘Peter Simple’) as an intellectual lodestar of his youth. He includes a lengthy, hilarious excerpt detailing the invention of the "Racial Prejudometer," a satirical device meant to measure prejudice in "prejudons," as a way to poke fun at the cultural and political anxieties of the day. This shows the author's willingness to embrace irreverence and critical thinking outside his immediate field.

The book transitions into his professional journey and his research in psychobiology, but the real pleasure is watching the pieces of his personal history fall into place. Ultimately, The Englishman is a lively, often self-deprecating story about a man’s journey from the chaos of wartime London to the quiet order of a university lab, demonstrating that a life well-examined is a life well-read.


Zen and the Art of Dog Training: What Dogs Can Teach Us About Ourselves

When I first picked up Zen and the Art of Dog Training by Adam Halleck, I was half-expecting a dusty tome full of complicated commands and obscure Buddhist parables. As a 28-year-old who spends most of his week staring at spreadsheets, my main goal was to stop my otherwise adorable Golden Retriever from eating the baseboards. I needed practical solutions, not spiritual enlightenment.

What I got, though, was a genuinely insightful, light-hearted read that somehow manages to deliver on both fronts. Halleck’s premise isn’t really about getting your dog to sit; it’s about getting you to sit down and be present. He argues convincingly that most dog problems stem from owner chaos, not canine malice. My dog wasn't naughty; I was just a walking anxiety magnet who hadn’t learned to communicate clearly or, frankly, chill out.

The book excels because it re-frames "training" as "mindfulness with a furry accountability partner." Halleck doesn't just hand out five steps to a perfect recall; he delves into the Zen concept of non-attachment and how our frustration with a disobedient dog is really just our attachment to the outcome we want. When you stop worrying about the perfect result and focus only on the current interaction, everything changes. It’s like a corporate retreat where you realize the problem isn't the team; it’s the manager (that's you, the owner).

For the busy professional, this book is oddly relaxing. The short chapters are structured to deliver powerful insights without feeling preachy. I found myself applying the concepts to my Monday morning meetings as much as to our daily walks. The idea of being fully present and not distracted by my phone, the next email, or the stress of the day, made a noticeable difference. Suddenly, the chaotic walk was a lot calmer because I was finally there. It turns out dogs are pretty good barometers for human stress. Who knew?

Halleck has a really relatable voice, too. It’s accessible and positive, avoiding the heavy academic language you might expect from a "Zen" title. He uses great real-world anecdotes that make the philosophical stuff land perfectly. It’s the kind of book you can read in a couple of sittings, but the lessons stick around much longer.

Whether you're struggling to teach a new puppy the difference between a chew toy and your expensive leather shoes, or you’re just looking for a low-stakes way to practice mindfulness, this book is a winner. It’s a sneaky self-help guide disguised as a dog manual. I highly recommend picking this up. It’ll make you a better dog owner, and probably, a less stressed-out human being.


Reading Beka Wueste’s My Side of the World and Other Tales of Death feels like sitting across from a wise friend who has made peace with the inevitable and wants to share what she’s learned along the way. This collection of eight stories approaches death not as an end, but as a companion—sometimes mysterious, sometimes tender, but always deeply human. Wueste’s voice, graceful and empathetic, invites readers to sit with grief rather than flee from it, and in doing so, she reminds us that “every moment of life is precious and without guarantee.”

What struck me most as an older reader is how Wueste blends emotional honesty with a calm acceptance born of experience. In her introduction, she writes that she grew up in a family where “funerals were followed by parties, filled with food, music, and laughter.” Death, for her, was never taboo; it was simply another part of life’s cycle. That sensibility ripples through the entire collection. Her tone is never morbid or indulgent; instead, she speaks with a quiet reverence that transforms loss into meaning.

One of the most poignant stories, The Shattered Glass Girl, examines the way trauma fractures us and how we find beauty in the broken pieces. The titular character’s life is defined by what she has lost, yet she continues to reflect light much like a mosaic rebuilt from shards.

Another standout is My Husband’s Fathers, a story that explores grief in unconventional ways. A woman's husband has unresolved grief from losing his mother during his early childhood, and he behaves as if her death entitles him to discount how others around him are hurting in different ways. His entrenched belief that his experience is worse than anyone else’s is challenged when the men who raised him show up unexpectedly.

Wueste’s ability to move seamlessly between realism and the fantastical recalls writers like Isabel Allende and Alice Hoffman. In The Red Lights, she employs magical realism to explore mortality through the lens of loneliness. Lights flicker in rhythm with human hearts, and when one goes out, a life ends. It’s a quietly stunning metaphor for the interconnectedness of existence, a reminder that every dimming bulb carries someone’s story.

What I admire most about this book is its balance. Wueste doesn’t shy away from pain, but she also doesn’t let sorrow consume her characters. Her perspective feels earned, not forced; a literary reflection of the wisdom that can come only with time and loss. The stories remind us that mourning and gratitude can coexist, and that the act of remembering is, in its own way, an act of living.

My Side of the World and Other Tales of Death is a gift for readers who have loved and lost and are learning, still, to make peace with both. It will especially resonate with those of us who have stood graveside and felt both heartbreak and grace in the same breath. Beka Wueste writes with the tenderness of someone who has known death intimately and, perhaps more importantly, who has learned how to keep living beautifully beside it.


My Side of the World and Other Tales of Death (A Collection)

Beka Wueste’s My Side of the World and Other Tales of Death is an extraordinary collection that redefines how we view mortality. From its first pages, Wueste invites readers to confront death not as a shadowy adversary, but as a complex, even compassionate presence. “I’m not here to change your mind,” she writes in her introduction, “I’m here to open it.” That sentiment becomes the heartbeat of this remarkable collection—eight stories that explore loss, grief, and transcendence through lenses of magical realism, psychological intimacy, and emotional courage.

The opening story, My Life with Death, sets the tone for the book’s thematic core: death as a companion, not a calamity. The narrator’s lifelong relationship with a personified Death—described with “a soft, glowing aura, shimmering, iridescent” rather than a skeletal grimness—transforms what might have been a macabre premise into something strangely comforting. Through vivid storytelling, Wueste balances mythic imagination with emotional realism, giving readers permission to feel awe where they might expect dread.

Each subsequent tale builds on that philosophical foundation while exploring human resilience in different forms. In The Patron Saint of Pianos, for instance, a small town cop with unresolved trauma from working cartel-related homicides, thinks he has found a fresh start in a small town, and is disturbed when an outside force arrives and unearths old secrets about his seemingly-idyllic wife. The Girl Who Sold the World is about humanity and how we show up for each other in times of grief. These stories are unified not by plot but by tone, a lyrical empathy that insists on seeing light in the dark.

Wueste’s prose is graceful and piercing. Her writing reminds us of authors such as Ursula K. Le Guin and Mary Oliver, whose work also explores the porous boundary between life and death.

What makes My Side of the World particularly moving is how personal it feels. Wueste’s introduction recounts her mother’s passing from terminal cancer and the grace with which her family faced it: “She asked us to throw her a going-away party… so she could actually enjoy it while she was still alive.” That memory becomes a thread connecting fiction and truth, making the collection not only a meditation on mortality but also a celebration of presence, memory, and the beauty of goodbye.

The book’s emotional weight is balanced by its variety. Some stories drift toward the surreal, while others are grounded in grief so raw it feels autobiographical. Yet each maintains a sense of reverence for life’s fleeting nature. Readers who appreciate literary fiction with spiritual undertones like fans of Le Guin, Alice Sebold, or Ray Bradbury, will find much to love here.

Ultimately, My Side of the World and Other Tales of Death is not about endings at all. It is about connection; the ties that bind the living to the departed, and the ways we carry love beyond loss. Wueste does not simply write about death; she writes about how fully we can live in its shadow. For readers seeking stories that are both haunting and healing, this collection is unforgettable.


Bend, Don’t Break: How to Adapt in the New World of Work

If you're anything like me, a mid-career professional who feels like they’re constantly drinking from a firehose of new technology and shifting expectations, Matt A. West’s new book, Bend, Don't Break, arrives right on time. We’re living through an era where our well-earned expertise can suddenly feel like a liability, and the unrelenting pace of change can lead to sheer exhaustion. West's book is a sympathetic yet professional guide for anyone overwhelmed by the noise, offering a crucial mindset shift: in the modern workplace, “Adaptability has gone from a nice-to-have to a must-have”.

West, an executive coach, grounds his advice in the core idea that adaptability isn't a single, innate skill but a muscle you can systematically build. He organizes the book around several compelling themes. The first part, "Why We Break," is a gentle look at the resistance we feel, specifically calling out "Frozen Expertise"—that moment when the knowledge you've mastered begins to weigh you down. This was a truly relatable concept for me, as a 42-year-old who remembers a world before endless pivots.

The core of the book is the Adaptability System, which addresses a fascinating concept West calls the Adaptability Paradox: “In order to bend, you need something to hold on to”. His analogy of the Colorado pine tree perfectly illustrates this. The tree, he explains, stays rooted, anchored by its purpose, values, and unique strengths, while its flexible branches allow it to sway and evolve with the elements. This is the most compassionate takeaway, reminding us that “You don’t have to change everything about yourself to become more adaptable. In fact, real adaptability starts with knowing what not to change: your values, your purpose, your strengths”.

West moves beyond theory by detailing the Core Five skills required to thrive: Curiosity over Certainty, Credible Vulnerability, Agility with Intent, Emotional and Cognitive Flexibility, and Resilience That Moves Forward. These skills feed into the overarching philosophy of "Grow in Beta," which encourages continuous, imperfect growth rather than striving for unattainable perfection. He urges us to see setbacks and feedback as "signal, not judgment", creating a path forward that is less about striving and more about evolving.

Ultimately, West’s message is an encouraging one. He writes: “It’s not the smartest or strongest people who thrive through change. It’s the ones who are willing to stretch, to evolve, to reimagine how they work and who they are, without losing what grounds them”. This book provides the practical framework to make that stretching feel less like a panic and more like a planned action.

This is essential reading for anyone feeling the intense pressure of the "new world of work". Specifically, mid-career professionals who are tired of pretending they have it all figured out will find West's honesty refreshing. It’s also an invaluable resource for seasoned executives and leaders who need to build adaptable teams, especially those navigating AI disruptions, industry shifts, or organizational transformation. Bend, Don't Break is a toolkit for meeting the future with clarity, not chaos, and it’s a necessary purchase for the professional bookshelves of 2026.


Barry Hoffner’s Belonging to the World: A Journey from Grief to Connection in Every Country on Earth is one of those rare memoirs that manages to balance emotional honesty with sweeping adventure. On the surface, it’s the story of a man’s quest to visit all 193 countries after the tragic death of his wife, Jackie. But at its core, it’s a deeply human exploration of what it means to heal, to reconnect, and to find belonging not just in places, but in people.

From the opening line: “Some journeys we choose. Others choose us," Hoffner establishes the memoir’s tone: intimate, reflective, and tinged with quiet resilience. When his wife dies in a freak accident while working with elephants in Botswana, Hoffner’s grief is raw and unflinching. The chapter “Year Zero” captures the immediate aftermath with devastating simplicity: “Within minutes, the life I knew before no longer existed.” For younger readers like me, who may not have experienced that level of loss, the moment still hits with force. It’s not just about death; it’s about disorientation, about what happens when your map of the world suddenly stops making sense.

What makes Hoffner’s story remarkable isn’t that he traveled to every country; it’s why he did it. “I didn’t want distraction,” he writes in the prologue. “I wanted immersion. I wanted to see the world not as headlines, but as people.” This line stayed with me. I found Hoffner’s need for genuine human contact inspiring. His travels to Oman, Jamaica, Bhutan, Syria, and beyond aren’t just stamps in a passport. Each encounter, from chatting with a Syrian refugee tutor named Zahraa to standing still before a wild elephant, becomes an act of reconnection.

Hoffner writes with a kind of grounded eloquence. His prose isn’t flashy; it’s purposeful. He weaves in quotes from Stoic philosophers like Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, not to sound intellectual, but because they anchor his journey in reflection.

Younger readers who crave purpose beyond the next dopamine hit of social media will find this book grounding. Fans of travel writers like Paul Theroux or memoirists like Cheryl Strayed (Wild) will appreciate Hoffner’s mix of introspection and exploration. It’s not about ticking off a bucket list; it’s about rediscovering empathy through motion.

For me, Belonging to the World ultimately redefined what “travel writing” can be. It’s not a guidebook; it’s a meditation. Hoffner’s story reminds us that belonging isn’t something you find on a map. It’s something you build, piece by piece, across every encounter that reminds you you’re still alive.


How to Find The Good Life

At just eighty pages, Robert D. Melson’s How to Find the Good Life offers a compact, motivational guide to achieving happiness, purpose, and balance. Drawing from personal experience and years of study, Melson distills the lessons of his earlier, much longer work into a practical handbook that encourages readers to calm their minds, improve their thoughts, and act toward a more fulfilling life. The result is part self-help manual, part personal philosophy. It's a blend of timeless wisdom and modern self-discipline.

Melson opens with honesty about his own struggles, and how those hardships drove him to study success and happiness. This vulnerability immediately sets a tone of authenticity. His premise is simple yet empowering: the good life is within everyone’s reach, but it requires consistent, mindful effort. Each of the ten chapters focuses on a specific aspect of well-being: tranquility, positivity, happiness, faith, values, success, health, wealth, love, and habits. Together, they create a full-circle approach to self-improvement that feels both personal and structured.

The book’s early chapters, particularly “Tranquility: How to Calm Your Mind” and “Positivity: How to Improve Your Thoughts,” establish Melson’s blend of spirituality and practicality. He writes, “Wisdom comes from silence, listening, and periodic moments of isolation,” a sentiment that feels especially relevant in today’s noisy, overstimulated world. His meditation exercises are approachable even for beginners. Likewise, his “Laws of Tranquility” and “Laws for Positive Thoughts” read like modern affirmations, encouraging readers to create inner peace by practicing gratitude, kindness, and focus.

Melson’s style is clear and conversational, peppered with motivational quotes from thinkers like Jim Rohn, Earl Nightingale, and Abraham Lincoln. His use of repetition reinforces the idea that real change comes through habit and persistence. The rhythm of the prose mirrors his message: progress happens one step, one thought, and one positive action at a time.

Some sections delve deeper into practical territory. “Health: How to Take Care of Your Mind and Body” includes meal guidelines and exercise advice; “Wealth: How to Serve Others and Make More Money” ties financial success to service and ethical responsibility. The balance between inner and outer improvement makes the book versatile. Readers seeking spiritual grounding will find guidance in his meditations, while goal-oriented readers will appreciate his step-by-step systems for organizing time, building good habits, and cultivating success.

What stands out most is Melson’s tone: compassionate but firm, idealistic but grounded in experience. The book feels like a pep talk from someone who’s been through hardship and come out wiser. It doesn’t promise miracles; it promotes small, consistent disciplines that add up over time.

How to Find the Good Life is best suited for readers who enjoy self-improvement classics by authors like Napoleon Hill or Dale Carnegie but want something more condensed and personal. It’s ideal for anyone seeking to reset their mindset. Light enough to read in an afternoon but dense with reflection, Melson’s little book delivers exactly what its title promises: a practical roadmap to the good life.


Complete.: Living an Abundant Life from the Completion of Christ

Let's be real: self-help shelves are overflowing. So when I picked up Keri Baskin’s Complete: Living an Abundant Life from the Completion of Christ, I’ll admit I was ready for something that might feel a little niche. While the book definitely comes wrapped in a strong Christian framework, and Baskin is completely authentic about her faith, I was pleasantly surprised by how universally helpful the core message is, regardless of what you believe. Think of this less as a Sunday school lesson and more as a profound manual for escaping the mental stress of modern life.

The central problem Baskin is trying to solve is burnout, anxiety, and the relentless feeling that you are constantly failing or falling short. We all live in a performance culture, right? We’re told we need to work harder, meditate better, parent perfectly, and generally hustle our way to happiness. Baskin flips that script entirely. She argues that you don't need to try to be "worthy" anymore because, essentially, you already have everything you need. This idea, which she calls "living from a place of victory," is a massive psychological relief. It gives you permission to stop frantically trying to earn your own peace.

For the non-religious reader, you can easily translate the concept of "completion in Christ" into "radical self-acceptance" or "inherent self-worth." It’s an effective antidote to the constant stream of self-criticism most of us deal with daily. The book is structured as a devotional, meaning it breaks down these heavy ideas into small, manageable chunks you can chew on every day. It’s practical, designed to encourage a daily mental shift away from negative self-talk and toward a solid, unshakable foundation of "I am enough."

What makes Baskin a great guide is her genuine authenticity. She doesn't present herself as some untouchable spiritual guru. She is clear that she’s a teacher, a fitness trainer, and someone who has navigated major life crises, including divorce, widowhood,and  motherhood. This gives her advice a really grounded, empathetic feel. You trust her because she's clearly been through the emotional wringer herself. When she talks about how struggles are necessary for growth, she isn’t just quoting a textbook; she’s sharing hard-won wisdom that anyone dealing with a rough patch can relate to.

Ultimately, Complete is a powerful tool for mental wellness and self-esteem wrapped in a beautiful, intentional package. If you are burned out, stressed out, or feel like you’re always chasing some impossible standard of perfection, this book offers a clear path to simply being—and finding incredible peace while you’re at it. The framework is Christian, but the resulting freedom is universal. If you’re looking for a positive, daily reset button, this is absolutely worth the read.


Keri Baskin’s Complete: Living an Abundant Life from the Completion of Christ is a compelling devotional that offers a profound paradigm shift for the modern Christian reader. Instead of framing faith as a lifelong pursuit of unattainable perfection, Baskin grounds the reader in the finished work of Christ. This text skillfully merges accessible theological insights with deep personal vulnerability, establishing itself as a valuable and restorative resource for spiritual growth.

The central strength of Complete lies in its insistence on "living from a place of victory." Baskin guides the reader away from a performance-based spirituality, where one strives daily to be worthy, toward an identity-based faith rooted in being a "new creation in Christ." This approach, which she terms the "Christ is Life message," provides a stable foundation for emotional and spiritual regulation. The book is structured to encourage meditation on truth, presenting complex concepts in digestible, daily segments. It masterfully uses the metaphor of struggle leading to growth, akin to a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, to illustrate how trials are integral to manifesting one's pre-existing spiritual reality. The practical impact is immediate: it reframes daily challenges not as defeats, but as opportunities to live out the completion already received.

Baskin’s authenticity is perhaps the most magnetic element of the work. Drawing on her own varied experiences, including her roles as a teacher, divorcee, widow, and mother, she crafts a voice that is both authoritative and deeply empathetic. Baskin, who is also a fitness trainer, ensures that the reader identifies with her not as a distant spiritual expert, but as a "regular woman called to extraordinary levels of faith and incredible peace." This vulnerability ensures the book's message lands with sincerity, resonating with those navigating loss, identity crises, or relational struggles. The writing style is thoughtful and encouraging, delivering foundational truths directly without becoming overly simplistic. It is clear that the content is written from the heart, designed not just to inform the mind, but to positively impact the reader's "whole life."

In a crowded market of spiritual literature, Complete distinguishes itself by offering genuine, restorative hope. It is an essential read for individuals seeking to move past spiritual burnout or those wrestling with feelings of inadequacy. The devotional effectively unpacks foundational truths necessary for experiencing the abundant life promised by Jesus. Baskin’s work reminds readers of the "endless pursuit of an everlasting, all-loving God" through relatable stories and consistent theological clarity. This volume is an asset for anyone committed to meditating on truth and living with incredible peace, having found their identity and completeness in Christ.


As someone whose daily rhythm is dictated by quarterly goals, client deadlines, and the relentless pursuit of the next promotion, I approach most devotional and self-help literature with a dose of skepticism. If it can’t provide a clear, actionable benefit, it’s just noise. Keri Baskin’s Complete: Living an Abundant Life from the Completion of Christ is one of the rare exceptions that actually delivers on its promise of sustained peace and effective mental restructuring.

Baskin tackles the core issue plaguing high-achievers: the performance-to-identity pipeline. In the professional world, our worth is constantly tied to our output: the successful presentation, the market share gained, the bonus check. This creates a relentless, stressful treadmill where you’re always striving, but never feeling secure. Baskin’s central thesis, that we are spiritually and personally complete right now, is not just a feel-good phrase; it's a powerful tool for dismantling this performance anxiety. She essentially offers an off-ramp from the exhaustive pursuit of external validation.

What makes this book relevant to a busy professional is its efficiency. It’s structured as a devotional, which means the insights are broken down into daily, digestible modules. You don’t need to block out an hour for heavy philosophical reading; you can consume the day's lesson in the morning and apply the principle throughout your commute or your first meeting. The goal isn't just theory, but practice: learning to operate from a posture of confidence and security, rather than desperation or fear of failure. This shift alone can dramatically improve decision-making under pressure.

Baskin uses relatable anecdotes that resonate beyond traditional religious circles. For instance, she addresses the inevitable moments when a major project stalls or a deal falls through. Instead of viewing these setbacks as evidence of personal inadequacy (a common trap in the corporate environment), she teaches the reader to interpret them as temporary circumstances that do not define their fundamental self. The book is about decoupling your internal sense of value from the volatile nature of external results, which is arguably the most valuable skill a leader can cultivate.

Furthermore, Baskin’s message on identity provides a necessary counterweight to professional tunnel vision. When your entire identity is wrapped up in your title or compensation, any career change or market downturn can feel catastrophic. Complete offers a framework for deriving worth from an internal, stable source, ensuring that the inevitable shifts in the job market, or even retirement, don't trigger a full-blown existential crisis. It’s a prophylactic measure against the psychological toll of a high-pressure career.

For the analytical professional who values clear principles and lasting stability, Complete is a worthy investment of time. It offers a structured way to achieve emotional resilience and focus, allowing you to engage fully with your career without letting its demands consume your personal peace.


I picked up Keri Baskin’s Complete because I was feeling pretty drained by the whole "hustle culture" grind. My apartment is tiny, my career is just getting started, and my phone is constantly reminding me that everyone else is crushing life. I’ve been trying to figure out the "purpose" thing lately, and while I’m not exactly a regular at church, I've been delving more into the "why" of things.

I was expecting a lot of heavy, academic theology, but the book is surprisingly direct and easy to connect with. Baskin’s main idea that you are "complete" right now because of Christ is a serious mind-blower, especially when you’re used to the pressure of having to earn every ounce of validation. She basically tells you that the whole spiritual checklist you thought you had to complete before feeling okay? It’s already been checked off.

For someone like me, who feels like my entire twenties has been one long job application, the relief this book provides is actually kind of insane. Instead of feeling like I have to spend every waking minute self-improving, meditating, or sacrificing to become a "better person" (which usually ends up in me just feeling guilty), Baskin teaches you to operate from a place of already having won. She calls it "living from a place of victory." It’s the ultimate life-hack for your self-esteem.

Baskin’s background really helps keep the content grounded. When you read that she’s a trainer and a teacher who has dealt with real-world stuff, it gives her message serious weight. It’s not just theory; it’s advice from someone who knows life gets messy. She uses these struggles to show that pain isn't a sign of failure, but a necessary part of growth. I can relate to that when I look at job rejections or failed side projects; it helps reframe those setbacks as part of the process, not permanent judgment.

The structure as a devotional (daily readings) is perfect for a beginner. It’s not overwhelming. You read one part, think about it for the day, and move on. Even if you're just exploring faith, like I am, the book is incredibly positive and offers a massive shift in perspective. If you’re a guy who is tired of the comparison game and just wants a solid, simple reason to feel good about who you are and where you’re going, this is definitely worth picking up. It’s a powerful daily reminder to stop trying so hard to become something and just start living as the person you already are.


Your Lovable Lawyer's Guide to Legal Wellness: Fighting Back Against a World That's Out to Cheat You

As someone who has spent her adult life navigating contracts, service agreements, and the fine print of everything from car rentals to cable bills, Danny Karon’s Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness feels like a much-needed breath of fresh air. Karon, a seasoned consumer-rights attorney, writes with a mix of humor, compassion, and clear-eyed practicality that makes the law feel accessible, even friendly. “When the airline cancels your flight and won’t rebook you, what can you do?” he asks in the opening chapter. That simple question frames the heart of his book: empowering everyday people to recognize, prevent, and push back against the countless small injustices that chip away at our confidence and wallets.

At its core, this book is about legal wellness, a concept Karon defines as understanding the basic principles that protect you so you can avoid, or quickly resolve, common legal problems. Drawing from more than three decades of experience recovering billions for consumers, he blends practical guidance with memorable anecdotes. The story of his ten-year crusade to win $2 billion in refunds from flat-panel manufacturers demonstrates his passion for justice, while smaller vignettes—like helping friends contest a botched dental crown or a damaged furniture order—translate big-firm tactics into something any reader can use.

“If you believe you’re right, pursue your cause,” he insists. “That’s the only way to end up on top.”

Karon organizes the book around empowerment, fairness, and personal responsibility. He dismantles the “victim mentality” that keeps many people silent, encouraging readers to adopt a proactive mindset: “You don’t want to get steamrolled; you want to be the steamroller.” Each chapter tackles a specific area, including travel scams, auto insurance, landlord disputes, identity theft, and more, with step-by-step advice and even sample letters to help readers advocate for themselves. His writing style mirrors a good legal mentor’s bedside manner: approachable, witty, and just irreverent enough to keep you smiling while you learn. The “sandwich technique” he teaches (starting a complaint letter with kindness, stating the problem clearly, and closing politely) is both psychologically smart and deeply human.

Beyond the legal advice, Karon’s personality shines through every page. He confides, “I didn’t become a lawyer for the money. I became a lawyer because I wanted to make a difference.” That sincerity anchors the humor and makes his guidance feel trustworthy rather than preachy. There’s even an underlying philosophy here that extends beyond law: self-advocacy as self-care. Just as we maintain physical and financial wellness, Karon argues, legal wellness is an essential part of living a balanced life.

For readers who have ever felt helpless in the face of bureaucracy, this book offers both comfort and concrete action. Fans of Suze Orman or John Grisham will appreciate Karon’s hybrid of financial wisdom and storytelling flair. Whether you’re a recent graduate, a busy parent, or a retiree tired of fine-print frustrations, Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness will leave you feeling not only informed but empowered. It’s proof that, with the right mindset and a well-crafted letter, even the little guy can win.


Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness: Fighting Back Against a World That’s Out to Cheat You

Danny Karon’s Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness is one of those rare nonfiction books that manages to teach, entertain, and genuinely empower its readers without sounding preachy. Karon, a seasoned class-action attorney who’s recovered over $10 billion for consumers, has written what might be the most accessible legal self-help book since The People’s Court met Dear Abby.

Karon’s central premise, that “legal wellness” is as essential as physical or financial wellness, resonates instantly. The opening chapter lays the groundwork with a conversational tone that cuts through intimidation: “When companies big or small screw you over … you don’t have to roll over.” What follows isn’t theory; it’s a lively sequence of case-in-point stories drawn from Karon’s real life and practice.

One of the book’s standout sections recounts his long-term legal battle against international flat-panel manufacturers who colluded to inflate prices on screens. Instead of using the case to glorify himself, Karon frames it as a parable about persistence, fairness, and the cost of corporate denial. His transparency about the decade-long process, culminating in a $2-billion settlement, shows the gritty side of justice while proving that collective action can work.

Equally memorable is his chapter on robocall scams, where Karon traces how predatory schemes evolved from “snake-oil salesmen steering their wagons through town” to global operations powered by analytics. His insistence that awareness is the first line of defense makes the book feel current and vital, especially in a world where every missed call could be a scam.

What makes this guide work isn’t just its content; it’s Karon’s persona. He calls himself “Your Lovable Lawyer,” and remarkably, he lives up to it. His writing carries the rhythm of someone who’s spent years explaining the law to students, journalists, and clients alike. He’s funny, candid, and often self-deprecating. When he jokes about filming his early videos on a green screen with Amazon costumes, it underlines the book’s message: the law doesn’t have to be intimidating.

Still, beneath the charm lies a sharp edge. Karon is angry, and righteously so, about how ordinary consumers are manipulated by systems designed for confusion: forced arbitration clauses, unreadable terms of service, and hidden fees. His anger is contagious, but his solutions are calm, strategic, and methodical. Each story becomes both a cautionary tale and a call to action.

The beauty of Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness is that it never asks you to become a lawyer. Instead, it gives you the mindset of one: confident, curious, and unwilling to be bullied. Readers who enjoy books like Gretchen Rubin’s Better Than Before will appreciate Karon’s knack for mixing personality with practicality.

This is a survival manual for the modern citizen. Whether you’re contesting a fraudulent charge, fighting a landlord’s unfair claim, or simply trying to decode a warranty, Karon’s guide gives you something more powerful than a legal brief: the conviction that you deserve fairness, and the know-how to demand it.


Danny Karon’s Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness is a lively, practical guide for anyone who has ever suspected that the system is stacked against them—but didn’t know where to start fighting back. With more than thirty years of experience as a consumer-rights attorney, Karon uses humor, candor, and real-world insight to make the law not just understandable but empowering. His voice is that of a neighbor who happens to know how to outsmart corporate bureaucracy and wants to share the playbook over coffee.

Karon begins by introducing the idea of “legal wellness," the notion that just as we care for our bodies and finances, we should also maintain our legal health. He argues that understanding the everyday laws that govern our lives can prevent crises before they happen. “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,” he reminds readers, encouraging them to become proactive instead of reactive when it comes to protecting their rights.

Rather than focusing on courtroom dramas, Karon zeros in on daily realities that most people overlook, such as contracts, warranties, online scams, and privacy violations. His examples are both entertaining and enlightening: from confronting credit card companies over unfair fees to demystifying forced arbitration clauses that hide in the fine print of apps and purchase agreements. Each story is designed to teach readers how to recognize when they’re being taken advantage of and how to respond effectively, even without a lawyer at their side.

Karon’s tone is never condescending; he writes as someone who genuinely believes ordinary people can stand toe-to-toe with corporations once they understand their rights. He describes the law as “a tool for fairness,” something that belongs to everyone, not just to professionals in expensive suits. His conversational and witty delivery keeps the book approachable, even when discussing complex topics like class actions or arbitration.

Beyond its practical lessons, the book carries a deeper message about self-respect and confidence. Karon encourages readers to shed the idea that they are powerless, emphasizing that the first step toward justice is refusing to accept mistreatment as inevitable. He reminds us that legal literacy isn’t about confrontation; it’s about clarity and courage. When he writes, “You don’t need to be a lawyer to protect your legal rights,” it feels less like advice and more like a challenge to believe in your own ability to act.

The book is well-organized, with each chapter focusing on a specific aspect of consumer life—from protecting your identity to dealing with unreasonable landlords and shady contracts. Karon even includes templates and examples that make it easy to adapt his advice to your own situation. His straightforward explanations turn what could be intimidating material into an empowering toolkit for everyday life.

Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness will appeal to readers who want more control over their financial and legal well-being. Small business owners, recent graduates, and anyone tired of feeling helpless in the face of red tape will find it particularly valuable. Like a cross between a motivational coach and a legal translator, Karon helps readers see that standing up for themselves isn’t just possible, it’s necessary. His message is clear: when you know your rights, you’re not just surviving in a world that’s out to cheat you, you’re thriving in spite of it.


Reading Danny Karon’s Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness felt like sitting across from a trusted neighbor who’s seen it all, learned the hard lessons, and now wants to make sure the rest of us don’t get taken for a ride. As someone who’s lived long enough to have fought with phone companies, landlords, and airlines alike, I found Karon’s approach refreshing, empowering, and, believe it or not, funny.

Right from the start, Karon makes it clear that “legal wellness” is something we all need, whether we realize it or not. He compares it to maintaining your car or your health; ignore it too long, and you’ll pay for it later. His conversational tone cuts through the intimidation many of us feel when dealing with legal or corporate issues. “When your cell phone provider slips a secret charge into your bill yet won’t credit you, what can you do?” he asks early on. For most of us, the honest answer is, “Not much.” But Karon spends the rest of the book showing that we can do plenty.

What I appreciated most were his real-life examples that feel like stories pulled from everyday experience. One chapter that stood out to me was when he helped friends handle a botched furniture delivery: a wrong color, scuffed chair, and a company unwilling to take responsibility. Instead of shrugging it off, Karon crafted a firm but professional letter citing consumer protection laws and basic fairness. Within a week, the couple had a new couch section, a refund, and even got to keep the damaged chair. I couldn’t help but think how many times I’ve sighed and let something go rather than insist on what was right.

Another memorable section involves his friend, who paid $2,400 for a dental crown that fell off the same day. The poor man was afraid to challenge the dentist’s charge, convinced he’d end up in more trouble if he did. Karon reframed the situation, encouraging him to dispute the payment and politely hold the dentist accountable. The outcome? The dentist refunded the full amount, and the friend got the problem fixed elsewhere for less. It’s the kind of story that makes you think twice before apologizing for being wronged.

What sets this book apart is Karon’s blend of warmth and practicality. He never lectures; he teaches through stories, humor, and humanity. Even when he’s describing billion-dollar corporate scandals or class-action lawsuits, he keeps the focus on how ordinary people can apply the same principle: ask questions, document everything, and never assume you’re powerless. His “sandwich method” for writing complaint letters (start with a compliment, state the problem, end with gratitude) is advice I wish I’d learned decades ago.

Karon’s voice is personable and empathetic, but there’s a steel thread of conviction running through his words. He reminds readers that the law isn’t some remote system; it’s a tool we all have access to if we’re willing to use it. For seniors like me, who often get talked over or dismissed by customer service reps and corporations, this book is a comforting reminder that assertiveness and dignity go hand in hand.

Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness belongs on every household shelf right next to the first-aid kit and the financial planner. Because as Karon shows so well, knowing your rights isn’t just about protecting your money; it’s about preserving your peace of mind.


All Fired Up: Romance and Intrigue on a Pacific Northwest Island (Barefoot by Moonlight, Book 1)

Carmine Valentine’s All Fired Up, the first book in The Barefoot by Moonlight series, is a romantic suspense novel that blends small-town intrigue, a slow-burning love story, and a touch of humor into a highly readable escape. From the opening ferry scene, where romance novelist Marianne Dunaway rear-ends a mysterious biker’s motorcycle, to the creeping sense that someone is watching her at her newly purchased mansion on Orcas Island, Valentine hooks readers with a delightful mix of charm and danger.

What makes All Fired Up stand out is its smooth fusion of cozy mystery and classic romantic tension. Marianne, a writer returning reluctantly to her Pacific Northwest hometown for a dare, is instantly relatable. She’s smart, self-deprecating, and just the right amount of klutzy, like when her “lipstick magic” superstition leads her into trouble, or when she tumbles straight into the arms of the “pirate biker” she just hit. Valentine balances these comedic beats with sharp suspense, layering hints of secrets, family betrayal, and hidden histories. There’s a steady hum of tension under the story’s warmth, making readers wonder who can be trusted in the sleepy island community.

The chemistry between Marianne and Jack Sanders, the biker who’s more soldier than outlaw, gives the novel its emotional heartbeat. Their interactions, which are flirty, awkward, and surprisingly heartfelt, feel authentic and not forced. The dialogue sparkles with playful rhythm, and Valentine’s writing captures that rare blend of sensuality and innocence. One of my favorite aspects of the book is how the romance never overshadows the mystery. Jack’s reasons for being on Orcas Island, the strange note accusing Marianne of having “traitor in your blood,” and the eccentric locals (including a shotgun-wielding neighbor and a sister with secrets) create a vivid world that feels alive and cinematic.

Valentine’s prose is descriptive but not overindulgent; her settings pulse with atmosphere. You can practically feel the salty air of the ferry ride, the creak of the old Perrigo Mansion, and the cold mist rolling off the harbor. The Pacific Northwest becomes more than a backdrop; it’s a living part of the story, moody and mysterious, mirroring Marianne’s own emotional journey.

Readers who enjoy romantic suspense with heart will find All Fired Up deeply satisfying. Fans of authors like Nora Roberts, Barbara Freethy, or Christina Dodd’s Pacific Northwest series will feel right at home. It’s also a great pick for cozy mystery lovers who want a touch of danger without the grit of darker thrillers. The book’s second edition shows Valentine’s polish as a storyteller: it’s confident, witty, and layered with emotional truth beneath the romantic tension.

At its heart, All Fired Up is about rediscovery of love, courage, and one’s own voice. It’s a story that proves you can come home again, even when “home” holds more secrets than you bargained for.


Hummingbird Moonrise

Sherri L. Dodd’s Hummingbird Moonrise is an evocative and deeply layered paranormal mystery that beautifully intertwines generational trauma, witchcraft, and the power of female intuition. From the very first page, Dodd sets a haunting yet intimate tone, one that pulled me in with its lyrical prose and sense of ancestral weight. This isn’t a story about broomsticks or cauldrons; it’s a story about bloodlines, burdens, and the resilience of women determined to rewrite their fate.

The novel begins with a chilling prologue in 1940s California, where a family tragedy and a vengeful curse set the stage for generations of turmoil. Fast forward to the present day, and we meet Arista Kelly, a modern witch grappling with inherited magic and inherited trauma. Alongside her wise and eccentric Auntie, Arista navigates a world where ghosts linger, spells backfire, and family secrets refuse to stay buried. What I appreciated most about Arista is her vulnerability. She’s strong, yes, but not invincible—her emotions, doubts, and empathy feel human and familiar, grounding the supernatural elements in something real and heartfelt.

Dodd’s writing style is what makes Hummingbird Moonrise shine. Her prose is rich but never overwrought, poetic yet purposeful. As a reader who values rhythm and texture in storytelling, I found myself pausing at certain sentences just to appreciate their cadence. She has a gift for balancing warmth and tension. One moment we’re sipping tea in Auntie’s cozy kitchen, the next we’re plunged into eerie quiet as something unseen moves through the shadows. The use of dialects and accents, including Irish-American, Southern, and Scottish, adds depth and authenticity to the dialogue. Dodd’s note explaining her deliberate (mis)spellings for accent work made me smile; it’s a small but thoughtful touch that honors how people sound, not just what they say.

I connected deeply to the novel’s exploration of legacy and womanhood. Dodd captures that delicate balance between honoring the past and breaking free from it, something many of us understand in our bones. The women in this book carry not only magic but generational wounds, and the way Dodd writes their relationships, with both tenderness and truth, feels genuine. Themes of grief, intuition, and reclaiming power resonate beyond the page, reminding readers that healing often comes through confrontation, not avoidance.

Hummingbird Moonrise is an atmospheric, slow-burning tale that rewards patient readers with depth and emotion. Dodd fuses mystery, folklore, and heart in a way that feels both timeless and contemporary. Her prose hums with life, her characters pulse with authenticity, and her story lingers long after the last page, like the flutter of wings beneath moonlight.

I highly recommend this book to readers who love Alice Hoffman’s lyrical magic, Tananarive Due’s haunting depth, or stories that honor the strength of women bound by blood and spirit.


Where the Heart Meets the Sea: A Novel

As a wife, mother, and lifelong reader, I found Kimbra Drake’s Where the Heart Meets the Sea to be a deeply moving exploration of identity, legacy, and the ways love can both wound and heal across generations. Set against the windswept beauty of the Norwegian archipelago, this novel gently pulls readers into Ella Nilsen’s journey of discovery; one that begins as a practical trip to sell her late grandmother’s cottage and evolves into an emotional voyage toward understanding her past and herself.

Ella’s voice resonated with me immediately: she’s independent, creative, and quietly burdened by the secrets that shaped her life. Raised in Boulder, Colorado, by her stern Norwegian grandmother Hilda, Ella has always felt the absence of her mother, Sara, who supposedly died giving birth to her. When she inherits a cottage in Lyngør, a place her grandmother never mentioned, Ella’s arrival on the island sets the story in motion. The discovery of her grandmother’s paintings and notes hint at a family history far more complex than she’d ever imagined. The early chapters, rich in sensory detail, make you feel the salt in the air, the creak of wooden boats, and the ache of Ella’s confusion.

Ella’s initial intent to sell the cottage “as soon as possible” slowly transforms into a deeper curiosity about the people and the place. As she peels back the layers of her family’s past, she also begins to uncover the emotional armor she’s built in her own life. “Holding on to the past is too painful. It’s impossible to heal,” her grandmother once told her, but Ella learns that healing sometimes means revisiting what’s been buried.

Drake’s prose is lyrical without being overwrought. She has a talent for making the landscape mirror emotion: “The setting sun in Lyngør washed its old stone walls in a luminous salmon color,” she writes in the opening scene, perfectly setting the tone for a novel where the sea itself becomes a living presence, a force of memory, danger, and renewal.

For readers who love novels like Our Italian Summer by Jennifer Probst or The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman, Where the Heart Meets the Sea offers that same blend of emotional honesty, mystery, and breathtaking setting. It’s a book about rewriting the stories we tell ourselves, about our parents, our choices, and the meaning of home.

Ultimately, Drake delivers a story that lingers long after the last page, not because of its twists, but because of its compassion. Where the Heart Meets the Sea reminds us that sometimes, the journey back to where we began is the only way to truly move forward.


Eastern Shadows

"Eastern Shadows is a riveting, atmospheric thriller that immerses readers in the intrigue and danger of Thailand’s hidden underworld. With vivid prose and masterful pacing, Peter Nordgren crafts a story that is full of suspense, cultural depth, and haunting secrets. Its unforgettable characters and richly detailed setting create a powerful sense of place that lingers long after the final page. This gripping novel is both an edge-of-your-seat mystery and an evocative exploration of identity, corruption, and redemption." —Scott Olsen, Manhattan Book Review


A Winter's Morning

Sylvester is a lone wolf. He has lived alone in the woods for many years. He enjoys the winter. He likes to feel the fresh snow crunch beneath his paws. One winter day, as he jumps over a stump, he sees something bright red in the snow. Sylvester goes to the red patch and finds a teddy bear staring up at him. Sylvester takes it home with him. He names it Poppy. They are quite happy together, playing, fishing, and more. One day, they go out to play in the snow, and Poppy lags behind. They hear human voices! Sylvester tries to get to Poppy, but she is too far behind. A little girl picks Poppy up!

Author Angélique Leone has written an enchanting story about two toys lost years apart, finding each other and then being found by their owners. It is a magical story that will help little listeners’ imaginations to soar. Little ones often feel their toys are more real than adults do, and this story honors those feelings. The illustrations by Grégoire Solotareff are simply beautiful and give life to the characters while painting the wintry setting perfectly. This will become a fast favorite.


Being Thomas Jefferson: An Intimate History

He was 33 years old when he authored the document that invoked autonomy for the 13 colonies from Great Britain. Thomas Jefferson’s reputation was cemented on July 4, 1776, and continued to grow as he went from revolutionary leader to statesman to the third President of the United States (1801-1809). The man, born and raised in Albemarle County, Virginia, was a complex man of both deep thought and occasional reckless action. Despite espousing independence, he retained slaves on his plantation. He believed in abolition, yet never became a full advocate for ending Slavery. Jefferson’s impact on American politics resulted from a rift with Alexander Hamilton, which led to a two-party system. Jefferson administered the United States through its continued growth(Louisiana Purchase) and kept the country out of foreign entanglements (Napoleonic Wars). However, recent history has forced a re-evaluation of the man.

Thomas Jefferson was a unique study in contrasts, as brilliantly highlighted by Andrew Burstein in Being Thomas Jefferson. The meticulous record keeper who got swamped with crushing debt, a public figure with thin skin who firmly held onto grudges, a rogue who seduced his friend’s girlfriends/wives, Burstein adeptly shows Jefferson to be a flawed, yet historically impactful figure. Burstein’s work is objective and fascinating.


Hauntings (Smith & Taylor Classics, 10)

Vernon Lee, Gretchen Felker-Martin, Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya

Hauntings by Vernon Lee is a collection of four haunted short stories. First published in 1890, this reprinting contains a conversation with Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya and Gretchen Falker-Martin, both LGBTQ horror authors. The four stories included in this collection are Amour Dure, Dionea, Oke of Okehurst, and A Wicked Voice. If you are not familiar with Vernon Lee, she was a writer, musician, critic, and activist who lived from 1856 to 1935. Much of her work explores the supernatural, possessions, and hauntings. That includes the four stories featured in this book, which are considered her most famous.

Lee's stories are a reminder of what horror and supernatural stories used to be. Her works are not graphic or gory like some modern horror writers. She unsettles the reader with a significant build-up to a haunting reveal. She adds detail and wit to help the reader along before dropping a ghost or a witch onto the reader's lap. And this book proves why well-written ghost stories are timeless. The book concludes with a conversation between Upadhyaya and Falker-Martin. This conversation offers a lot of insight into Lee's works. This is a great book to add to any fan of the supernatural's collection.