When She Was Ours

There’s a quiet maturity to When She Was Ours by Anna Nordberg that really stayed with me. This isn’t a book that demands your attention with dramatic twists; it earns it through emotional honesty. As someone who’s seen a few seasons of life, I found myself drawn less to the surface story and more to the deeper questions it raises about resilience, responsibility, and the invisible ties within families.

The novel follows Astra as she returns to college shortly after her mother’s death, carrying a grief she doesn’t quite know how to express. One of the most striking elements early on is the letter her mother leaves behind, a simple, heartfelt message that becomes a kind of emotional touchstone for Astra. It’s not grand or poetic, but that’s exactly why it feels so real. Anyone who has held onto something small from someone they’ve lost will recognize the weight of that moment.

Another aspect I appreciated was how the book explores the idea of competence and what it means to be “the strong one.” Astra grows up watching her mother handle crises with calm authority, even in something as intense as an in-flight emergency. That image of control and capability becomes something Astra internalizes, almost without realizing it. Later, we see how that expectation shapes her responses to stress and fear. She steps up in emergencies, yet struggles in quieter, more personal moments. That contrast felt incredibly authentic.

There’s also a vivid thread of memory running through the novel, particularly in scenes from the family’s past. The wedding preparations, for example, aren’t just about celebration; they’re layered with tension, fatigue, and the looming awareness of illness. The small details, such as the heat, physical strain, and unspoken worries, create a sense of realism that many books gloss over. Life doesn’t pause for big events, and this novel captures that beautifully.

What stood out to me, too, was how Nordberg portrays the ripple effect of illness within a family. It’s not just about the person who is sick, but about how everyone else adjusts, the roles they take on, the things left unsaid, the emotional compromises made along the way. There’s a quiet honesty in those dynamics that feels very true to life.

The pacing is measured and, at times, reflective, but I found that it suited the story being told. This is not a book about rushing toward answers; it’s about sitting with questions. And sometimes, that’s where the real insight lies.

I would recommend this to readers who appreciate thoughtful, character-driven fiction, especially those who are interested in stories about family, memory, and the long-term impact of loss. It’s a book that doesn’t just tell you what happened; it invites you to consider how those moments continue to shape a life.


You Matter, Luma

You Matter, Luma by John R. Miles is a wonderful children's book with beautiful illustrations. Told through the journey of a bunny named Luma, this story carries a message that feels both simple and meaningful.

Set in a glowing, moonlit forest, the story introduces Luma as a quiet observer who feels out of place in a world that seems full of purpose for everyone but her. As described early on, while “the forest pulsed with life” and every creature appeared to have something important to do, Luma is left wondering, “Do I matter?” This question is the emotional anchor of the book, making it immediately relatable for young readers who may struggle with similar feelings.

The writing style is gentle with short, rhythmic sentences that mirror the cadence of a bedtime story. The pacing is thoughtful, giving readers time to sit with Luma’s doubts and, later, her growth. The dialogue between Luma and Oliver, the wise owl, is particularly effective. Oliver’s quiet guidance, especially his comparison of ideas to seeds that grow with care, offers an easy-to-understand metaphor for children learning about patience and self-belief.

The illustrations also play an important role. The artwork is warm, glowing, and immersive, with soft lighting and expressive characters that enhance the emotional tone of each scene. For example, the storm sequence, where Luma’s stories are quite literally washed away, adds a layer of tension and vulnerability. It’s a powerful moment that symbolizes setbacks and self-doubt, yet it never feels too heavy for a young audience. Instead, it sets the stage for one of the book’s most reassuring messages: that even when things feel lost, they are not gone forever.

What I found especially moving is how the story doesn’t rush Luma’s transformation. Her realization unfolds gradually. With the help of her friends and Oliver’s gentle wisdom, she begins to understand that her voice and her stories matter simply because they are hers. By the end, when she gathers the courage to share her story and asks others, “What’s yours?” the message comes full circle in a way that feels earned and sincere.

Children ages 4–8, particularly those who are shy, sensitive, or navigating feelings of self-doubt, will enjoy this book. It’s also a wonderful choice for parents and teachers looking to introduce conversations about confidence, individuality, and emotional resilience.

You Matter, Luma is a heartfelt and thoughtfully crafted story that reminds readers that their presence alone has value.


Where the Truth Lies

Rhett and Lucinda have been happily married for the last fifteen years, at least, that’s the façade they present to the world. The truth is, they can barely stand each other, which began about fifteen years ago when a young woman arrived in town, and everything changed. Someone dies, and Rhett and Lucinda have to decide what they will do and how far they will go to construct this perfect life. But now, new evidence has come to light, and it looks like they will lose everything. Where the Truth Lies might be a lot closer to home than they thought.

This story is pretty dark, and you will not find a single man in this good tale. I think the only likeable character in the whole story is Jenn, and things don’t exactly work out great for her. There aren’t any winners in this book, just a lot of broken people who seem to take turns shattering each other’s lives. If you enjoy domestic dramas, you will probably like this one, but it was too dark for me.


House of Spells and Secrets

It’s always been Rowan, her sisters, and her mother. They’ve never stayed in one place for long, but Rowan never considered that they were running from something until her Mother’s death led the sisters to their ancestral home, Swallow Hall, which is falling apart. They meet the grandmother they never knew about, and get more questions than answers. With time running out to save Swallow Hall from itself, Rowan must dig into the past to find out why her mother ran away, never to return to her home and family. And just maybe, she’ll find her own magic along the way.

Swallow Hall is an entire character in itself; it feels alive with emotions. The rest of the characters, though, are kind of bland. Rowan is the only character who has more than one personality trait, and even she’s bland. Half the characters aren’t necessary and could have been combined. The idea that Rowan can taste feelings is really cool and never goes away for convenience, but the way it works is constantly changing. It’s said that she can’t taste her sister’s feelings, yet half the time she can. Most of the magic system is this way; one thing is said, then the rules are broken.


Spellbound by Murder

When Veronica’s Gran takes a bad fall, she packs her bags and relocates with her teenage daughter. Her work is cut out for her when she learns that Gran’s bookstore is struggling more than she let on, especially with competing against a big-box rival. For help, Veronica reaches out to a former mentor, but that backfires when his body is found, and she becomes the cops’ lead suspect.

This is a delightful introduction to a charming world that feels welcoming and inviting with doses of magic and family. These magical elements have an energy and humor that are reminiscent of classic female empowerment stories, such as Practical Magic. The small town vibes are where the humor lies with character interactions that make you want to be part of the community. Snappy dialogue creates a fast-paced tone that keeps the mystery moving quickly and entertaining. The family moments between these incredible women fill the story with heart. The love and support they share provide a genuine representation of three generations who bring out the best in each other. Spellbound for Murder is a charming and clever mystery that is highly recommended with small-town energy, positive female sleuths, and heartfelt family moments.


Serafina Makes Waves

Serafina is a cat, and we all know that most cats do not like water. So, when her parents tell her she has to have swim lessons, Serafina has some big emotions about that. When the big day for swim lessons arrives, Serafina is not looking forward to it. However, when she finally dips in, she ends up being pleasantly surprised.

This book teaches a good lesson: that it just goes to show, you truly never know about anything until you give it a chance and try it. And turns out, you may like it. However, it's always ok if you don't.
This is a really great book, especially for readers who may be afraid of the water or afraid of having swim lessons. This will be a great book to help my sister, who plans on taking swim lessons in the summer.


The Swedish Cookbook

Growing up with my 100% Swedish grandmother and great-grandmother, I was taught different elements of my Swedish heritage. A prayer we say on holidays, the history of our family's immigration, and stories of an ancestor who founded an anti-horse-thief group were chief among them, but I didn't learn much about food until I worked at a Swedish restaurant in college. Thankfully, I don't have to recall those recipes as Niklas Ekstedt, a Michelin-star chef and darling of the culinary world, has delivered something special with The Swedish Cookbook in that people like me, and those with no connection to the Swedish culinary world, can find something delicious to prepare within its pages.

Lagom, a common Swedish word, means “balanced” or “just right,” and that is the principle of Ekstedt's recipes. Recipes for simple side dishes, like Fried Kale with Garlic and Almonds, are on the easier side. There are also recipes for full meals, like the Swedish Meatball feast that includes instructions for crushed lingonberries (trust me—they're delicious!) and potatoes and cucumbers. The instructions are straightforward and, even when the recipe takes time to execute, the steps are intentional and a mouthwatering payoff at the end.

 Some ingredients may be difficult to find in a standard small town grocery store, but for the most part, these dishes are accessible for everyone. Whether you have a Swedish background like mine or not, The Swedish Cookbook is an excellent addition to your cookbook collection.


The Harvey Girl

O.K. I had no idea of the intricacy and scope of the New Mexican Territory’s commerce, linked to railroad development, in 1890. Author Stabenow’s first venture into a new series went a long way toward curing my ignorance.

Full revelation: previous readings of some of her Shugak mysteries, totally beloved by me, set in Alaska, made reading her initial essay into the southwest inevitable.

That admitted, I found sensorial immediacy lacking, some telling seeming to come from a modern commentator, and a grasp of time constraints of nineteenth-century horse-drawn and mounted transport short of personal experience in that (modern) place.

Encountering the woman-hungered American West, Clare Wright is possessed of serious brain power, grasp of business, and actual human interactions. She is an engaging protagonist, with personal acumen and presence entrancing to the reader. Her immersion in the demanding tasks of one of the first uniformed serving corps on America’s expanding rail frontier is fraught with physical realities and societal pressures.

Plot and character development are superior, as one would expect from Stabenow, though some relationships and background are revealed rather late in the narrative.

 I found the acknowledgements both revealing of viewpoint and sourcing. And I will read further Lady Pinkerton excursions.


Violent Femmes' Violent Femmes

Violent Femmes were a staple of the '80s alternative scene. Songs like "Blister in the Sun," "Kiss Off," "Add It Up," and "Gone Daddy Gone" were a big part of the soundtrack to Gen X teens, including mine. These songs were all part of their self-titled debut album, released in 1983. If anyone needs proof that I'm one of those Gen X kids who know the Femmes' music, I got my LP as part of a "12 records for a penny" deal from Columbia House. //Violent Femmes’ Violent Femmes// was one of my favorite albums and spent a lot of time at the top of my rotation.

Violent Femmes’ Violent Femmes  is part of Bloomsbury Publishing's 33 1⁄3 series, a collection of short books that explore individual albums, offering in-depth analysis, history, and cultural context. Atheneum drummer and Femmes fan Nic Brown authored this volume. His book gives the reader an up-close and personal look at the band's formation, vivid descriptions of the members and their unique instruments, and details and anecdotes about the songs drawn directly from interviews with the original band members. This book is a flashback to the mid-'80s and a must-have for any true fan of the Violent Femmes.


Little Wild

Little Wild by Laura Evans carries the dreamy menace of a gothic fairytale slowly turning feral around the edges. Margaret and Joanie’s secret relationship gives the novel its aching emotional core, but the story gradually transforms into something darker, stranger, and hypnotically atmospheric. The heatwave-drenched English countryside feels almost alive, simmering with repression, desire, and old magic waiting to surface. Evans writes about first love with incredible intensity, capturing both its tenderness and its capacity for destruction. As Margaret begins unraveling in the woods surrounding Snare House, the novel leans beautifully into folk horror territory without ever losing sight of its emotional stakes. This is a haunting, gorgeously written debut that feels perfect for stormy summer nights.


Sheepfarmer's Daughter

Engaging, immersive, and impossible to put down.

Penkarrion refuses a marriage her father has arranged, and flees, with some briefly-borrowed-sword-threatening and long, anhungered journeying, to enlist in a mercenary band; what Italian historians would call Condotierri. There she finds a new family, as it were, loyalties, and validation of her own intrinsic independent decencies.

|We encounter a nigh-unto-overwhelming plethora of place names, no maps, and constant movement; movement all too often under miserable conditions. Our heroine’s life is one of service, including domestic barracks duties, constant attention to details, and incessant surprises. Essentially a beginning enlistee’s life, viewed from the inside.

By this other-directed and not yet understood existence, Penkarrion is shaped and matured, scarred and seasoned. She loses friends and is repeatedly wounded, both physically and mentally.

She resists the open sexuality of the band, being, apparently, asexual, though not uncaring of the bondings of others.

For the reader, there is preparation for an expanded scope of existence and performance woven into the developing plot. Even the protagonist’s asexuality is left open to speculation and possibility.||I found myself missing an entire night’s sleep with this fever dream of a book! As sequels are inevitable, I recommend buying this initial adventure //now//.


Princess Minna

Princess Minna is on her sixth adventure, this one involving a singing cow, magic beans, a giant beanstalk, and a music-loving giant. Mildred, the castle's singing cow, has a sound that only a few people appreciate, but to the young Giant girl, she has the voice of an angel. The Giant desperately wants to find the source of the magical singing, but, unfortunately for the townspeople, she keeps grabbing their other animals, upsetting them and their pets. It's up to Princess Minna to save the day and keep everyone happy, and that she does!

 I have enjoyed each Princess Minna book I've read. While most of them are more for a younger audience than myself (6th grade), this one, The Giant Beanstalk, was especially good for me because multiple scenes made me laugh out loud. I liked that I already knew the gist of this story (Jack and the Beanstalk), but, like good retellings, small things were changed to make it similar, but not exactly the same. As always, I enjoy looking at the bright and colorful illustrations.


The Presidential Pardon

The power of the pardon goes back to Ancient Roman times, if not earlier, and has become a political tool that is often viewed by the public as being used improperly to release certain individuals for political reasons or to release those convicted of certain heinous crimes. It was not always this way, as readers learn in this slim but dense book about the power of the pardon and how it has changed over the past 250-plus years.

The author is a noted law professor and takes the general reader on a tour of where the pardon power came from, how it has worked in the past, and how it has been changed over time. One thing he does note is that after President Ford pardoned President Nixon, many people viewed the issuing of pardons as protecting friends from any potential prosecution, though it was not always that way.

This book is designed for the well-educated reader, as it sometimes gets bogged down in legal jargon that may be beyond the ability of some readers to understand in an otherwise highly informative work.


Creatures & Corridors

Brandon Auman’s Creatures & Corridors starts with a strong premise and follows through. Set in the summer of 1992, the story follows 5 teens whose basement role-playing sessions stop being an escape and turn deadly. Their “game cave” becomes a real dungeon, filled with monsters, traps, and a Gamemaster who no longer stays in the realm of fantasy.

What makes the book work is Auman’s grasp of how close fantasy, fear, and adolescence already are. For teenagers, identity is unstable, friendship can shift overnight, and private obsessions can become public embarrassment fast. Creatures & Corridors gives that tension a supernatural form. The result is a horror-fantasy story with real emotional pressure, not just a pile of retro references.

The 1992 setting matters. It gives the book texture and draws on the old panic around banned games and outsider teen culture without leaning too hard on nostalgia. The book feels rough, tense, and a little grimy, which suits the material. This is not a polished throwback. It has more anxiety in its bloodstream than that.

Andrea Mutti’s artwork gives the story much of its force. The shift from suburban normalcy to nightmare dungeon logic needs to feel sudden and oppressive. It does. The monsters and traps land, but so does the deeper fear that the world these teens thought they understood is breaking apart. The art keeps that pressure close.

What lingers most is the book’s sense of how play can turn serious without losing its original shape. Auman does not mock imagination or treat it as a joke. He treats it as something powerful enough to become frightening. That choice gives the story its pulse.

Creatures & Corridors will work best for readers who like horror built on a sharp concept and strong atmosphere. It is tense, visually committed, and clear about what it wants to do. More than anything, it understands that for teenagers, fantasy is never only fantasy. Sometimes it keeps fear at a distance. Sometimes it opens the door.


The Summer Share

If summer had a personality, it would probably look a lot like The Summer Share by Jenn McKinlay—sun-soaked, slightly chaotic, and unexpectedly tender. Hannah and Simon’s accidental joint inheritance of a beach house sparks a slow-burning transformation from reluctant co-owners to something far more complicated. McKinlay balances humor with heart, letting the crumbling cottage mirror their evolving connection. What begins as logistical tension over repairs gradually becomes emotional excavation, revealing what each of them is really afraid to lose. The romance sneaks up gently here, like tidewater reaching shore, until suddenly you realize you’re fully invested in them.


And Now, Back to You

And Now, Back to You by B.K. Borison is a charming, heartwarming romance that effortlessly blends humor, chemistry, and emotional depth. Jackson Clark and Delilah Stewart are delightfully mismatched meteorologists whose constant clashes evolve into a partnership filled with witty banter, mutual respect, and sparks that are impossible to ignore. Set against the backdrop of a historic snowstorm, the novel combines cozy wintery vibes with moments of heartfelt connection and personal growth. Borison’s engaging writing and well-drawn characters make this story as comforting as it is exciting, delivering a satisfying, feel-good romance that’s perfect for curling up with on a snowy or rainy afternoon.

Click Here to buy the book.


A Treason of Magic

This novel feels like stepping into a lush, thorn-wrapped fairytale where desire hums beneath every choice. In A Treason of Magic, Melissa Marr crafts a romance that is as dangerous as it is intoxicating, pairing Gabrielle and Isabeau in a story shaped by duty, memory, and rekindled love. The tension between them crackles—equal parts longing and restraint—as monsters stalk both the woods and their hearts. Marr’s prose drips with atmosphere, and the emotional stakes land with precision. It’s a sweeping, slow-burn queer romance that balances aching vulnerability with feral, defiant hope.


King the Wonder Dog

King the Wonder Dog by Eleanor Lerman is a tender, deeply human collection that explores loneliness, healing, and the quiet magic of companionship. Through interconnected stories of people navigating loss, uncertainty, and second chances, Lerman highlights the profound bonds between humans and their pets. Each narrative feels intimate and sincere, showing how animals can offer comfort, perspective, and even unexpected transformation. Whether it’s a stolen dog, a life-changing encounter, or a creative spark born from pain, these moments resonate with warmth and authenticity. Gentle yet powerful, this collection is a heartfelt tribute to connection in all its forms.


Glory Be

Glory is nine, and life is not simple for her. She struggles with her hot temper and sassy mouth at school, getting herself into trouble more often than one should. When her beloved dog, Roux, goes missing, Glory cuts school to try to find him. Her mom has to take time from work, although she hates her job, so there’s that. Glory’s dad isn’t around much, and when he is around, he has just gotten a new job or just lost one due to his drinking, or he’s gambled all the family’s money away. Glory takes chances, going to dangerous places and meeting some sketchy people while trying to find Roux.

Author Jamie Sumner has written a very compelling, complex story with plenty of family drama, friend drama, and non-stop problems for young Glory. The story is written in verse and has spot illustrations throughout, which will be attractive for young readers, and will likely draw in reluctant readers with all that white space. With such a young protagonist, many may think this is for very young middle-graders, but the subject matter is better suited for older middle-graders.


Wasp's Nest

Rather than building toward explosive melodrama, Wasp’s Nest by Kat Stoddard thrives in emotional tension and quiet revelations. The setup feels deliciously uncomfortable from the start: an ex-husband attending his former wife’s wedding with a much younger date who quickly becomes emotionally entangled with both of them. Stoddard handles this complicated triangle with remarkable tenderness and nuance, allowing every character’s desires and insecurities to feel equally valid. The social-climbing WASP atmosphere gives the novel a polished sharpness, but beneath that glossy exterior is a thoughtful story about longing, reinvention, and the strange shapes love can take. It’s witty, intimate, and surprisingly compassionate.


Goldfinches

This beautiful picture book contains one lovely poem by award-winning nature poet, Mary Oliver. She certainly had a love of nature, and that is what shines through in this sweet poem. The words are nestled into gorgeous, multi-media illustrations by Melissa Sweet, an award-winning illustrator and Caldecott honoree. The colors she uses are rich and deep and sometimes quite subtle. Inset blocks are scattered throughout the book with extra information, such as the scientific family and name for the thistle, how the goldfinch builds her nest, what kind of materials she uses, and more. The poem and art will carry young listeners along through the book. It is a quiet book that may help to settle restless youngsters down at the end of the day or may simply be a good introduction to poetry for little ones. Back matter includes a reprint of the poem for reading without the page-turn breaks, a photo of Mary Oliver’s notes, a 3-page note about Mary Oliver by Melissa Sweet, and a page of notes about thistles and goldfinches as the year goes on. Adults are sure to enjoy this as much as the children they are reading to.


A Tale of Plagues and Perfumes

Nia hides her extraordinary sense of smell. Her mother was worried it would lead her to a fate worse than death. When her mother dies, Nia lives on the streets, where she meets Fox. Between her nose and Fox’s street smarts, Nia survives, but when she is taken in by an aunt, life is much easier. Then a plague arrives in the cargo of a ship. Nia and Fox want to get a closer look at the people from the Cloister coming off the ship. The Cloister is full of Sinsories, people with exceptional sensory abilities, who have created cures for past plagues. When Nia is identified as a Sinsory, she joins the Cloister and learns there are more secrets than schooling. As the plague gets closer and closer to home and family, Nia must use her ability to sniff out the right cure and the Cloister’s secrets before the worst plague in decades decimates them all.

The heroes in this tale have exceptional senses used to save the world, and indeed, the sense of smell as a saving grace is original. While the science behind the world-building is questionable, the target audience will enjoy the adventurous nature of Fox and Nia.


The Open Era

Game, set, swoon. The Open Era by Edward Schmit serves up a romance that’s as exhilarating as a five-set final. Austin and Diego’s chemistry builds with each rally, their connection unfolding in glances, banter, and quiet moments off the court. What makes this story shine is its emotional honesty—Austin’s anxiety and the pressure of visibility are handled with care, grounding the romance in something deeply real. The result is a love story that feels earned, electric, and tender all at once. By the final page, your heart is doing its own victory lap.


How the Story Goes

There’s a quiet, bookish magic to How the Story Goes by Andrew Forrester, where grief and creativity intertwine in unexpectedly beautiful ways. Whit’s struggle to finish his late wife’s fantasy series becomes something more than an obligation when Merritt enters the picture, bringing both expertise and emotional risk. Their collaboration feels less like writing and more like rebuilding language for loss, page by page. Forrester captures the intimacy of shared storytelling with remarkable care, especially as professional boundaries blur into something more vulnerable. The romance here is gentle but resonant, built on trust, imagination, and the courage to continue a story that hurts to finish.


The Franchise

Reading The Franchise by Thomas Elrod feels like stepping onto a film set where the fantasy genre has forgotten it’s being watched. The Malicarn isn’t just a world of dragons and wizards—it’s a manufactured illusion sustained by corporate storytelling and collective belief. Elrod builds a layered critique of ownership and narrative control, especially as one actor begins to question the system he’s part of. The tension here isn’t just magical rebellion, but existential unraveling. What happens when a world realizes it’s scripted? That question hums beneath every scene, making the spectacle feel unsettlingly real.


Sublimation

It starts with a border. It ends with identity splitting in two.
In Sublimation by Isabel J. Kim, immigration becomes speculative horror, where every person is duplicated and divided across nations. Rose and Soyoung’s fractured existence creates a haunting emotional and philosophical tension that never lets up. Kim writes with surgical precision, exploring what it means to live parallel lives that may or may not want to reunite. The corporate intrigue and family dynamics only deepen the unease. It’s a story about selfhood as something unstable, negotiable, and dangerously transferable. By the end, you’re left questioning what “original” even means.


Field Guide for the Formerly Villainous (Deluxe Edition)

If comfort fantasy had a garden gate, Field Guide for the Formerly Villainous would be waiting just inside. Oaklin Nettlewood’s story of recovering after magical coercion is tender, funny, and full of warmth. The farm setting brims with charm, from the ghost granny roommate to the grumpy horse and wonderfully good dog. I loved how healing happens slowly here, through chores, friendship, kindness, and rediscovering magic in everyday life. Even with darker threats looming, the novel remains hopeful and restorative. Cozy fantasy fans should sprint, not stroll, toward this one.


The Fake Divination Offense

Sara Raasch somehow manages to combine fantasy football, fake dating, Dungeons & Dragons energy, and heartfelt romance into one wildly entertaining package with The Fake Divination Offense. Orok and Alexo have the kind of chemistry that makes every interaction sparkle, balancing humor, awkward tenderness, and genuine emotional vulnerability. The sports setting gives the story a fun contemporary rhythm, while the fantasy elements keep things playful and unpredictable. Orok’s struggle with faith and identity adds surprising emotional depth beneath all the banter and PR relationship chaos. Alexo’s secrets keep the tension high, but the romance remains irresistibly sweet throughout. This one feels like cotton-candy escapism with just enough emotional bite underneath the glitter.


My Lover, the Rabbi

Wayne Koestenbaum’s My Lover, the Rabbi is a bold, witty, and intellectually rich exploration of desire, faith, and the complexities of love. With his signature lyricism and sharp observational voice, Koestenbaum crafts a narrative that is at once playful, provocative, and deeply reflective. The story delves into the tension between sacred tradition and personal longing, as the narrator navigates an unconventional, charged relationship that challenges both emotional and spiritual boundaries. Poetic, humorous, and intellectually engaging, My Lover, the Rabbi offers readers a daring meditation on intimacy, identity, and the contradictions of the human heart, leaving a lingering impression long after the final page.


Forty Love

Warm, witty, and uplifting, Forty Love is a charming reminder that it’s never too late to start over. Jane Costello brings humor and heart to Jules’s story as she steps out of her comfort zone and onto the tennis court—and into a new chapter of her life. Balancing single motherhood, career pressures, and the uncertainty of an empty nest, Jules is an instantly relatable heroine. The budding romance adds a delightful spark, while the theme of self-rediscovery gives the story real emotional depth. This is a feel-good read that celebrates taking chances and embracing life’s unexpected opportunities.


No God but Us

Few debuts feel as ambitious and emotionally charged as No God but Us by Bobuq Sayed. Set against the vibrant yet precarious queer underground of Istanbul, the novel follows Delbar and Mansur with extraordinary empathy and complexity. Delbar’s impulsive energy clashes beautifully with Mansur’s guarded realism, creating a relationship dynamic that feels deeply authentic. Sayed writes about exile, queerness, and survival with aching clarity, but the novel never loses sight of joy, humor, or desire. Some scenes pulse with romance while others crackle with political fear, making the entire story feel immediate and alive. It’s a deeply layered novel that balances tenderness and fury in equal measure.


The Bone Dagger

The Bone Dagger by Clara Rhodes reads like a storm held in a human body—beautiful, volatile, and always on the verge of breaking. Helaina Ironblood’s cursed lineage anchors a world full of collapsing kingdoms and ancient relics, but it’s her relationship with Theodon Wrenn that gives the story its volatile charge. Their dynamic is sharp-edged: control versus resistance, destiny versus desire. Rhodes leans into dark romantic fantasy tropes but gives them weight through emotional stakes and mythic consequences. Every choice feels like it costs something irreversible, making the romance as dangerous as the magic itself.


Killer Vibes

If queer crime fiction had a patron saint of chaotic bisexual energy, it would probably be Peter Key from Killer Vibes by Jack Friday. This novel barrels forward with wit, charm, and just enough danger to keep the pages flying. Peter is gloriously imperfect: perpetually stoned, deeply sarcastic, and somehow still impossible not to root for. The Austin setting adds plenty of personality, giving the story a scruffy, offbeat charm that perfectly matches its narrator. What makes the book work so well is the balance between humor and suspense. One moment you’re laughing at Peter’s terrible life choices, and the next you’re genuinely invested in the increasingly dangerous mystery surrounding his uncle’s death.


'Til Death Do We Parent

In ’Til Death Do We Parent, Jess Hilarious delivers a memoir that’s as sharp as her comedy and as heartfelt as her journey. With humor as her compass, she navigates the often messy terrain of coparenting, offering both laughter and insight in equal measure. Jess’s storytelling feels candid and conversational, pulling readers into her world without pretense. Beneath the wit lies a thoughtful exploration of growth, compromise, and redefining what family looks like. It’s an empowering read for anyone balancing love, responsibility, and self-respect—proof that even life’s toughest dynamics can be reshaped with honesty and a well-timed punchline.


The Wish

Heather Morris’s The Wish is a deeply moving and heartfelt contemporary novel that explores connection, compassion, and the fleeting beauty of life. When fifteen-year-old Jesse makes a simple yet profound wish for a virtual experience capturing her life, it sets her on a journey of unexpected friendship with Alex, a solitary virtual reality designer. Morris’s signature empathy shines through as she crafts nuanced, emotionally rich characters whose struggles and joys feel immediate and real. Balancing heartbreak with hope, The Wish is a tender, unforgettable story about love, human connection, and the ways small acts can leave a lasting impact on the world around us.


Romantic Hero

Romantic Hero by Kristy Greenwood takes a delightfully surreal premise and turns it into something surprisingly heartfelt. A fictional cowboy villain walking into real life could easily tilt absurd, but instead it becomes a clever exploration of identity, authorship, and emotional repair. Gertie’s creative block mirrors her personal unraveling, while River Oakley’s presence forces her to confront what she’s been avoiding—both on the page and in her heart. Greenwood writes with warmth and wit, letting humor soften the edges of heartbreak. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, so too does Gertie’s understanding of love’s possible endings.


First and Forever

There’s a spark to First and Forever by Lynn Painter that feels like watching a live wire come alive—fast, bright, impossible to ignore. Duffy and Connor’s viral interview sets off a chain reaction of public scrutiny, forced proximity, and reluctant cooperation that quickly turns into something much more charged. Painter’s signature banter is on full display here, sharp enough to make every exchange crackle. But beneath the humor and PR chaos is a slow realization that pretending becomes dangerous when feelings stop playing along. The romance unfolds with effortless chemistry, balancing spectacle with sincerity in a way that lingers long after the final page.


The Book of the Frog

The Book of the Frog by naturalist Sally Coulthard is a delightful celebration of one of nature's most extraordinary creatures. With genuine enthusiasm, Coulthard brings the remarkable world of amphibians to life, showcasing the astonishing variety of frogs and toads found across the globe. This focus aims to spark curiosity and admiration among readers of all ages, encouraging a sense of wonder about frog diversity and biology

Readers of all ages will be captivated by the amazing creatures, as the book shares the intricacies of their life cycles and dietary habits, as well as the deep evolutionary history that has shaped them over hundreds of millions of years. Coulthard’s narrative is brought to life by whimsical, artfully rendered illustrations.

Beneath the wonder, Coulthard also shares an urgent truth. Like so many species, frogs and toads are vanishing at an alarming rate. These ancient creatures, survivors of mass extinctions, now face threats entirely of our making. I appreciate how Coulthard highlights the importance of conservation and inspires readers to care about protecting these vulnerable species. Many chapters end with an empowering and practical section called “How to Help Frogs,” which features a list of actionable ways people can contribute to frog conservation, from creating a pond in their backyard to joining citizen science projects.


Happiness Included

Happiness Included is a warm, engaging stroll through decades of television history, guided by Eve Plumb’s thoughtful and refreshingly grounded voice. Best known as Jan Brady, Plumb moves beyond the iconic role to reveal a career rich with reinvention and artistic exploration. The memoir shines in its behind-the-scenes glimpses, offering both nostalgia and a new perspective on classic television moments. Yet it’s her personal reflections—on growing up in the spotlight and carving out a multifaceted life—that give the book its heart. With charm and candor, Plumb reminds readers that identity is never a single role, but a lifetime of evolving performances.


Too Many Toucans

One toucan alone could be lonely and boring, but what happens when the toucans keep coming and coming? Toco just wants to build himself a simple treehouse, and he thinks, what can it hurt when another shows up to help, but this Toucan has his own ideas, and so does each one. Things get a little out of control, but Toco doesn't know what to say to the other Toucans to help them understand his vision. Then everything comes crashing down, and Toco is able to find his voice.

This is a really sweet little book with the cutest Toucans and vibrant illustrations. I really like the back of the book, which helps to teach readers to follow their gut, learn about assertiveness, and how to respectfully disagree/agree.

Magination Press, American Psychological


You Are Now Old Enough to Hear This

Aaron Starmer’s You Are Now Old Enough to Hear This is a wildly imaginative coming-of-age novel that blends family mystery, magical realism, and heartfelt self-discovery. When twelve-year-old Roman begins uncovering the strange secrets hidden in his late grandfather’s house, he’s drawn into a twisting web of family legends, eerie artifacts, and long-buried truths. Starmer’s storytelling is inventive and full of wonder, balancing quirky humor with genuine emotional depth. Roman’s search to understand his family history becomes a moving journey toward understanding himself. Clever, original, and deeply memorable, this is a standout middle-grade novel for curious readers.


The Young Will Remember

Eve J. Chung’s The Young Will Remember is sweeping, intimate, and profoundly moving. Set during the Korean War, it follows journalist Ellie Chang after her plane crashes behind enemy lines, where survival depends on the compassion of women who owe her nothing. Chung writes with sensitivity and power, illuminating a conflict too often overlooked while centering female courage and sacrifice. Ellie is a compelling protagonist, and the evolving bond between her and Emma gives the novel emotional force. This is historical fiction at its finest: immersive, urgent, and full of hard-won hope.
Click Here to buy the book


Hungered

Amanda Rizkalla’s Hungered is a haunting and beautifully rendered debut that immerses readers in the fragile, moving world of twelve-year-old Sofia. Living in a car with her mother and younger brother, Sofia navigates a childhood shaped by uncertainty, fleeting comforts, and the small joys that punctuate a life on the margins. Rizkalla’s prose is lyrical and evocative, capturing both the tenderness and cruelty of family, the yearning for stability, and the struggle to claim identity amid displacement. With its deeply felt characters and emotional resonance, Hungered is a striking, unforgettable exploration of survival, memory, and the search for home in all its forms.


The Jellyfish Problem

There’s something quietly luminous about The Jellyfish Problem by Tessa Yang, as if the ocean itself is thinking through its own mysteries. Dr. Jo Ness is an unusual fantasy heroine—rooted in science, grief, and emotional restraint—but her journey toward a glowing sea creature on a remote island becomes something far stranger and more intimate. The jellyfish, Clementine, is less monster than question mark, refracting meaning depending on who observes it. Yang balances ecological wonder with human fragility, crafting a story where grief and discovery move in the same tide. It lingers like salt on skin after a long swim.


Sheep Shape

Sheep Shape is the story of a sheep who is very attached to his winter wool and doesn't want it to be sheared off in the summer, so he decides to run away. While he is living in the wild, his wool gets even woollier. Everyone told him he would be eaten by the wolves, but it turns out that maybe having a big coat of wool is more handy than he ever imagined. You must read this book to find out if the farmer gets his way and shears his coat off.

This was a really cute little book with colorful illustrations. I really enjoyed the illustrations of all the things he accumulated in his wool, dirt, sticks, and other animals. It made the book really funny. I'm glad he didn't end up getting eaten by the wolf.


Professor Thomas Cat's Guide to Understanding the Human Brain

This is not your typical graphic novel. It is jam-packed full of really cool information on the human brain. It also shows images of the areas of the brain and how they work, or how they should work, and compares a typical human brain to a neurotypical human brain with dyslexia.

What is especially cool about this book is that it shows how an MRI works and what it scans. It shows how some kids feel bad when they don't learn the same way as other kids, but that's ok because their brains work differently. Most importantly, I like how they show dyslexia superpowers like different ways of thinking when creating art or seeing the big picture. This book has some really great graphics as well, and is great for readers who learn differently.


Murder at the Spirit Lounge

The last thing Nora expected during her peaceful walk along the seaside was to receive a summons from Mrs. Chimes, the local medium. However, she is more surprised that Detective Inspector Rideout was tasked with coming along. While the medium planned to reveal a robbery, the seance takes a deadly turn that could threaten everyone who attended. To save all those involved, Nora must stay a step ahead of a killer while aiding Rideout in searching for answers.

Step back into the world that Kidd has created with a second installment of Nora Breen’s adventures. The dynamic between Nora and Rideout is delightful, with great dialogue and moments between them had throughout. The connection between them is fun, and every scene they share is an easy favorite. The story is exciting, with a seance and a medium in the middle that add just the right amount of eeriness to the charming mystery. Kidd does a splendid job of keeping you engaged throughout, making you glad you returned to the series and leaving you wanting to come back. A highly recommended treat, Murder at the Spirit Lounge is a fast-paced mystery with the right blend of investigation and charm that keeps you turning the page.


Henry Tudor Must Die

Jillian Laine serves up a wickedly entertaining revenge fantasy in Henry Tudor Must Die. Reimagining Henry VIII’s queens as a force of fury and cunning is a premise too delicious to resist, and the execution is every bit as satisfying. Anne Boleyn and Catalina de Aragón crackle with personality, their uneasy alliance giving the book both bite and emotional depth. The secret Hellebore Sisterhood adds momentum, while the alternate-history twists keep the pages flying. Clever, sharp, and gleefully subversive, this is the kind of book that makes you cheer out loud.


The Killer and Frank Lloyd Wright

There were some who viewed the carnage and conflagration at Taliesin as comeuppance for Frank Lloyd Wright’s moral failings. The agent of retribution was a troubled young man named Julian Carlton, who worked at the Wright home for a short period. Carlton lashed out at injustices, real and perceived, and slew seven people on August 15, 1914. Frank Lloyd Wright had built Taliesin for Mamah Borthwick, the love of his life, but it had instead become the scene of her demise. Frank Lloyd Wright was an innovator whose dreams inspired his architectural creations. Wright was often willing to risk everything to fulfill his goals. This reckless abandon was also witnessed in his personal life as his decision to walk out on his family for Mamah led to a public scandal that nearly derailed his career. Despite infamy and tragedy, Wright maintained a resolve that kept him designing buildings until his passing in 1959.

	The Killer and Frank Lloyd Wright is the latest engrossing true-crime book by Casey Sherman(“A Murder in Hollywood”). Sherman’s acumen for narrative is undeniable, and his exemplary work excels as both biography and true crime. Sherman’s propensity for authoring page turners continues unabated.


102

George comes home from school with a fever of 101, but it rises to 102. A mouse runs across the kitchen with something black in its mouth. Mom catches the mouse, and they put it into a tank. George offers it water and sunflower seeds, but it won’t eat. George falls asleep, and at 1:02 am, a cricket awakens him, signaling George to follow. The cricket magically makes George tiny, and they go through a tunnel to the outside. Nearly captured by an owl, they escape into a hollow tree where they find a mouse family, the family of the mouse George’s mother captured. They are waiting for Father Mouse to bring a black bean home, the final ingredient in 102 Bean Soup that will cure the sick child mouse.

Matthew Cordell is both author and illustrator of this lovely book. The story is a bit like a fever dream, but it is very sweet, and it will spark the imaginations of young listeners and readers. The illustrations are wonderfully creative pen drawings in muted colors with delightful details to keep youngsters engaged all the way through. This will become a fast favorite with little ones.


A Bad Deal in Mormon Land

A fraudulent medium named (at the moment) Ilsa von Hoffman. Ilsa’s former partner in crime is presumed dead. A reporter is following a lead given to her by her dying mother. A Mormon elder seeking to gain the dead Joseph Smith’s blessing to alter the church’s position on multiple marriages. All of these figures are thrown together into a complex, ever-shifting web of alliances and motivations in 1908 Salt Lake City.

And it’s an absolutely wild ride to go on.

I picked up this book expecting a fun story of intrigue and deception with a historical backdrop, and that’s exactly what I got. From the first few chapters, this book moves at a quick pace, dragging the reader along for the ride. Short chapters allow the reader to pop in and out of characters’ heads, getting brief glimpses into their minds before rushing along to the next part. Never once does the story feel bogged down in just one character, but it also never feels too quick. Wirkus has an admirable sense of pacing, finding the exact right balance to make this book a proper romp.

Best of all, for history nerds? There’s a list of recommended books for further reading.


Hammer of the Gods

Sometimes to make a history book more interesting to the average reader, writers will write it in a fictional style of writing. They'll include a good amount of history and sources and references, but with the style of reading a fiction book with quotes to appeal to readers who might struggle with the subject. This is what we get when we learn about the life of Viking Olaf Tryggvason who lived in the 900s and led many raids on mainland Europe and islands around Norway. His story is one of conquest, plunder, raids and many battles, but the actual facts that have survived are not as well known compared to leaders in other parts of Europe of this time. One of the parts that is most frustrating about the so-called “Dark Ages” is that it is called that because many of the sources about it no longer exist.

While many people might find this style of writing interesting and engaging, I don't, and the entire work feels more like historical fiction than a true history book.


A Forest, Darkly

There is so much to love about A Forest, Darkly. The protagonist is gold. Mehrab the witch lives deep in the forest. As a young woman arrives at her door, dark powers rise in the woods, and children from the village begin to disappear. Set in the Sourdough universe, S.A. Slatter weaves a rich, atmospheric world, thick with folklore and thoroughly immersive.
<brYet this story also falls short on plot and genre. Is it a fairytale? A mystery? A fantasy? What does the protagonist want? To be left alone? To have company? To survive the hot flashes? Yes. Too many of the protagonist’s pivotal choices are rooted in a backstory that remains too far off-page to provide necessary emotional weight or clarity.
While her immediate concerns (like surviving menopause and avoiding old gods) make for tactile scenes, they often feel disconnected from the larger mythological stakes, leaving the reader with a protagonist who is more a passenger of the plot than its driver.

Ultimately, while Slatter writes with immense confidence and gorgeous prose, the book’s internal logic feels misaligned—like a masterfully tailored garment worn inside out, where visible plot seams hide the heart of the story.


Maria the Wanted

Maria only wanted to make enough money to emigrate from Mexico to raise her baby. The imposing men who waltzed into the factory she worked in had different ideas. Maria watched in horror as her co-workers were savagely attacked until an almost courteous assailant found her. He offered her a chance at survival, yet her survival meant losing her baby while becoming a vampire. Maria’s rebirth as a member of the undead has changed her in body and spirit, but she has a constant need for blood that she must quench. However, her humanity prevents her from wantonly harming others to gain sustenance. She becomes a vigilante, a person of great reverence in the community. However, she desires to meet Adam, the vampire who made her. Upon their second meeting, Adam offers her a chance to do good on a greater scale, which also puts her in greater danger.

Maria the Wanted proves captivating from its bloody, but poignant, beginning and manages to draw the reader into its seductive clutches as the transformation of Maria from a meek woman to a formidable warrior unfolds. Author V. Castro (The Haunting of Alejandra) has written a remarkable book that transcends the vampire genre.


Devils We Know

Adventure takes the wheel in Devils We Know, and L. T. Thompson steers it straight into found-family brilliance. The stakes are higher this time, the danger sharper, but it’s the relationships that anchor the story. Cas, Remy, and Finn’s bond feels lived-in and fiercely protective, while the budding romance between Remy and Finn adds a tender undercurrent to the chaos. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching queer teens claim space in a world determined to deny them. Swashbuckling meets soul-searching here, resulting in a story that’s as emotionally resonant as it is thrilling.


Angry Girls Will Get Us Through

Social change is, at its heart, a revolution borne by women. A note by Abigail Adams to her husband warned against giving unlimited power to husbands. During the colonial period and the War of 1812, when men were pulled from homes to fight, women’s roles changed and evolved. In the 1840s, a group of primarily women drafted the Declaration of Sentiments, which described the tyranny of men’s control over women. In 1920, women pushed for Prohibition, hoping to curb the alcoholic tendencies of husbands to get better treatment within marriage. In the 1970s, women’s reproductive health pushed Roe vs Wade through. Still today, many seek to strengthen women’s rights through a cyclical, never-ending gender revolution. Through their acts of rebellion, social change comes about that generally benefits all.
,br>This book is heavily skewed left, with commentary on current states of affairs and those throughout history through a lens of women’s rights, or lack thereof. The history is exhaustive while keeping the book smallish (under 250 pages) and the bibliography extensive. While there may be despair within the pages for the constant cycle of work to attain women’s rights, there is hope as well.

Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers


Finley

Chantelle Thorne,Burgen Thorne,Candace Spizzirri

This is a funny story about a moose who wants to go to a fashion show. However, he would like to dress fancy, and it seems no one wants to put clothes on him. I imagine it is rather hard to dress a moose. In the end, Finley perseveres and finally finds a nice lady to dress him in very bright colors. It seems Finley finally gets everything he has always wanted.

This was a fun book. I thought since the title rhymed that the story might too, but it did not. I really like the bright colors in the illustrations, and this was a fun read. My favorite part when just one person showed him some kindness. In the end, kindness is always key.


Owls Make Terrible Teachers

Chantelle Thorne,Kristi Mahoney,Burgen Thorne

You get to school to find that the teacher isn’t there. That’s okay. There is a substitute teacher. But wait! The substitute teacher is an owl, and owls make terrible teachers. What’s so terrible about owl teachers? To start with, owls are nocturnal. What does that mean? It means owls sleep all day and are up all night. The owl snoozes all day, and when everyone else goes home, your class has to stay because the substitute is just getting started. Good thing your parents were warned and packed pajamas. When owls wake up, they hunt for food. Quick! Hide the classroom hamster! The PE teacher has gone home, so the owl takes over that class as well. And so it goes.

Kristi Mahoney has written a very silly story that is sprinkled with interesting facts about owls. Written in second-person point of view, present tense, the text commands attention from young readers and listeners and will hold their interest through to the end. Illustrations by Chantelle and Burgen Thorne fill every page with bright, cartoony illustrations that have plenty of fun details to keep youngsters engaged. Kids will love this one.


The Bridge Back to You

This emotional second‑chance workplace romance beautifully blends personal growth and professional reconnection. When two former lovers unexpectedly co‑inherit the restaurant where they first fell in love, they’re thrust back into both business and each other’s orbit. Working side by side in the kitchen offers plenty of opportunities for tension, laughter, and honest conversations as they explore whether their past love can bloom into something new while honoring their shared culinary legacy. The Bridge Back to You is a tender, food‑filled journey that balances the heat of rekindled attraction with the satisfying rhythms of teamwork and collaboration.


The Name Game

In this delightful workplace romance, two people with the same name arrive for the same managerial job at a remote Isle of Ormer farm shop, leading to a mix‑up that turns serious pretty quickly. As they’re forced to work together to make sense of the situation — and to prove they’re both the right fit — their clashing perspectives give way to mutual respect and unexpected sparks. The quirky premise, charming setting, and slow‑burn workplace banter make The Name Game a standout for readers who love light‑hearted romantic stories with depth and persistent chemistry.


A Latte Like Love

A Latte Like Love by Michelle C. Harris is a warm, charming workplace romance that brews slowly but beautifully. Audrey’s keen barista instincts and daily encounters with the enigmatic Theo create an irresistible slow-burn tension, while the cozy Brooklyn coffee shop setting adds a comforting, intimate atmosphere. Harris handles the emotional stakes with care, exploring vulnerability, trust, and self-acceptance as Theo struggles with his past and the scar he hides. Audrey’s persistence and genuine sweetness make their romance feel heartfelt and earned. With humor, tenderness, and just the right dash of longing, A Latte Like Love is a delightful story that will leave readers smiling.


The Gulf of Lions

Reeling from her husband’s infidelity and still processing her breast cancer diagnosis and treatment, Alice secures an assignment to write about camping across France with her daughters—an opportunity she seizes as a chance for renewal and recovery. Her young daughters, Sophie and Iris, are skeptical but game; her husband, Pete, is supportive but also unhappy to be left behind. On her own in France, Alice meets a variety of locals, who house and feed her and the girls and show her another way of living. Alice recognizes herself for the first time in many months, though her memories of illness and marital discord are never far away.

When Alice meets Didier, a handsome Frenchman, she believes she has found a chance for happiness; he, along with gorgeous food and the beautiful countryside, allow her a peace she has sought for too long. But when Sophie meets a young riding instructor, the idyll of the trip crashes apart, and Alice must reenvision—again—what she wants her life to be. Life happens fast; nothing is forever. Alice and her family will emerge from France forever changed.


Three Reasons for Revenge

Detective Sergeant Judith Lee’s purview is homicide, but the complainant asked for her. Lee listens to a statement from a college student alleging sexual assault by her psychologist. When Lee hears the name of Dr. Robert Walker, she wants to pursue the case, as Walker’s name has surfaced previously. Meanwhile, a package containing a salacious video showing Robert and a patient is delivered to Dr. Walker’s wife. Walker’s wife is a newswoman, and while she believes Robert’s denials, she decides to distance herself from him to avoid being tainted by the looming scandal. Lee wants to follow up with the alleged victim, Alexis Turner, but is unable to locate her for further inquiries. Shortly thereafter, Dr. Walker is found dead with a note pinning the blame on DS Lee. Lee needs to locate Alexis Turner before her career is finished.

Since her authorial debut in 2018, Dervla McTiernan has distinguished herself as an outstanding mystery writer (The Ruin, What Happened to Nina), and her latest effort continues that trend. Three Reasons for Revenge is unforgettable, as much as it can be unsettling, with clever twists and turns that leave the reader lightheaded yet incredibly satisfied when all is said and done.


I'm Looking for a Man in Finance

I’m Looking for a Man in Finance by Sabrina Waldorf is a sizzling enemies-to-lovers workplace romance that crackles with wit, tension, and irresistible chemistry. Hallie Woods’ assignment to date a Wall Street hottie for her magazine sets up a series of hilarious and steamy encounters with James Rossi, the finance bro determined to thwart her plans. Waldorf expertly balances humor, romantic tension, and heartfelt moments, letting their connection evolve naturally amid flirtatious banter and personal growth. The story shines with sharp dialogue, engaging characters, and a peek into the high-stakes world of finance. Fans of flirty, smart, and heartfelt romances will be delighted.


Give Me Everything You've Got

Sultry, unsettling, and impossible to shake, Give Me Everything You’ve Got by Imogen Crimp reads like a heatwave trapped inside a haunted house. Ruby’s arrival at Ellen’s country estate initially feels glamorous and seductive, but Crimp slowly tightens the tension until every interaction carries a dangerous charge. The relationship dynamics between Ruby, Ellen, and Lara are brilliantly uncomfortable in the best way, constantly shifting between admiration, manipulation, and desire. What stood out most was how vividly the novel captures the hunger to create art while also fearing what that ambition might cost. This is the kind of literary fiction that simmers under your skin long after you finish it.


A Thousand Perfect Lies

A Thousand Perfect Lies delivers all the irresistible ingredients of a prep-school thriller: glamour, secrets, shifting loyalties, and danger behind polished doors. Billie Vale is an instantly compelling protagonist, entering Wickham Academy under a false identity to clear her sister’s name. The mystery unfolds at a brisk pace, with every hallway and whispered conversation hiding fresh tension. Beneath the suspense, Billie’s emotional journey adds depth as she wrestles with family fractures and questions of trust. Sharp, stylish, and twisty, this novel is a thrilling coming-of-age story about finding courage in a world built on deception.


The Paris Match

Kate Clayborn’s The Paris Match is a tender, emotionally rich romance about second chances and rediscovering yourself after heartbreak. Layla Bailey’s journey is both relatable and deeply affecting as she navigates the complicated terrain of an amicable divorce that may not be as settled as she believed. Set against the romantic backdrop of Paris, the story sparkles with tension and introspection, especially in Layla’s dynamic with the guarded yet compelling Griffin. Clayborn excels at crafting nuanced characters and heartfelt moments, making this novel a beautifully layered exploration of love, loss, and the courage to open your heart again.


Set Point

In Set Point by Meg Jones, the tennis court becomes a battleground where rivalry and attraction collide with electrifying force. Inés Costa’s fall from grace and Chloe Murphy’s rising stardom set the stage for a classic enemies-to-lovers arc, but what makes this story stand out is its emotional precision. Every practice drill, every shared glance, feels like a rally you can’t look away from. Jones builds tension the way a player builds momentum—slowly, deliberately, until it bursts. By the time the US Open arrives, the question isn’t who will win the match, but whether love can survive the scoreline.


Maybe the Body

Maybe the Body by Asa Drake is a luminous debut that explores identity, lineage, and the quiet tensions between love and survival. Drawing from landscapes in both the Philippines and the American South, Drake crafts poems that feel lush, urgent, and deeply reflective. The collection examines how bodies are shaped by political, ecological, and emotional forces, threading together family histories with striking lyricism. With inventive forms and vivid imagery, these poems feel both grounded and expansive, making this a powerful and memorable introduction to a bold poetic voice.


Moon's Lullaby

Momma Duck is trying to put her ducklings to get ready for bed. The little ducklings do not want to go to bed, because they are not tired. The little ducklings would like their mom to tell them the story of the moon's lullaby. Every time the mom duck tries to tell the ducklings how other animals go to bed one duckling hops up to act like that animal. This is a funny book because the ducklings don't want to go to bed. I really like the pictures in this book. I like all the different kinds of animals that live around the pond. I also like seeing how all the other animals get ready for bed. My favorite part is when the ducks sleep in the momma's wings.


This Will Be Interesting

This Will Be Interesting by E. B. Asher is a delightful, heartwarming fantasy that combines magic, adventure, and romance with impeccable humor. While it’s not a typical workplace romance, one could certainly argue that adventurers on a quest are “at work,” navigating high-stakes missions, teamwork, and professional rivalries—all while romance simmers beneath the surface. Galwell True and his eclectic band of questmates balance danger, duty, and unexpected feelings in a story full of slow-burn romances, witty banter, and magical mishaps. Asher’s vibrant world, charming characters, and clever mix of adventure and heart make this an utterly irresistible, cozy, and hilarious romantasy.


Where You'll Find Us

Soft, strange, and quietly devastating, Where You’ll Find Us by Jen St. Jude reads like a memory you’re trying to hold onto before it slips away. The concept of Amaranth—a refuge outside of time—is beautifully rendered, but it’s Cal’s internal journey that truly captivates. Questions of identity, belonging, and the cost of safety versus reality weave through every page. The romance is tender, almost fragile, blooming in a place where time itself feels uncertain. By the end, the story leaves you with a bittersweet ache, like summer ending just as you’ve learned how to live inside it.

Click Here to buy the book


Writing in Parallel

There's a simple idea at the center of Writing in Parallel that might take you by surprise: most of AI's problems are writing problems. Bill Resimont's concise argument is that language models fail not because they're bad at processing text, but because the text they're trained on is bad — scraped indiscriminately from the internet, unverifiable, unstructured. His proposed fix is elegant: pay many writers to respond to the same prompt independently, preserve every voice exactly as it is, and let AI make sense of the collection.

He calls this parallel writing, and it's older than you'd expect. The book traces the practice back to ancient Greek classrooms where students carved independent answers into wax tablets simultaneously, each working alone, each contributing to a shared picture of collective thought. What's new is the technology to read all those tablets at once, at scale, and find the patterns without erasing the distinctions.

Resimont writes with a teacher's instinct for structure. Each of the 12 chapters lays its foundation carefully before building up, and every chapter closes with 10 discussion prompts — this book clearly pulls double duty as course material. The prose is clear but methodical; readers looking for narrative momentum may feel the pace, but readers who want the argument built rigorously will appreciate the care.

The book is at its best when it engages directly with where AI has already failed. Microsoft's Tay chatbot, Amazon's gender-biased hiring algorithm, IBM Watson's flawed oncology recommendations — Resimont walks through each case not as a cautionary tale but as evidence: the problem was the data, and the fix requires intentional, structured, human-sourced text. His framing is precise: "patterns become visible, blind spots emerge, and the reasoning behind each idea is preserved rather than flattened." Parallel writing, he argues, can produce exactly that.

Writers, educators, and technologists who believe the next phase of AI requires more human intentionality, not less, will find Writing in Parallel a clear-headed and genuinely useful read.


Nowhere Burning

Riley and her brother Oliver have suffered innumerable tragedies in their young lives, so when the promise of an escape comes—no matter how frightening it might be—they jump at the chance to be free. Their story is the heart of Catriona Ward's latest novel Nowhere Burning.

Nowhere Farm is infamous for a series of horrific crimes, but by the time Riley and Oliver need an escape, it is inhabited by a group of adolescents and children who care for each other like a family. The leader, a charismatic young woman named Noon, welcomes them into the close-knit community and makes them adhere to rules that, outside of Nowhere, might seem troubling. But, in this space, the place that has saved them, the rules make sense. As Riley and Oliver navigate this new life, documentarians Marc and Kimble seek to tell the story of Nowhere and the celebrity who once owned it and made it infamous.

The twists in the novel surprised me at every turn, but be warned: there is some horrific content as relates to the abuse of children. None of it is graphically depicted, but the implications are enough to turn your stomach. Still, Nowhere Burning is an excellent thriller.


Midstream

The pandemic lockdown, devastating wildfires and drought, burnout from caring for a husband with life-threatening medical conditions…all of these led Kate Washington to the brink. As she looked ahead to her fiftieth birthday, she felt trapped by indecision: should she end her loveless marriage or stick it out? A lifelong swimmer, she set herself the goal to swim—or at least dunk—in 50 different bodies of water before she turned 50. Most of the time, she turned to rivers and swimming holes found in Northern California, a landscape she clearly loves and describes beautifully. This slim volume describes many of her dunks, framed by her thoughts on marriage, menopause, misogyny, mothering, and selflessness. Even happily married women can relate to Kate’s efforts to reclaim her sense of self, which had thinned over the years of caring for everyone else. She is unsparing in her account of her husband’s passivity and disinterest, but equally unsparing in describing her own blistering rage. Both make for uncomfortable reads, but after a time, her repeated immersions in cold water became a baptism of sorts, and many readers will enjoy discovering a similar sense of renewal in these pages.


Writing in Parallel

I came to Writing in Parallel as a skeptic. The combination of "AI" and "writing marketplace" in the pitch usually signals either a panic piece or an overclaim, and I was braced for both. What I found instead was a short, careful, methodical book genuinely trying to solve a specific problem — and solving it by bringing writers back into the equation as the point, not the casualty.

Bill Resimont's central argument: the AI trust problem is a data problem, and the data problem can be addressed by paying writers to respond to the same prompts independently, preserving each voice without blending anyone's perspective into anyone else's. He calls this parallel writing, traces it to Greek classrooms (wax tablets, simultaneous responses, each learner working alone), and builds outward into a framework covering AI training datasets, market research, and national security applications. The scope sounds grand, but the argument stays grounded.

What I appreciate most is the honest accounting of where AI has already failed. He walks through Tay, Amazon's hiring algorithm, and IBM Watson for Oncology — not as headlines, but as structural evidence. AI fluency, he explains, creates the illusion of accuracy; systems learn the pattern of language without the reliability of thought. Parallel writing, because it's structured and auditable and multi-voiced, can actually fix this.

The commercial model at the book's center is the part that'll stick with me longest. In an industry that keeps asking writers to work for exposure, Resimont is proposing something more honest — and Writing in Parallel makes the case convincingly. A marketplace where paragraphs have a price tag and the value is in the variation, not the polish, is a genuinely different pitch from anything writers have been offered in the last decade.

Writers, educators, and anyone who's spent time thinking about whether their perspective has economic value in the age of generative AI: this one's worth your afternoon.


Almost Grown

Jesse Malin’s Almost Grown crackles with the energy of a life lived at full volume. With a voice that feels both streetwise and deeply reflective, Malin traces his path from a chaotic Queens childhood to the hard-won fulfillment of artistic dreams. What makes this memoir stand out is its emotional honesty—he doesn’t sand down the rough edges, instead letting every misstep and triumph hum with authenticity. The backdrop of his recent health struggles adds a powerful layer of resilience, transforming the book into more than a music memoir. It’s a testament to endurance, creativity, and the stubborn, beautiful refusal to give up.


The Storm Cloud

This book is about a little bear who is feeling sad, like a rain cloud is raining down on just him. The bear thinks no one else will care but he finds out that friends do care. Friends want to help friends feel happy and have fun. Bear finds out that his friends will be there for him even when the skies are gray and cloudy. The friends make a picnic and try to help bear.

The pictures are very colorful, except for the storm cloud. I like the illustrations of the flowers and rainbow. My favorite part of the story is how his friends stayed with him when he was feeling bad and in the rain and helped him feel better and then there was a rainbow.


The Changeling

The novel from fifty years ago, and subsequent movie, stunned audiences with the horror of a changeling child. A changeling is a child who had been switched with another, usually generating horror and disbelief. This book drifts along with the main character who has no impetus to face life, but relies on a steady stream of alcohol to numb her into passivity and dullness. Like many heroines, she follows the will of others into nightmare scenarios and strange occurrences. These events take on a dream like disbelief; she does not know or understand what is happening at any given moment and this reader was left with similar reactions.

"Whenever Pearl attempted conversation, it sounded like gibberish.”  Thus the main character, Pearl. became a favorite with the mob of children on the island because her storytelling was the stuff of fairy tales. That being said, the novel never reaches the level of horror, but drifts along aimlessly only depicting a woman’s meaningless life.


Squirrel Lock Holmes #1

//Squirrel Lock Holmes: The Pet Rock Mystery// is the first story in this series that features Squirrel Lock Holmes and her sidekick, Watson, a purple mole. This easy-reader story tells, in five chapters, how Reggie the Rabbit lost his pet rock, Dwayne, and how they work together to follow clues, gather and interrogate suspects, and figure out where Dwayne is to make Reggie a happy Rabbit again. Readers will learn the steps that police and detectives use to solve a mystery, and then try them out on their own when a problem, no matter how big or small, comes up, to save the day! The colorful and busy illustrations in this young readers' graphic novel will give the reader things to look at, and, as a bonus, there are some extra activities to do! Readers or story lovers in elementary school will be the right audience for this book and series.


How to Kill a Crime Writer

When Niamh’s bestselling crime writer mother dies, she inherits her country home, where she hides away from her grief. She’s not even read her mother's latest novel, but when an advance copy shows up at her door, she finds she can’t run away from it. The strange part is when Leah Rebecca Overton appears in the kitchen. Her visit wouldn’t be so concerning if Leah weren’t a fictional sleuth from her mother’s novels. But when the fictional sleuth claims Niamh’s mother was murdered, she has to decide whether or not she wants to know the truth.

The story leans fully into making Leah a well-rounded presence with a personality that contrasts nicely with Niamh. She’s a personified answer to the question if that ‘little voice’ in your head were to come to life. Her role throughout is to call Niamh out on various things and push her out of her comfort zone. This is a story about dealing with grief, and even Leah’s presence is a representation of that struggle for closure. The death of her mother and the estrangement between them before that are issues Lotz explores throughout the story. How to Kill a Crime Writer is a mystery you don’t see every day, with a fictional sidekick and an exploration of grief that makes it stand out.


The Last Best Quest Ever

In The Last Best Quest Ever, F.T. Lukens delivers a charmingly chaotic adventure that gleefully pokes at classic quest tropes while building something heartfelt beneath the humor. Ellinore’s carefully constructed reputation unravels in spectacular fashion, and watching her stumble toward authenticity is half the fun. The banter between her and Aven crackles with rivals-to-something-more energy, while the ragtag crew adds warmth and unpredictability. What lingers most is the emotional honesty tucked inside the antics—this is a story about choosing who you are when the spotlight fades, and letting yourself be seen.


The Tricky Business of Faerie Bargains

//The Tricky Business of Faerie Bargains// by Reena McCarty promises a witty, cozy fantasy rooted in the clever bureaucracy of fairy contracts. Protagonist Poppy Hill, who previously spent a century cooking for the Wild King, now negotiates these deals in the human world. When a bargain goes awry, she must return to the Otherside to fix it.
While the novel starts strong, it quickly abandons its greatest assets. Once Poppy crosses over, the book stalls and all the wheels come off. At once. On the freeway. The narrative descends into an uninspiring travelogue, occasionally interrupted by soft-core food porn. Poppy hates her job but does nothing to fix it; she longs for the Otherside, yet once there, she does nothing but whine and get captured.
Worse, the attempted romantic triad utterly lacks chemistry, and McCarty’s Faerie feels like a bog-standard fantasy realm less engaging than a 90s video game level you can't navigate out of. Ultimately, a delightfully snarky protagonist and a clever premise fail due to endless scenic descriptions, a stagnant plot, and a hollow emotional core.


I'm Frankie Frankenstein

//I'm Frankie Frankenstein// is a story about being happy with who you are, and encouraging others to feel the same! Frankie Frankenstein is a rather large, tall girl who happens to be her father's creation, and her father loves her enough to let her do what she wants, which is to visit the local children in town, something she's never done before. Frankie gets excited, then she realizes that there is a big difference between them and her, and she starts wondering if she should change some things about herself to fit in better. Thankfully, she figures things out, and she has lots of supportive people around her!

 //I'm Frankie Frankenstein// would obviously be a good book for Halloween-time, but besides her being a monster, the story is appropriate for all the other times of the year, too. I like that the illustrations are full-page color, and there are several funny parts when we learn of her "monster-ways." Kids aged five and older will understand and enjoy this story.


I’ll Be Awesome Tomorrow: A Memoir of Chasing Perfection and Letting Go

Marian Sandmaier opens this memoir with a hard stop. She is sitting at a kitchen table with her boyfriend, Dan, and telling him she wants to die. It is a blunt beginning, but it is also a clean one. Sandmaier does not drift into the story. She drops us into the worst of it, then works backward to explain how a bright, capable girl became a woman trapped in a private war with herself.

The answer starts early. By age 8, she was already dreaming of becoming someone else, someone shinier, easier, more adored. Not merely better. Transformed. The memoir follows that hunger through childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood, as Sandmaier chases perfection through appearance, performance, romance, work, and self-control. She wants to be charming, fearless, wanted, and above all, immune to rejection. What she gets instead is exhaustion, shame, and a life lived under a punishing internal voice.

Sandmaier is so direct about what perfectionism actually costs. She does not prettify depression or dress up the damage. She shows the panic, the freeze response, the cruel self-talk, and the deep need to be loved without having to be herself first. That honesty gives the memoir its force. She understands that perfectionism often passes for discipline when, for some people, it is really fear with a good posture.

Dan gives the book its emotional anchor. He is not a savior. He is simply present, stubborn, and alarmed enough to keep trying. Their conversations bring the story down to a human scale. Sandmaier writes especially well about the small, ugly, ordinary moments that carry real weight. A look. A pause. A sentence said too late. She knows how much can turn on something that would look minor from the outside.

At times, the memoir circles the same emotional territory more than once. That fits the subject, since perfectionism is repetitive by nature, but some readers may want a little more forward motion in the middle. Even so, Sandmaier keeps the pages moving because the stakes stay high. She is not just recounting pain. She is documenting the slow work of loosening a grip that had become a way of life.

I’ll Be Awesome Tomorrow is strongest when it refuses easy redemption. Sandmaier does not pretend to have solved herself. She argues for something harder and more useful: learning to live without the fantasy of becoming flawless first. That makes this memoir sharp, humane, and worth the time.


Situational Leadership®: The Model for Leading Others, Navigating Change, and Unlocking Performance

Situational Leadership® is a business book with a clear purpose. Sam Shriver and Suzie Bishop take a leadership model that has been around for years and make the case for why it still matters. Their focus is simple: good leaders do not use the same style with every person, every time. They adjust to the task and the moment.

That is the book’s main strength. It strips away a lot of the noise that clings to management advice. Instead of selling leadership as a personality trait or a slogan, it gives readers a framework they can use. The model asks leaders to look at readiness, then choose how much direction or support a person needs. That is practical. It also matches real work, where people do not all start from the same place.

The tone stays grounded. This is not a book trying to dazzle the reader with theory. It wants to be useful. That is a good fit for managers, trainers, executives, and team leads who need something they can apply without a long detour. The examples and praise around the book suggest a broad audience, from corporations to nonprofits to families, and that reach gives the framework more room to breathe.

What works best here is the emphasis on judgment. The model does not ask leaders to label people and leave it there. It asks them to pay attention. That shift matters. It puts the burden on the leader to think, adjust, and act with intention. In a lot of workplaces, that alone would be an upgrade.

The book also understands that leadership changes under pressure. Change, growth, and performance all demand different responses. The value of the model is that it gives leaders a way to keep moving without guessing their way through every decision. That makes the book feel steady and current at the same time.

Readers looking for a flashy new system will probably not find one here. Readers looking for a clear, proven framework for leading people with more care and less guesswork should. Situational Leadership® is direct, usable, and built around results. It knows what it is and does not waste time pretending to be something else.


Ruined Beauty

There's a moment in "The Clearing" where the speaker watches her husband sink six feet into the ash where their house used to be, his voice rising up: I'm walking on the roof! It's the kind of scene a director would kill for. Disorienting, darkly comic, and devastating all at once. That moment tells you everything about what Michelle Bitting is doing in this collection: finding the image that cracks the frame open.

Ruined Beauty opens on the January 2025 Palisades-Eaton fires and never fully leaves them. But this isn't a disaster memoir. It's an ensemble piece, and the cast is extraordinary.

The father is the collection's best villain. He stomps through the family home declaring I am the King!, doles out loyalty conditions like a mob boss, and burns through his children's lives with the confidence of someone who never considers the wreckage. By the time Bitting puts him in a hospital gown, dementia softening his face into something unrecognizable, the scene cuts both ways. He reaches for her hand, thinking she's someone else. She lets him.

The brothers are ghosts in the truest sense, haunting without appearing. One died by suicide, one by illness, and Bitting renders them in fragments — model airplanes taken to the thrift shop, a Steely Dan playlist at a funeral, the image of them dancing in the wind at the close of "Lost in the Disco Ball." The ensemble doesn't need to be living to carry weight.

The pacing moves the way good films do: tight scenes giving way to sprawling set pieces. "MEMORIAL" is a tight, formal elegy — linked couplets, barely a page. Then "I Get You, Norma Desmond" explodes across four pages, pulling Sunset Boulevard, Euripides, Lorca, and a college production at Berkeley's Greek Theatre into a single careening monologue. It shouldn't work. It absolutely works.

The ending earns it. "The Grain of Gold Waving in the Sun" reaches for grace and lands it with bread, wine, a gardener's scythe, and love as the thing that keeps the wheel turning. After everything that preceded it, the fire, the funerals, the father, the chemo, that final note of praise hits like a coda that was written in the first reel, and you just didn't know it yet.

If the collection has a weak scene, it's that same closing poem in isolation. Read alone, it feels soft. Read as a finale, after the full weight of what came before, it opens.

Ruined Beauty is the kind of book that plays better on a second read, once you know who doesn't make it out. That's the highest compliment.


Ruined Beauty

Michelle Bitting's sixth collection arrives from the ashes. Three anchor poems respond to the January 2025 Palisades-Eaton fires, and that catastrophe pulses through the book like a second heartbeat, coloring even the grief that predates it.

The opening poem, "Sudden," carries Thích Nhât Hanh and Octavia Butler in the same breath without straining. Bitting moves between registers — mystical, domestic, furious, tender — the way water moves through cracks.

"The Clearing" is the standout. It folds Buzz Aldrin's moon-walking observations into a marriage's reckoning with fire and loss, collapsing memory and lunar imagery into something that holds its weight. The poem earns its ambition. Not every poem here can say that.

The book runs three movements: Sudden, The Play, and Prayer Meeting. The first section grieves two brothers (one by suicide, one by illness), a father dissolving into dementia, and a mother who performed happiness the way others perform grief. By the time you reach the title poem, that litany has become physical. You carry it.

Bitting's formal range is impressive. "Manger, Emptied" is a villanelle. "MEMORIAL" is a linked-word chain poem where the last word of each couplet seeds the next. "I Get You, Norma Desmond" runs four pages, swallowing Sunset Boulevard, Euripides, Lorca, and Fosse without blinking. That poem alone justifies the collection.

The book stumbles where it reaches for transcendence before earning it. "The Grain of Gold Waving in the Sun" gestures toward radiance that feels willed rather than discovered. It's the one poem that explains itself instead of showing. In a collection this sure-handed, it lands like a wrong note.

The cultural texture is Californian with canyon fires, Hollywood mythology, coast fog, and the specific melancholy of living near the sea when the hills are burning. Bitting wears that geography without fetishizing it. When she invokes St. Teresa of Ávila through the Bernini sculpture on the cover, it pays off across the whole collection. These poems are ecstatic in the original sense: torn open, still singing.

The framing matters. Editor Theresia de Vroom connects Teresa's mysticism to what she calls the Anima, the female soul exposed. That frame holds. Bitting's speaker is a woman who has buried brothers, watched a son through chemo, lost a house to wildfire, and kept writing. The poems don't perform survival. They are survival, caught mid-motion.

Ruined Beauty doesn't resolve its grief. It shows the transformation happening, which is harder to write and more honest to read. Press it on strangers. It will find the ones who need it.


The Call of the Bugle

John Amos gives The Call of the Bugle the feel of a war story told from inside a haunted room. A correspondent wakes in a newsroom with brandy on the desk and bugles still ringing in his head, then drops back into the Crimea, where the Charge of the Light Brigade turns mud, horses, artillery, and smoke into a single brutal memory. The setup is strong because it keeps shifting the book between report and recollection. Amos uses letters, diaries, and the correspondent’s own account to widen the frame, so the novel feels layered without losing its forward motion. The battlefield scenes are vivid, but the quieter material often lands harder: Emily’s blanket, the crocuses on the bar, the smell of honeysuckle after rain, the strange unease in the cottage, the little objects that keep memory alive even when the people are gone.

That is where the book finds its best shape. It understands that war does not stop at the charge. It keeps working through grief, through love, through habit, through the places where the dead seem to linger. Dryden’s death hangs over the novel, but so do Jenny Farley, the correspondent’s drinking, Emily’s steadiness, and the old cottage full of mirrors, drawers, uniforms, and letters. Amos handles those pieces with enough patience to make the story feel inhabited. He wants the book to be big and elegiac and a little uncanny, and he mostly gets there. A few passages lean hard on their own importance, but the manuscript has enough emotional pressure to carry them. The result is a historical novel that feels earnest without being dry and romantic without going soft. It has the scale of war fiction and the odd intimacy of a ghost story. Readers who want something lean and purely tactical will probably lose patience with it. Readers who like historical fiction that blends battle, love, grief, and memory into one long echo should find this compelling.


The Call of the Bugle

The Call of the Bugle has the sweep of a historical novel and the pulse of a ghost story. John Amos sets the book in motion with a war correspondent waking in a newsroom, brandy on the desk, bugles still ringing in his head, then drops him back into the Crimea, where mud, horses, artillery, and exhaustion turn the Charge of the Light Brigade into something immediate and ugly. That framing works. It gives the novel a restless shape, moving between memory, report, and aftermath instead of settling for a clean battlefield tale. Amos is most effective when he lets small details carry the weight: a blanket from Emily, a pink bundle in a stranger’s arms, the stink of Balaclava, the sound of rain on canvas, the crocuses on the bar. Those touches keep the book human. They also keep the history from turning into museum glass.

The novel’s strongest idea is that war does not end when the charge ends. It keeps going in the mind, in the house, in the drawer, in the mirror, in the smell of honeysuckle after rain. Amos understands that well, and he builds the story around that pressure. The correspondent’s investigation into General Dryden’s death gives the book a detective shape, while the letters and diaries widen the emotional field and let other voices push against his own. Emily grounds everything. She gives the novel warmth, intelligence, and a little steel. Without her, the book might tilt too far into its own Victorian melancholy. With her, it feels anchored.

The book is not subtle about what it wants to be, and that helps it. It wants to be sweeping, sad, romantic, and haunted, and it mostly earns those ambitions. A few passages lean hard on their own dignity, but the manuscript has enough motion and enough plain feeling to carry them. Readers who want a brisk war novel probably won’t be patient with it. Readers who like historical fiction that folds love, grief, and memory into the same register should find a lot to stay with here. Amos has written a serious, earnest novel with a real emotional center, and he knows exactly what kind of thunder he’s after.

Recommended for readers of historical fiction who like their romance crossed with war, grief, and memory.


The Call of the Bugle

The Call of the Bugle opens on the thunder of the Charge of the Light Brigade, but John Amos is more interested in what comes after the charge than in the spectacle itself. He follows a war correspondent drawn into the story of Robert and Emily, then moves the book between the battlefield, the newsroom, and the private spaces where memory does its quiet damage.

Amos writes war with precision. Horses, smoke, shells, uniforms, fear, all of it lands cleanly. The novel is strongest when it slows down and lets grief, longing, and duty press in. That is where the book earns its weight. Robert is not only trying to understand a famous battle. He is trying to live with what the battle took from him and what it returned.

Emily gives the story its human center. She brings warmth and steadiness, and she keeps the novel from tipping into nothing but ruin. Their relationship is part of the cost and part of the survival. Amos handles that well. The love story never feels pasted on. It belongs to the book’s larger argument about what war does to the people who survive it.

There is also a strong sense of ritual here, with men and horses moving through history while Tennyson’s lines echo in the background. Amos knows when to let the prose run and when to hold it back. That control gives the novel its force. It keeps the book steady even when the emotional ground shifts under it.

The Call of the Bugle is a war novel, a love story, and a study of memory. It is most effective when it looks past the heroic myth and stays with the human damage underneath. Amos writes with confidence, and he gives the reader a clear, hard, and moving look at what war leaves behind.


The Call of the Bugle

The Call of the Bugle is historical fiction with a firm grip. John Amos takes the Charge of the Light Brigade, the Crimean War, and the private lives caught in their wake, then builds a novel that keeps narrowing its focus until the human cost is all you can see.

What makes the book work is its discipline. Amos does not rush the reader through the history. He lets the world settle in around the characters, and he gives each scene enough air to land. The result is a novel that feels patient without ever feeling slow. It has shape. It has control. It knows exactly when to press forward and when to hold back.

The book also has a strong sense of consequence. Robert’s story is not just about a man who has seen war. It is about what war asks of a person, what it takes from him, and what remains once the noise is gone. That gives the novel real weight. The battle matters, but the more serious damage is what follows him home and keeps asking for attention.

Amos writes with a steady hand. He knows how to move from public history to private reckoning without losing the thread. He also knows how to make the details count. A uniform, a desk, a notebook, a room lit by lamplight, a horse in motion, all of it carries meaning because the prose treats those details as part of the story, not decoration around it.

There is restraint here, and that restraint helps. The book does not lean on noise or spectacle to make its point. It trusts the reader to stay with the characters and let the emotional pressure build. That is a better move, and it gives the novel more staying power.

SFBR readers who like serious historical fiction, strong period detail, and a novel that treats duty and memory as lived things should find a lot to admire here. The Call of the Bugle is thoughtful, muscular, and grounded in a clear sense of purpose. It knows the cost of the charge is not only measured in casualties. It is measured in what people have to become to survive it.