When Rosemont Abbey goes up in flames, the result of an apparent arson, it shocks the residents of Wilbeth Green, a quaint English village. In the wake of the blaze, Paul Everly, the town troublemaker, has vanished. He's quickly convicted in the court of public opinion, but his twin sister, Louisa, refuses to believe that Paul would set fire to a church. In fact, she's convinced not only that he's innocent but also that he's dead. Even though the 26-year-old twins haven't been close in years, Louisa can feel his loss. She can't explain to others how she knows Paul is gone without sounding insane, so she launches her own private investigation into what she's sure is her brother's murder.

As Louisa pokes her nose into the arson, she ruffles feathers among the good folks of Wilbeth Green, not all of whom are telling her the truth. The more she digs, the more sure she is that something nefarious is going on in the sleepy village. With several unexpected helpers—including a handsome detective inspector, a spunky old lady, and a wise vicar—Louisa will find out what happened to Paul, no matter the risk. Can Louisa solve the puzzling mystery before it's too late? Or will she be the next to vanish?

I always enjoy a good historical mystery and I was pleasantly surprised by The Burning of Rosemont Abbey by Naomi Stephens. Louisa and Malcolm are both understated, likable characters. They're compassionate, determined, smart, and nice without being doormats. You can feel the warmth and chemistry between them from the moment they see each other. The investiative trio they form with Mrs. Watson, a sassy octogenarian, is probably my favorite part of the book, though. Their antics just made me laugh. The mystery they're looking into is fairly straightforward, but there were enough plot twists to keep me guessing throughout the novel. Although I probably should have seen the killer coming, I really didn't. Their motive did seem a tad weak. Still, their identity was a surprise but not a what?-that-doesn't-make-any-sense surprise.

The novel is published by Bethany House and is, technically, Christian fiction. However, it's not overtly religious. Louisa is the daughter of a (deceased) vicar. She and her family attend Sunday services regularly and are involved in the social happenings at the church. In addition, their vicar is her friend, confidante, and spiritual leader. Most of the "Christian" bits of the story are things he says, showing that requesting and receiving his advice is a natural, normal part of Louisa's life. The book never feels preachy. In fact, it doesn't even really feel like Christian fiction, although it is clean and, ultimately, a hopeful, faith-promoting read.

All in all, I very much enjoyed The Burning of Rosemont Abbey. I'm definitely up for reading more by Stephens. Apparently, she has another mystery coming out soon that has a similar setting to this one. You can be sure I'll be keeping my eye out for it!

Readalikes: The publisher compares this book to Agatha Christie's mysteries. I haven't read enough of them to really compare. 

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of The Burning of Rosemont Abbey from the generous folks at Bethany House in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!

Lauren Bailey is tired of waiting for The One to magically appear in her life before she can make her dream of becoming a mother a reality. Only her very closest friends know that the 31-year-old first grade teacher has applied to adopt a child from China; in fact, she's been waiting to be matched with one for over a year. Since the rules dictate that she can only adopt as a single woman or as a wife of more than two years, Lauren has stopped looking for Mr. Right altogether.

Enter Joshua Avery, a goofy tech developer who's stepped in as a short-term sub for the other first grade teacher at Lauren's school. He's cheerful, funny, compassionate, successful, and...interested. As much as Lauren tries to convince herself she doesn't feel the sparks between them, she can't deny that a certain dinosaur-obsessed creator of educational apps is constantly on her mind. When she finally receives an email matching her with a child, Lauren is torn. The timing couldn't be worse. If she proceeds with the adoption, will she lose Joshua? If she prioritizes her new relationship, will her dream—what she feels is a God-given calling—of being an adoptive mother ever come true? She's having a difficult enough time getting her family onboard with the idea, let alone the new man in her life. Will she have to sacrifice her dream of adopting for her dream of finding the perfect partner? Is there some way to have both, even when it's looking like she'll get neither? 

Christy Award-winning author Nicole Deese and her husband adopted their daughter from China. That experience inspired her to write Before I Called You Mine, a novel that's not just about adoption, but also about the choices we make in life, the anxieties we feel, and the ability we have to conquer them through faith in God. (It's Christian fiction, natch.) Although my experience with adoption differed greatly from Lauren's fictional journey (my husband and I had been married for over a decade and had three biological children when we adopted our newborn daughter here in the U.S.), I could definitely empathize with a lot of her feelings and frustrations. Her decisions and thought patterns didn't always seem logical to me, but I still felt a connection with her character. She's sympathetic and likable, although—not gonna lie—she got irritating and self-centered at times. Joshua, on the other hand, is completely charming, likely because he has no actual flaws except for being a little too silly. He could have used some rounding out to make him more realistic. I especially dug Lauren's kind, supportive circle of friends; their presence adds a nice found-family aspect to the novel that gives it another layer of heartwarming appeal.

Deese has a warm, engaging writing style that makes Before I Called You Mine both compelling and enjoyable. The story is predictable, sure, but it's got enough conflict going on to keep it interesting. Lauren's romance with Joshua develops over time, her adoption journey is realistically bumpy, and her dealings with her parents and sister bring up some important issues about family, adoption, and decision making. This might be spoiler-y, but I would have liked more in the story about Lauren's actual experience as a single, working mother of an older child who has been plopped into a completely foreign living situation without being able to understand more than a few words of English. That whole experience—which could be incredibly rocky—feels glossed over in the novel. 

I know a lot of readers shy away from Christian novels because they often get too preachy, cheesy, or just over-the-top Jesus-y. Before I Called You Mine does have a stronger religious vibe than other Christian books I've read, but it's handled in a way that feels mostly natural and balanced. To be fair, I'm a religious person and I often have discussions with family and friends about church, scriptures, spiritual promptings, how God works in my life, etc. I like the way Deese deals with the religious aspects of the story, and I am definitely one who puts down a book if it's too preachy! This one isn't (at least not for me). 

Overall, I quite enjoyed Before I Called You Mine. It's clean, heartwarming, uplifting, and faith-promoting. I cared about the characters and felt invested in their plights. There was enough going on in the story to keep me reading. Its themes resonated with me as a mother, an adoptive parent, and a Christian woman. Deese's writing style appeals to me so I will definitely be reading more from her. 

(Readalikes: Reminds me of other books about adoption, although no particular one is coming to mind. Help!)

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of Before I Called You Mine from the generous folks at Bethany House in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

When Avis Montgomery's older brother goes off to war, he makes her promise to keep open the small, private library where he is head librarian. Avis is shocked by the charge. Not only is she a married woman (even with lots of women entering the workforce while all the men are away, it's still scandalous for a wife to labor outside the home), but she doesn't even like to read! Surely, Anthony has chosen the wrong person to replace him.

Anthony hasn't been gone long when Louise Cavendish, the steely heiress who owns the library, decides the place needs to be turned into something more useful. Desperate not to let her brother down, Avis invents a reason to keep the library open on the fly: she's started a town book club that needs to use library resources. Since she's actually done no such thing, she must pull off the impossible in a short amount of time—with Louise's narrowed eyes watching her every move. Gathering every warm body she can find, reader or not, Avis launches her tentative book club. Suddenly she is forced to start reading the novels she's always eschewed while also learning how to lead a club that is somehow becoming an essential part of her small Maine community.

The book club brings together Martina Bianchini, a single mother who works at the munitions factory to make ends meet and lives in fear of her estranged husband; Ginny Atkins, a spitfire who will do anything (including recruiting book club members) to earn the money she needs to buy back the land the Navy appropriated from her family on her beloved Long Island; Freddy Keats, a handsome one-eyed war vet with a mysterious past; and Louise, who watches the proceedings with a critical eye, determined to shut down the library despite Avis's efforts to keep it running. As the members meet regularly, what started as a wartime diversion becomes an important lifeline during a time of worry and upheaval. What will happen to the little group if Louise shuts it down? How will any of them survive the war without the one thing that's keeping them all sane?

As soon as I heard about The Blackout Book Club, Amy Lynn Green's newest offering, I knew I wanted to read it. The novel appealed on so many levels: an interesting World War II setting, bookish themes, and an author whose writing I admire. Since I really enjoyed Green's last effort (The Lines Between Us), I went into this one with high exprectations. Probably too high, because I didn't end up loving The Blackout Book Club quite as much as I wanted to. Still, I liked it overall. It's a gentle novel that is clean, uplifting, and heartwarming. That makes it sound like a cheesy inspirational read, which it's not. What it is is a good, wholesome book that's engaging and well-written. Our quartet of women narrators are all sympathetic and likable, with some being more memorable than others. My favorite is Ginny, who's got a whole lot of heart to go along with her spunky, fun-loving personality. Green's prose is warm and skilled. Plotwise, the novel gets a little slow at times, but there was enough going on to keep me reading. So, while The Blackout Book Club didn't blow my socks off, I still found it to be a pleasurable read that is touching, entertaining, and edifying. 

Note: Amy Lynn Green is a writer of Christian fiction. Although The Blackout Book Club technically falls into this genre, it's really not a religious book. There are references to church attendance, wearing a crucifix, and praying, but the mentions are brief. What I'm trying to say is, if you're not a fan of preachy religious fiction, you have no reason to worry!

(Readalikes: Reminds me of Jennifer Ryan's World War II novels, especially The Kitchen Front)

To the FTC, with love: I received a copy of The Blackout Book Club from the generous folks at Bethany House Publishers in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!

Although she knows war is raging in foreign lands, 15-year-old Olive Alexander never thought it would really reach her. She thought she was safe on the isolated ranch in New Mexico's Jornado del Muerto desert, where her family has lived for generations. Then, her beloved older brother enlisted. And now, the Army has claimed 75% of the Alexanders' land for a top-secret military project. Olive's seen the posters—everyone must do their part for the war effort—she just never thought her part would include leaving her home. Especially without her mother, who has to stay behind to work the portion of the ranch that still belongs to the Alexanders.

Olive's not happy about moving to Alamogordo to live with her grandmother. She's not happy that her mother isn't coming along. And she's really not happy about being forced to go to public school, when she's always been taught at home. Olive's Alamogordo classmates either ignore her or make fun of her, except for one—Jo Hawthorne, who's also new to the school. Sure, she's a pious Jesus freak, but at least she's nice. There's only one problem. Jo's father is the Army sergeant who's taken over Olive's ranch. The two can't possibly be friends. Except they do form an unlikely bond. Then, one day, the sky explodes, Jo disappears, and the girls never see each other again.

Seven years later, Jo is back in Alamogordo. Changed by her years away, she has returned to demand answers from her estranged father. What really happened on the day of the explosion? What was he actually doing out in the desert? And where is Olive? Jo won't stop digging until she has the answers.

I loved Jennifer L. Wright's debut novel, If It Rains, so I was thrilled when I discovered she had a new book coming out. Come Down Somewhere, her sophomore effort, revolves around a homefront World War II event that I'd never heard of before. Bonus. I dig historical novels that highlight interesting but forgotten incidents. The book is more about the characters than anything, though, and both Olive and Jo are likable and sympathetic, even if they're not particularly unique or memorable. Their relationship definitely needed more development; it didn't feel strong enough to send a grown-up Jo on such a determined quest to figure out what happened to a childhood friend. Even though I didn't feel super connected to either of the girls, I did become invested in their story. Plot-wise, the novel kind of crawls along, with most of the action happening at the end of the novel. Although it defintiely drags in places, I found the story compelling enough to keep reading. The Big Reveal wasn't a huge surprise; it wasn't super obvious either. All these things considered, I didn't enjoy Come Down Somewhere nearly as much as I did If It Rains, which is disappointing. Still, I liked it for the most part. I do think Wright is a talent to watch, so I'll be keeping en eye out for her next book.

Wright's books are Christian novels, which are always hit-or-miss for me. As a religious person, I appreciate stories that are uplifting and faith-promoting. If they get cheesy or heavy-handed? I'm out. Unfortunately, Come Down Somewhere tilts a little too much in the preachy direction, which gets annoying at times. I prefer subtle lessons. Nevertheless, I give Wright props for writing clean, hopeful, God-positive books.  

(Readalikes: Wright's books remind me of those by Amy Lynn Green and Jocelyn Green.)

To the FTC, with love: I bought a copy of Come Down Somewhere with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger. Ha ha.

As a treat for their employees—many of whom were immigrants with little money for frivolities—Chicago's Western Electric Company planned an elaborate lake excursion to take place on July 24, 1915. Four passenger steamers were chartered to carry people down the Chicago River from Cicero, Illinois, to Michigan City, Indiana, where the company would provide an afternoon of food and fun. Invitees were bubbling over with excitement about the prospect of enjoying a day off picknicking with their families. The festival-like atmosphere soon turned to horror, however, when the overpacked S.S. Eastland began listing to port. In less than 15 minutes, the vessel rolled, trapping hundreds of people inside the doomed ship. Although the boat was still attached to the dock, resting in shallow water, and was equipped with plenty of lifeboats, 848 passengers and crew members died in the disaster.

Drawn by the Current, the final novel in Jocelyn Green's Windy City Saga trilogy, revolves around this forgotten tragedy. Our (fictional) heroine is Olive Pierce, a 29-year-old insurance agent, who is excited when she unexpectedly receives two tickets to attend the outing. She and her best friend, Claire Sterling, board the S.S. Eastland looking forward to a lovely day. When the boat rolls, chaos ensues, and it's only belatedly that Olive realizes Claire is not among the survivors. To assuage the grief and horror resulting from her experience on the Eastland, the insurance agent throws herself into her work, battling red tape to help those affected by the disaster. When she encounters resistance to her efforts, Olive enlists the help of a handsome newspaper photographer. As the two work together, secrets are revealed that could put everything Olive's working for at risk. Can she find justice for those who deserve it most? Will she ever be able to put her own nightmares behind her?

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC of Drawn By the Current from the generous folks at Bethany House via those at NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!

When Gordon Hooper meets Dorie Armitage—the sister of his college buddy, Jack—he's instantly smitten. She's got a zest for life that is hugely appealing to his more sedate self. Before their romance makes it farther than a few flirty letters, Pearl Harbor is bombed, pulling the U.S. into war. As a Quaker, Gordon refuses to fight. Dorie is outraged at his cowardice and even more enraged that Gordon has convinced Jack to be a conscientious objector as well. She refuses to speak to either one of them ever again.

Three years later, Gordon and Jack have been assigned by the Civil Public Service (CPS) to work as smokejumpers in an Oregon forest. Although not everyone is happy about their presence, mostly the pacifists are left alone to do their jobs. As a member of the Women's Army Corps (WAC), Dorie also faces her share of prejudice. Still, she loves doing her part for the war effort by working as a mechanic at Fort Lawton, volunteering at a nearby hospital, and being a charming date for lonely, homesick soldiers-in-training. 

When Jack is badly burned in a suspicious wildfire, Gordon is devastated. And angry. He knows there's more to the story than his superiors are letting on. When he shares the awful news in a letter to Dorie, he never expects her to reply let alone show up at his strike camp on a phony Army assignment. Together, the two form a tense, secret partnership to find out what really happened to Jack. What they uncover shocks them both. With the fate of the nation hanging in the balance, they must examine the deepest parts of their hearts and souls as they decide what to do with a very dangerous secret.

I've been seeing nothing but rave reviews for The Lines Between Us by Amy Lynn Green, so I was thrilled when Bethany House sent me a copy of the book for review. I've read a lot of World War II novels, but only a few that take place entirely within the U.S. The Lines Between Us offers up a new perspective on what it was like for American soldiers who were given non-combatant assignments, whether by choice or not. Through Gordon, Jack, and Dorie, Green examines the roles and ideals of conscientious objectors versus those of a gung-ho soldier who's proud to fight for her country, even though her gender prevents her from serving on the front lines. This contrast provides plenty of tension and conflict to keep the story interesting, while also giving the reader some intriguing food for thought. Beyond that, The Lines Between Us is also a compelling mystery that brings to light a piece of WWII history I knew nothing about. The novel's characters are a likable bunch, whose flaws make them relatable, while allowing all to grow throughout the tale. Surprisingly, given that the book starts with a budding romance, the love stories here are subtle and not a major part of the tale. This is a Christian novel, so faith plays a central role. Still, the book never gets overly preachy or cheesy. In fact, characters are shown wrestling with the tenants of their various religions, struggling to understand what is right when their convictions are being challenged on every side. This questioning makes the characters both believable and relatable, while also prompting readers to ask themselves what they would do in a similar situation. For all these reasons and more, I very much enjoyed The Lines Between Us. I'm going to recommend it to my book club because it's a clean, interesting, well-written novel that is brimming with discussion-worthy material. You better believe I'm also going to be checking out the author's previous book as well as everything she writes in future.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Promise to Return by Elizabeth Byler Younts)

To the FTC, with love: I received a print copy of The Lines Between Us from the generous folks at Bethany House in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!

As her father's unofficial apprentice since childhood, 26-year-old Meg Pero has become an excellent photographer in her own right. Although females in the profession are basically unheard of in 1871, Meg sees no reason why she shouldn't be given a chance. All she has to do is convince the Army officials who hired her late father to help them survey the Grand Canyon that she is more than capable of working in his stead. Easier said than done. 

Captain Benjamin Coleridge is an engineer tasked with finding a way to cross the impenetrable Grand Canyon. He's got his own reasons for heading up the risky expedition, aims he plans to divulge to no one. His job gets infinitely more complicated when the indomitable Miss Pero shows up, insisting on tagging along. She broke his heart five years ago; he's not about to let her back in. He doesn't need the aggravation or the distraction. 

Despite Meg and Ben's awkward history, the two are soon trekking together into the wilds of Arizona Territory. They, along with the others in their small party, must endure treacherous terrain, dangerous wildlife, perilous storms, dissension in the ranks, and more as they seek to complete the impossible task they're assigned to do. Meg's willing to risk her life for the thrill of capturing pictures of never-seen-before views, but what about her heart? Giving Ben a second chance just might be the biggest gamble she's ever taken. What will happen when the expedition ends? Will he walk away again, taking her battered heart along with him? Or will the adventurers finally get their happily ever after?

When Lark raved on her blog about A Distance Too Grand—the first installment in Regina Scott's American Wonders series—I knew I had to get my hands on a copy. I'm always up for a historical novel with an interesting setting, an intriguing premise, and eye-catching jacket art. Although I'm not always big on Christian novels, the other factors mentioned, plus Lark's recommendation, convinced me to give this one a go. I'm glad I did. I've been to the Grand Canyon many times (the north rim is only about a five-hour drive from my house), so I have no problem picturing it in my head, but Scott's descriptions of its breadth and beauty really did bring it to vivid life. Meg and Ben aren't captured quite as well as neither of them are particularly original or memorable characters. They are likable, though, and I definitely wanted them to get their long-awaited HEA. While A Distance Too Grand is categorized as a romance, I found it had a nice blend of action/adventure, mystery, and history to balance out the love story. As far as the Christian element goes, this one seemed more faith-promoting than preachy to me. Personally, I love that it's a clean, uplifting book that I can recommend to anyone without reservation. Sure, it's predictable and cheesy at times, but overall? I enjoyed it very much. In fact, I've already read the second book and am looking forward to the third, which came out in October.

(Readalikes: Nothing Short of Wondrous and A View Most Glorious by Regina Scott; also reminds me a bit of Misty M. Beller's books)

To the FTC, with love: I bought a copy of A Distance Too Grand with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger. Ha ha.

With her father away from home to find work, 20-year-old Tansy Calhoun must pitch in even more than usual to help her family.  Not only does she help her mother take care of the home and care for her younger siblings, but Tansy also works as a packhorse librarian.  Delivering books to the folks nestled high in the Appalachian Mountains is the highlight of her long days.  She loves the freedom, the land, and the people.  While there's satisfaction in the simplicity of her life, Tansy can't help but long for the kinds of magical romances she reads about in books.  Is it too much to hope for a Prince Charming of her own?

After working out of state with the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), 26-year-old Caleb Barton has returned to Kentucky to help his mother after the death of his brother.  He's surprised to learn that Tansy—the girl he's been in love with since childhood—remains unmarried.  When a smooth-talking writer comes into town looking for stories for the Federal Writers' Project, his sights land on the pretty librarian as well.  Can Caleb wrestle up the courage to finally confess his feelings for Tansy before it's too late?

Crochety spinster Perdita Sweet may still be embittered over her own lost love, but she's not about to let Tansy make a poor choice.  Can her meddling persuade her starry-eyed cousin to stop looking for love inside the pages of a novel and see that the perfect man is right in front of her?  Or will Tansy break all their hearts by falling for the fancy city slicker?

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Along a Storied Trail from the generous folks at Revell (a division of Baker Publishing Group) in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

It's been over twenty years since 43-year-old Sylvie Townsend had her heart smashed to bits by a lying suitor.  She's never quite recovered, but she has found fulfillment in mothering her adopted daughter, Rose Dabrowski.  At 17, Rose is a headstrong young lady who yearns for independence and freedom.  Although Sylvie is trying to loosen the apron strings, she fears her impulsive daughter is headed for nothing but trouble.  When Rose launches a desperate search for her birth family, Sylvie tries not to take it as an affront.  Knowing she needs to be supportive, she attempts to push her anxiety and fears away and give her beloved daughter the space she so obviously needs. 

With the colorful, chaotic 1893 World's Fair in full swing right on their doorstep, Sylvie has warned Rose repeatedly to be very careful when out and about in Chicago.  Her worst fears are realized when her daughter vanishes without a trace.  Has the young woman been abducted?  Or has she run away from home to escape her mother's suffocating watch?  Sylvie cannot rest until she knows Rose is safe.  Enlisting the help of her sister, Meg, and a multi-lingual musician named Kristof Bartok, she combs the extensive World's Fair venue in frantic hope of finding her missing child.  While the search brings her and Kristof loser together, Sylvie feels herself drifting further and further from Rose.  Can she find her daughter before it's too late?  With Chicago growing more crowded and dangerous by the day, Sylvie fears she'll never see Rose again ...

Shadows of the White City, the second book in Jocelyn Green's Windy City Saga trilogy, takes place 22 years after the first book, Veiled in Smoke.  Although Meg and other characters from the initial installment are present in the second, it's really Sylvie's story.  While she and her cohorts aren't super original story people, they are sympathetic and likable.  I definitely identified with Sylvie, especially in her plight as an adoptive mother.  Her devotion to and desperate yearning for connection with her daughter felt all too real to me.  The World's Fair makes for an exciting backdrop to the story.  Green describes it vividly, dropping all kinds of fascinating tidbits about the event throughout the novel.  As far as plot goes, the tale remains compelling to the end, even though it's significantly longer than it needs to be.  The mystery of Rose's whereabouts is not very mysterious or surprising, but it still keeps the story interesting.  Like Veiled in Smoke, Shadows of the White City is a Christian novel, so it's clean, uplifting, and faith-promoting.  Although the book is overly long with a predictable storyline, I still enjoyed this engaging read.  I'm looking forward to the final installment in the trilogy, which features Meg's grown-up daughter and the way the 1915 Eastland Disaster in the Chicago River impacts her life.  Sounds intriguing!

(Readalikes:  Veiled in Smoke by Jocelyn Green; also reminds me of The Lost Girl of Astor Street by Stephanie Morrill)

Sisters Meg and Sylvie Townsend have a lot on their plates.  Not only do they run their family's bookshop in downtown Chicago, but they also have to keep a close eye on their widowed father, Stephen.  His experiences as a POW during the Civil War still haunt his mind and soul, making him paranoid, confused, and prone to wandering—sometimes carrying a loaded weapon.  Stephen is always warning his daughters of danger on the horizon.  This time, he's right.  As a raging fire engulfs the city, the family must scramble to save their bookshop and themselves.  Although the women get separated from their father in the chaos, their business is destroyed, and Meg suffers debilitating burns on her artist's hands, all three survive the deadly fire.  As the dazed family tries to figure out where to go from here, they receive another shock—Stephen has been accused of murder.  Witnesses say he shot Hiram Sloane, one of his oldest friends, on the night of the fire.  Since Stephen is obviously not in his right mind, he's forced into an insane asylum, despite his daughters' vehement protests.  No matter how sick their father is, he would never murder someone in cold blood.  Would he?

Meg knows her gentle father won't survive another incarceration, especially in a place as soulless as the asylum.  The only way to get him released is to prove him innocent, which Meg vows to do.  Enlisting the help of Nate Pierce, a sympathetic newspaper reporter, she and Sylvie set about investigating the murder of Hiram Sloane.  While doing that, they also have to figure out how to live with no money and little hope of rebuilding their bookshop.  With everything in ashes around them, how will they survive?  Can they free their father before what little is left of his sanity is gone completely?  As their beloved city is being rebuilt around them, can Meg and Sylvie find the strength, the courage, and the hope to go on?

I love me a sweeping family saga, so I was naturally drawn to Jocelyn Green's historical trilogy set in 19th Century Chicago.  The first installment, Veiled in Smoke, introduces the atmospheric setting as well as the likable Townsend family.  Vivid historical detail, especially concerning the Great Fire of 1871, brings the city to life while viewing it all through the eyes of our admirable, root-worthy heroes makes the event and its aftermath feel intimate and personal.  Although there is a murder mystery at the heart of this novel, it's more family saga than thriller so the story moves along at the pace of the former rather than the latter.  The tale does get overly long and the mystery really isn't very mysterious, but I still found Veiled in Smoke compelling enough to keep me reading.  Because this is a Christian novel, it's clean, uplifting, and faith-promoting.  Although it gets preachy in places, the religious themes are not super heavy-handed, which is something I appreciate when reading in this genre.  All these things considered, I found Veiled in Smoke to be an engaging, edifying novel that I liked but didn't absolutely love.  Even still, I've already read the second book and am looking forward to the third.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of I Survived the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 by Lauren Tarshis and The Nature of Fragile Things by Susan Meissner)

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of We Hope For Better Things from Amazon with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha.

Ashley Tolliver is a 29-year-old nurse-midwife who descends from a long line of women dedicated to caring for Appalachian mothers and babies.  Everyone in the small community of Brooksburg, Virginia, knows they can trust her to treat them with kindness, discretion, and skill.  Although Ashley longs to attend medical school, she's as loyal to her patients as they are to her.  They need her more than she needs an M.D.

In the six years Ashley has been working as a midwife, she's sure she's seen it all.  Then a young mother is abducted minutes after giving birth in Ashley's home office.  Bleeding profusely, the new mom needs to be in the hospital, as does her newborn.  Desperate to get the pair the emergency medical attention they need, Ashley vows to find them.

Ashley's in the middle of dealing with the crisis when Hunter McDermott shows up at her door.  A 32-year-old engineer from Arlington, he's searching for the Appalachian birth mother he never knew he had.  As she helps the handsome adoptee uncover the real story of his birth and ancestry, Ashley finds herself reconsidering both her professional goals and the possibilities of an unexpected romance.  Could everything she's ever wanted really be waiting for her just beyond the hills her family has always called home?  Does she have the courage to put her needs before her patients' for once?  Or will she forever be the woman who delivers children for others but never has a family of her own?

Ever since Call the Midwife aired, people have become fascinated with the profession—and by "people," I mean me.  I'm also drawn to stories about Appalachia, so The Mountain Midwife by Laurie Alice Eakes was kind of a no-brainer read for me.  Did I end up adoring the novel?  No.  Did I enjoy it overall?  I did.  Although I found Ashley's sometimes holier than thou attitude annoying, she's still a brave, dedicated, hardworking heroine for whom I had no trouble rooting.  The novel's setting intrigued me, of course, and I appreciated Eakes' sympathetic but balanced portrayal of Appalachia's hill people.  Plot-wise, The Mountain Midwife is engaging and compelling.  When I picked this book up, I didn't realize it was a Christian novel; thankfully, the book's religious elements are mostly subtle and not too preachy.  Just the way I prefer them.  On the whole, then, The Mountain Midwife worked for me as it's clean, uplifting, and entertaining.  I'll definitely be on the lookout for more from Eakes.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of The Midwife of Hope River by Patricia Harman as well as Call the Midwife, which is based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth)

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

After leaving the doomsday cult in which she's been brought up, 22-year-old Wynter Roth is learning how to navigate a strange new world populated with things she's always been taught were evil: television, rock music, skin-bearing clothes, etc.  Just as she's beginning to get a handle on things, a strange virus sweeps through the U.S.  The disease acts swiftly and causes a terrifying type of early-onset dementia, which leads to confusion, violence, and fear.

Even though Wynter was never a hard-core New Earth believer, she's not entirely surprised to discover the Prophet's revelations about the imminent collapse of society coming true.  The End he always raved on about is happening before her eyes.  And she's just as helpless as everyone else when it comes to stopping it.  Then Wynter's older sister, the Prophet's wife, shows up on Wynter's doorstep.  Sick with the virus, she shoves a carrier full of tissue samples into Wynter's hands, begging her to take them to a veterinarian in Colorado.  Even though the government is warning people to shelter in place, Wynter knows she has to get the samples to someone who can help eradicate the virus.  And she has to do it now.

As Wynter flees Chicago in a desperate race against time, she encounters Chase Miller, an ex-Marine who promises to help her travel across the country.  Wynter can't tell him what she has in her possession and Chase is keeping plenty of his own secrets.  Can Wynter trust her newfound road trip pal?  Can she get the samples to Colorado in time?  Can anyone save the population from descending into complete and utter madness?

Although we're in the middle (at the end?) of a global pandemic, I still enjoy reading novels like The Line Between by Tosca Lee.  After all, disaster/survival scenarios are way more fun to contemplate in fiction than to experience in real life!  I've read loads of these kinds of books and, honestly, The Line Between doesn't bring anything super unique to the table.  And yet, it's one of the most memorable apocalyptic novels I've read in some time.  Why?  Well, it features likable characters, an exciting plot, a timely premise, and solid writing.  What's different about it is that it's cleaner and more uplifting than most books of its ilk.  Yes, it deals with difficult, disturbing subjects.  However, it does so in a way that is thoughtful and faith-promoting without being cheesy or preachy.  While The Line Between is technically a Christian novel, it doesn't feel like one.  It does ruminate on religious subjects, which—as a person of faith—I found both refreshing and thought-provoking.  Statements like this one stayed with me long after I finished the book:  "It occurs to me that none of us should have entered these walls.  That we have never been 'in but not of the world' here but in another world completely.  That this was never faith, but seclusion in a place so safe that faith need never be tested even as we lived our lives of duality" (388).  This element of the story may turn non-religious readers off, but I hope it doesn't because The Line Between really is an engrossing, affecting read.  I loved it.

(Readalikes:  its sequel, A Single Light by Tosca Lee; also reminds me of Agnes at the End of the World by Kelly McWilliams and The Hallowed Ones and its sequel, The Outside, by Laura Bickle)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), violence, blood/gore, non-graphic references to disturbing subject matter (rape, sexual abuse, forced marriage, etc.), and scenes of peril

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of The Line Between from Changing Hands Bookstore with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha.