When her documentary becomes instrumental in freeing a man she feels was wrongfully convicted of murder, filmmaker Tessa Shepherd is thrilled.  She spent countless hours interviewing Oliver Barlow, even coming to think of him as a friend.  Tessa believes—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that he's innocent, a victim of bungled policework.  After fourteen years in prison, Oliver Barlow can finally return to his wife and kids.  And he has Tessa to thank.

Eighteen months later, Tessa is shocked when Oliver posts a video online.  In it, he confesses that he has kidnapped a young woman and plans to kill her.  It's not long before a stunned Tessa is being vilified by the outraged public, all of them wondering how she could have been hoodwinked by a monster like Oliver.  When he mentions her name in a subsequent video, Tessa feels not just trapped but also hunted.  After the will of her recently deceased mother reveals that Tessa and her sister have inherited an old family home they didn't know existed, she decides to hide at Fallbrook.  The crumbling mansion is the site of an old, mysterious tragedy.  Now, it's inhabited only by ghosts.  Its elderly caretakers know what really happened there, but they're not talking.  Tessa is determined to unearth Fallbrook's secrets, no matter what it takes.  What went on in the isolated home?  What are the caretakers hiding?  Tessa has always been adept at reading people, but she was oh so very wrong about Oliver ...

As you can tell from the plot summary, there's a lot going on in The Caretakers by Eliza Maxwell.  I went into the book thinking it would be an intriguing family drama with a little mystery thrown in along with a lot of creepy Gothic atmosphere.  So, I was a bit confused when the story seemed to center more on Tessa's investigation of Oliver Barlow.  Frankly, I cared little about anything happening in her present; my interest was in Fallbrook.  Unfortunately, Maxwell just couldn't seem to decide whether she was writing a cat-and-mouse mystery/thriller or a spooky drama/ghost story.  The mash-up didn't work for me.  The Caretakers ended up feeling unfocused, melodramatic, and weirdly paced.  I still whipped through the novel in a day because I wanted to see what would happen next, but overall, the tale felt dissatisfying to me.  This was one of my most highly anticipated novels of 2021, so I'm bummed.

(Readalikes:  The Gothic-y bits remind me of novels by Carol Goodman and Emily Carpenter)

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC of The Caretakers from the generous folks at Lake Union Publishing via those at NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

Jackie "Jax" Metcalf has always lived in the shadow of her older sister's illness.  She spent her childhood caught up in Lexie's manic episodes and depressive cycles, so focused on keeping her sister's moods balanced that she hardly had a life of her own.  Now a psychologist and a social worker, 28-year-old Jax knows the value of boundaries.  Living in Seattle helps her keep her distance—both physically and emotionally—from Lexie's constant drama.

When Jax finds a string of missed calls from Lexie on her phone, she figures her sister's off her meds again.  The truth is much worse: Lexie is dead.  Although she was an excellent swimmer, Lexie drowned in the spring-fed swimming pool at Sparrow Crest, the remote Vermont estate she inherited from her grandmother.  Shocked and grief-stricken, Jax returns to the place where she and Lexie spent every summer, only to find the house littered with research materials about the Metcalfs and Sparrow Crest.  Tempted to dismiss the project as another one of Lexie's many flights of fancy, Jax instead starts combing through the information, which reveals strange details about Gram's unique swimming pool.  The murky water always held a strange fascination for Lexie; it gives Jax the creeps.  As she's increasingly drawn to its eerie edges, the pool begins to reveal its chilling secrets, secrets it's kept for a very, very long time ...

Jennifer McMahon specializes in shuddery, suspenseful stories sure to send chills tingling down your spine.  Her newest, The Drowning Kind (available April 6, 2021), is no exception.  It offers an atmospheric Gothic setting, complex characters, and a riveting plot.  I read it fast and furious, totally sucked in by McMahon's masterful storytelling.  The ending surprised me and not necessarily in a good way.  I didn't love it.  Even though The Drowning Kind isn't my favorite of this author's novels, it's still an engrossing, entertaining read.  If you like shivery ghost stories, definitely add this one to your TBR list.  

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of other books by Jennifer McMahon as well as those by Carol Goodman and Emily Carpenter)

Minnie Miranda's single mother—an Argentine-American with no close family—labors tirelessly to support her and her two younger sisters.  Mamá is always working overtime at her menial jobs, leaving Minnie in charge.  When she is in their drafty basement apartment, Mamá is exhausted and cranky.  Despite all her hours at work, the fridge is never full, Minnie's sisters have few toys, and all of them make do with embarrassing castoff clothing.  Although the 12-year-old knows she should be grateful just to have a roof over her head, Minnie's tired of being poor, frustrated with all of her grown-up responsibilities, and especially weary of her mother's constant warnings to never let outsiders into their lives.  Mamá insists they don't need anyone's help with anything.  Minnie's not so sure.

Despite the endless hours she works, Mamá always comes home in the evenings to say goodnight to her girls.  When she fails to appear one night, Minnie hopes Mamá has just been unable to get away.  With no word from her, however, Minnie begins to fear the worst: she's been detained by ICE.  Knowing she can't confide in anyone—not even a surprising new school friend—she carries on as best she knows how, trying to keep her sisters calm, fed, and entertained.  Nothing seems to go her away, although somehow, the girls seem to be getting a bit of help from the Peques, the Argentine fairies Minnie's younger sisters still believe in.

Even the Peques can't help with Minnie's upcoming audition for Peter Pan.  Minnie knows a penniless Latinx girl has no real hope of playing Wendy, but she's desperate to try for the part.  Mamá knows how important the audition is to Minnie and promised to be there.  Is she really going to miss it?  If she could be there, Minnie knows she would be.  What has happened to Mamá?  She can't conceal her family's situation for much longer, but her mother has always insisted strangers can't be trusted.  What is Minnie to do? 

Let's be honest here, the cover of On These Magic Shores by Argentine-American Yamile Saied Méndez is...not great.  Thank goodness it came to my attention because of The Whitney Awards.  Had I seen the book in a library or bookstore, I never would have picked it up.  And that would have been a shame because there's a lot to like about this #OwnVoices middle grade novel.  It touches on a lot of tough issues—racism, poverty, fear of deportation, children with too much responsibility, etc.—in a way that is eye-opening but also approachable.  As Minnie struggles, she learns the value of friendship, forgiveness, asking for help when you need it, and being grateful for what you have even if it's not a lot.  Some of the lessons are more subtle than others, but they're all there.  Although the plot of On These Magic Shores isn't always logical, the transitions between scenes not always smooth, and the prose a little rough in places, overall the story is engaging and compelling with enough going on to keep me turning pages.  The magical realism isn't my favorite element of this novel, but it worked well enough.  Character-wise, Minnie and her sisters are sympathetic heroines.  Minnie's prickly personality makes her difficult to like, especially when she acts like a victim-y brat.  She does grow and change because of her struggles, but she's still a bit hard to take.  Others act inconsistently (Maverick, for instance), but they're still a likable lot overall.  There are enough issues with On These Magic Shores that I didn't end up loving it.  However, it is an eye-opening, empowering, empathy-inducing story.  I liked it overall.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Land of the Cranes by Aida Salazar and Efrén Divided by Ernesto Cisneros)

Every child needs a fierce protector.  Ten-year-old Della has her older sister, Suki.  It was Suki who cared for her while their mother cooked meth; Suki who watched out for her when their mom went to prison, leaving the girls in the care of her abusive boyfriend; Suki who got the evidence that convicted him for molesting Della; and Suki who still shields her even though the sisters are finally safe with Francine, their forthright but loving foster mother.  It's only now that Della is beginning to realize that while she's always had Suki as her older, wiser guard, Suki's never really had anyone to fulfill that role.  And she's needed a protector.  Desperately.  When Suki tries to take her own life, Della discovers just how broken her she-wolf sister really is.  Can Della find a way to nurture her sister the way Suki has always done for Della?  Will the two ever find the healing they so need and deserve?

As you can no doubt tell, Fighting Words by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley is a raw, gut punch of a novel.  While it's not graphic, it's still honest and hard-hitting.  The thing that saves it from being unrelentingly grim is our heroine, Della.  She's tough, irrepressible, and hilarious.  Her voice is absolutely pitch-perfect.  For all these reasons, it's impossible not to root for her and Suki.  While Fighting Words is about so many things—sexual abuse, consent, bravery, resilience, etc.—it's really about two sisters and their unbreakable bond.  Despite its touch subject matter, I loved this beautiful, empowering novel.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a bit of Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson)

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

Fifteen years ago, three little girls were walking to school.  One of them was in a terrible accident that left her with a Traumatic Brain Injury that affects her memory and speech.  Living in an institution, Kitty James has trouble communicating, but that doesn't mean she doesn't remember the accident, at least on some level.  Alison Baker, Kitty's half-sister, has also never quite recovered from the trauma of that long-ago day.  She has no real life and relies on cutting herself in order to feel anything.  

With little money in the bank, Alison reluctantly decides to accept a job as an artist-in-residence at an open prison outside of London.  She's assigned to teach art to a select group of inmates.  Seems simple enough.  Then, she begins receiving threatening notes at work.  When her classroom erupts in violence, Alison becomes completely unsettled.  Someone is purposely tormenting her, someone who knows what really happened the day of Kitty's accident.  Alison's kept her secrets carefully guarded for over a decade, but now the truth will out ...

On its surface, Blood Sisters by Jane Corry seems like the kind of tense psychological thriller I enjoy.  Unfortunately, I had a big problem with the characters in this novel.  They're not at all likable.  Alison is cold, immature, and melodramatic, all of which made it difficult to feel connected to her.  The only cast member I felt anything for was Alison's poor mum.  Corry's prose is awkward as well.  As far as plot goes, Blood Sisters kept my attention, although I saw some of the twists coming.  Many of the situations seem contrived and the Big Reveals at the end drove me crazy, justifying my dislike and distrust of a certain character even more.  Not surprisingly, Blood Sisters is a sad, depressing story.  All of these elements combined to make the novel a rather unpleasant read.  So, while I liked the premise, I just didn't love this book.  Bummer.  

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of other the-past-comes-calling psychological thrillers, although no specific titles are coming to mind)

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

Police officer Michaela "Mickey" Fitzpatrick is well-acquainted with the toll opioid addiction takes on not just its victims but also on their families and communities.  Abandoned by their junkie parents, she and her sister, Kacey, were left to be raised by their cruel, resentful grandmother.  Now 33, Mickey works a high crime beat in Kensington, one of the worst neighborhoods in Philadelphia.  Not only is she on the lookout for dangerous behavior, but she keeps her eyes constantly peeled for Kacey.  An addict who pays for her habit by turning tricks, Kacey no longer keeps in touch with her sister.  Which doesn't stop Mickey from worrying about her every day.

Mickey's used to not seeing her sister for weeks on end, but when a spate of murders are committed against street women in Kensington and Kacey is nowhere to be found, Mickey starts to fear the worst.  Mickey's frantic search for both the killer and her sister becomes a dangerous obsession that puts her right in the path of a vicious murderer.  No matter the cost, Mickey refuses to back down.  She knows all too well how dispensable street junkies are—she won't let her sister and others like her slip through the cracks.  Even if it means risking everything to save Kacey.

As you can imagine, Long Bright River by Liz Moore is not an easy read.  Not at all.  It's raw and disturbing, heartbreaking and gut-wrenching.  It's also important and impactful.  Moore has spent a lot of time in Kensington and it shows.  The story rings with authenticity.  While it tells a difficult tale, the novel is a heartfelt one, woven through with sensitivity and sympathy.  Anyone who's dealt with a family member in the throes of addiction will identify with Mickey's plight.  Told in chapters alternating between the past and present, Long Bright River is not just a gripping thriller, but also an engrossing family drama, which gives the story a layered depth that makes it more than just a murder mystery.  Relevant and riveting, it's a hard but unforgettable read.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Before I Let You Go by Kelly Rimmer, Heroine by Mindy McGinnis, and the Bell Elkins series by Julia Keller)

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

Five hundred years ago, the Great Waves destroyed the known world, burying its gleaming cities under fathoms of water.  The rusty ruins beckon to 17-year-old orphan Tempest "Tempe" Alerin, who scavenges them every day hoping to find treasures to sell.  She's been scrimping and saving her Notes ever since her older sister, Elysea, drowned two years ago.  When she finally has enough currency, she can exchange it for a wondrous gift—scientists will bring her dead sibling back to life for 24 hours.  That's all Tempe needs.  Five years ago, Elysea caused the death of their parents.  Tempe will do anything do find out why.

Reviving the dead is a carefully-controlled process, one that goes awry right from the start.  First, Elysea claims she had nothing to do with their parents' deaths.  Then, she asserts that they may still be alive.  In addition, Elysea doesn't want to spend her 24 hours of life sitting around in a boring research facility.  When the sisters find a way to escape their confines, 19-year-old Lor Ritter—the son of the scientist who invented the revival process—is charged with bringing them back.  Or else.  What ensues is a desperate race against time with Tempe and Elysea hunting for answers, with Lor in hot pursuit.  The closer the sisters get to uncovering the secrets of their watery home, the more dangerous their quest gets.  Can they find the answers they seek?  Or will both of them die trying?  

Watery dystopian worlds always fascinate me, so the setting of The Vanishing Deep by Astrid Scholte definitely got my attention.  While not everything about the world made sense, it still created an intriguing backdrop for this exciting, action-packed ecological thriller.  I liked the characters at the story's center.  It was easy to empathize with them and root for their success.  As far as plot goes, I saw the Big Reveal coming, but there were other twists that caught me by surprise.  The ending was disappointing, which made the novel feel less than satisfying.  Overall, then, I didn't love The Vanishing Deep.  It did keep me turning pages, though, and I liked it for the most part.  

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a little of Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi)

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Olive and Ami Torres might be identical twins, but they're nothing alike.  Especially when it comes to luck.  Ami wins every contest she enters.  Olive has her clumsiest, most embarrassing moments broadcast on YouTube and national television.  She's not bitter.  It's just a fact of life that Ami's life moves seamlessly forward while Ollie gets struck by lightning (literally).  She shouldn't be too surprised, then, by her present circumstances.  As the maid-of-honor at Ami's posh but almost cost-free wedding, Olive is stuffed into an atrocious, too small gown, which is not making it any easier to make nice with her archnemesis, Ethan Thomas, who is—naturally—the best man.  

Shockingly, Olive's luck starts to change when all the guests at the wedding dinner get food poisoning from the discount seafood buffet except for her.  From her sickbed, Ami insists Olive take the fabulous, free honeymoon vacation Ami won for herself and her new husband.  All Olive has to do to take advantage of a relaxing week in Hawaii is pretend to be newly married to the only other person who isn't sick—Ethan.  She'll keep up the pretense when necessary, then dump him on a beach somewhere and enjoy her vacation solo.  Easy peasy.  There's only one problem—the more time Olive spends in paradise with Ethan, the more she doesn't want to leave.  Him.  Will the unluckiest girl in the world find a way to screw up what's starting to feel like the best thing that's ever happened to her?  Or has fate finally done her a solid?  

From its bright, colorful cover to its engaging, zany plot to its likable characters and humorous story situations, The Unhoneymooners by Christina Lauren is a fun read.  It's upbeat, funny, swoony, and just all kinds of enjoyable.  I definitely would have preferred a PG-13 version, but still, this is a witty, heartfelt novel that kept me royally entertained.  It's almost universally loved by readers/reviewers and it's easy to see why.  Next time I'm looking for a diverting rom-com, I'll keep this writing duo in mind.

(Readalikes:  Hm, I can't think of anything.  Can you?)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (a half-dozen F-bombs, plus milder expletives), innuendo, and sexual content

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Ever since her mother's marriage and the subsequent birth of her baby brothers, Hazel Box has been feeling like the odd woman out.  With all of her emotions boiling inside her, she needs to do something before she erupts.  When she gets a surprise message on social media from Eve Warrington, a sophisticated teen who claims to be Hazel's half-sister, it feels like perfect timing.  Even better, Eve is planning to spend two weeks in Maine with their father and wants Hazel to come along.  The getaway is just the something Hazel has been waiting for—not only will she get a break from her family, but she'll have the chance to get to know her father and her half-sister at the same time.  What could possibly go wrong?  

I'm a fan of novels about family members finding each other, so I jumped at the chance to read That Summer in Maine by Brianna Wolfson.  It sounded like a cute, upbeat sister story that would be both entertaining and poignant.  Turns out, less than half of the novel focuses on Hazel and Eve.  The first part of the story concerns the girls' mothers and how they both fall in love with the same man, get pregnant, and learn how to live with the consequences.  Since the women's stories are nothing unique or all that interesting, the focus on them makes the first part of the book drag on and on.  The action picks up when the camera's eye turns back on the girls.  Although their half of the novel is more engaging, it's still not super compelling.  The plot flip-flops here, there, and everywhere without going much of anywhere.  It doesn't help that the characters are irritating—the mothers are needy, the girls are brats, and the dad is pretty darn clueless—and many of their decisions make no sense at all.  Wolfson's tell-not-show prose just makes everything worse.  For all these reasons, I put That Summer in Maine down several times.  In the end, though, I decided to stick it out.  Why?  I really don't know because this novel drove me crazy!  I like its premise, its tranquil cover, and its out-of-the-way setting.  Other than that?  Meh.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a little of Far From the Tree by Robin Benway)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (a dozen or so F-bombs, plus milder invectives), depictions of underage drinking, and mild sexual content/innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC of That Summer in Maine from the generous folks at Harlequin in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Although they're as different as three women can be, Liza, Maggie, and Tricia have always formed a tight trio.  The Sweeney Sisters—daughters of the universally-beloved literary lion, Bill Sweeney—were a familiar sight around the small, seaside town of Southport, Connecticut, where they grew up.  Now that they're adults, the women have spread their wings, with Tricia working as a hotshot lawyer in Manhattan, Maggie attempting to make ends meet as an artist-in-residence in western Connecticut, and Liza trying to balance marriage, motherhood, and ownership of a successful Southport art gallery.  Tension and distance have strained relationships between the sisters.  When their father dies unexpectedly, the threesome is reunited in their hometown for a raucous goodbye party and the reading of Bill's will. 

The presence of a mystery woman at Bill's wake causes some confusion, then utter shock.  Unbeknownst to Liza, Maggie, and Tricia, their father had an affair with a neighbor that resulted in another Sweeney Sister.  Serena Tucker, a 38-year-old investigative journalist, grew up next door to her half-sisters without any of the girls knowing they were related.  Until a DNA test Serena took six months ago revealed the truth.  Suspicious of Serena's timing, the original Sweeney Sisters aren't sure what to think of the new addition.  What does the woman want from them?  Is she after an inheritance?  Or does she want the memoir Bill was reportedly writing, the juicy tell-all that could expose all the family secrets and make its finder a very wealthy woman?  As the four women hunt for the manuscript together, they will make some surprising discoveries about each other, their father, and what family and sisterhood really mean.  

I love books involving family secrets, family history, and DNA discoveries, so I was excited to give The Sweeney Sisters by Lian Dolan a go.  While I didn't end up absolutely loving the novel, I did enjoy it.  This is a character-driven story, with four interesting women at its heart.  Each is well-crafted, empathetic, and admirable in her own way.  I enjoyed reading about all of them.  There's not a lot of action in The Sweeney Sisters, but there was enough to keep me turning pages.  In the end, I found this tale to be a pleasant, funny, and entertaining read, even if I didn't fall head-over-heels in love with it.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of The Last Chance Matinee by Mariah Stewart and The Sisters Heminway by Annie England Noblin)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (a handful of F-bombs, plus milder expletives) and mild sexual content

To the FTC, with love:  I received an ARC of The Sweeney Sisters from the generous folks at William Morrow (an imprint of HarperCollins).  Thank you!

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Twenty years separate sisters Adele Descaro and Justine Somersby.  Although they live near each other and have communicated over the years about their parents' declining health, the two have never been close.  Now that their mother has died, the women find they have more in common than they ever have before.  Both are at a crossroads in their lives, which has left each of them anxious, worried, and emotionally at sea.  Having been their mother's primary caregiver for the last eight years, 32-year-old Adele has to decide what to do about a job, the graduate education she abandoned in order to help at home, and the surprising demands of the man who's been her gentle, patient best friend throughout her life.  When Justine discovers her husband of 30 years has been cheating on her, she's devastated.  Divorcing the only man she's ever loved is heartbreaking, but it's also given her the freedom she never knew she wanted.  As she picks up the pieces of her shattered life, Justine finds herself relying more and more on her little sister.  While the sisters find their way back to each other and themselves, they experience healing along with new problems.  Will their new-found closeness bring them together or tear them even more apart?  

I've read a number of books by the prolific Robyn Carr, mostly her small-town romance novels set in Grace Valley and Virgin River.  What I love most about Carr is that her warm, genuine nature shines through in both the towns and the characters she creates.  Her settings are inviting, her story people authentic, and her writing upbeat, even when discussing tough subjects.  Although Carr's newest women's fiction effort, Sunrise on Half Moon Bay, is not my favorite of her many novels, it still showcases the trademarks I just mentioned.  While not as developed as Grace Valley and Virgin River, Half Moon Bay comes off as a charming little town full of cheerful, concerned folks.  Adele drove me crazy with her flakiness and fickleness, it's true.  Still, I enjoyed seeing the relationship between her and Justine (whom I found much easier to identify with) evolve in a realistic way.  Carr does tackle some difficult subjects in Sunrise on Half Moon Bay, but overall this is an easy, uplifting read with the kind of guaranteed HEA Carr does so well.  I didn't love her newest as I have some of her older novels, but Carr has a special place in my heart and I'll always be willing to read whatever she writes.  

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of other novels by Carr as well as those by Kristan Higgins)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (no F-bombs), violence, disturbing subject matter, and sexual content (only one scene, but it's fairly detailed)

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC of Sunrise on Half Moon Bay from the generous folks at Harlequin in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Ever since the death of his wife, Rafe Torres has been disintegrating.  Inconsolable, he drinks too much, gambles too much, owes too much and parents too little.  His four daughters have had it with picking up the pieces after their dad's many mess-ups.  Desperate for escape, they try running away, only to be caught by a despondent Rafe who promises to do better.  Not long after the sisters' botched escape, Ana plunges to her death while sneaking out her bedroom window.  Her death drives Rafe deeper into despair, leaving Iridian, Jessica, and Rosa to fend for themselves. 

A year after Ana dies, the three Torres girls are living a chaotic, feral existence in a house that feels both empty and oppressive with the weight of their grief.  Seventeen-year-old Iridian is biding her time working a part-time job and dating Ana's abusive ex-boyfriend.  Iridian—a 16-year-old dreamer—reads incessantly and pours her heart out in her journal.  An old soul, 13-year-old Rosa roams the city at night, talking to birds and searching for an escaped zoo animal.  Their separate orbits collide when each of them notices strange things happening inside their home.  They hear Ana's laughter whispering through the halls, see her handwriting appearing on the walls, and smell a familiar scent lingering in the air.  Could it be Ana's ghost trying to convey a message to her sisters?  What is it she's trying to tell them?  As the girls puzzle out the clues together, they finally feel a smidgeon of hope that might just show them the way out of the deep, dark well of their grief.

I'm not sure what to say about Tigers, Not Daughters by Samantha Mabry except that it's a strange, strange novel.  With its odd combination of realistic fiction, magical realism, and horror, it seems a little confused about its own identity.  Although Tigers, Not Daughters is a quick read, the story doesn't offer much in the way of plot.  Made up of vignettes told from each sister's perspective, it never feels very cohesive.  In addition, the vibe of this novel is unrelentingly sad, depressing, angry, and just ... weird.  Its depiction of the overwhelming and sometimes destructive nature of grief is on point, but the rest of the story didn't really come together for me.  I wasn't sorry to see it end.

(Readalikes:  Hm, I can't really think of a comparable title.  You?)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for strong language, violence, sexual content, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Tigers, Not Daughters from the generous folks at Algonquin in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

You probably thought you were done with BBB book reviews until 2020.  No such luck!  I stayed up way too late last night/this morning to finish How to Walk Away by Katherine Center.  Her newest, Things You Save in a Fire, was one of my favorite reads of 2019, so now I'm reading her backlist.  Isn't it great when you find a new author to love and they've got a bunch of already-written books for you to explore?  

How to Walk Away concerns Margaret Jacobsen, a 28-year-old Texan on the cusp of making all her dreams come true.  With the ink still drying on her shiny new MBA, she's poised to land a dream job.  She's purchased a new condo and is waiting patiently for the marriage proposal she knows is coming from her boyfriend, Chip.  Then, irony of ironies, the woman who hates to fly is involved in a small plane crash that leaves her with third-degree burns on her upper body and paralysis below the knees.  Devastated, but determined, she plans to make a quick recovery, then resume the life-of-dreams she knows is still possible.

As Margaret struggles with treatments, especially physical therapy under the merciless hand of Ian Moffat, she's plagued by feelings of doubt, depression, and grief.  While everything in her perfect Before life slowly falls apart, leaving only her bleak Now, Margaret can't even think about how things might look After.  Soon, the only bright spots in her day are visits from her long-estranged sister and her Scottish PT who never cracks a smile.  As the weeks wear on, Margaret starts to understand that she may never walk again.  Also that her crush on Ian remains quite unrequited.  With nothing else to look forward to in life, what is Margaret going to do?  Is hope another Before thing that has deserted Margaret?  Will she find something to live for or will she keep her date with her suicide calendar?

Despite its grim subject matter, How to Walk Away is actually a warm, humorous, upbeat book.  Margaret's voice is engaging, even while she deals with the terror of her new normal.  She's self-deprecating and funny, but also brave, loyal, and resolute.  It's impossible not to root for her.  The love story at the center of the novel is sweet.  With its themes of appreciating what you can do, serving others as a way to steer your focus away from yourself, and looking to the future—however bleak it might seem—with hope and courage, How to Walk Away is an empowering novel that's entertaining, fun, and moving.  I loved it.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Me Before You by Jojo Moyes)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language, violence, and mild sexual content

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Thirty years ago, a struggling young mother was arrested and sent to jail.  She had no choice but to surrender both of her girls—4-year-old Brooke and 6-month-old Natalie—to the state.  Believing they would be kept together, Jennifer Walker served her time knowing—hoping—that her daughters would have a better life without her.

Raised by an adoptive family, Natalie, now 35, is happily married with two children of her own.  She runs a small catering business out of her home.  Growing up in foster care took its toll on Brooke.  At 39, she's a cocktail waitress whose only significant relationship is with a married man.  The sisters haven't seen each other since they were separated from each other as children; until very recently, in fact, Natalie had no idea Brooke existed.  Now that she does know, she can't stop herself from reaching out.  After that?  Natalie wants them both to seek out their birth mother.  What happens when the two women finally meet?  Will Brooke help Natalie find Jennifer?  What will happen if they do?

Somewhere Out There by Amy Hatvany is a poignant, compelling story about two women's journeys to reacquaint themselves with each other and, ultimately, rediscover themselves.  While there's nothing really original or memorable about them as characters or about their story, the novel is still engrossing.  I can't say I loved it, but overall, it made for a decent read.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a little of Far From the Tree by Robin Benway)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language, violence, sexual content, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Tiny River Valley, Washington, is nestled between the ocean and Olympic National Forest, the last hamlet of civilization before the deep, impenetrable woods take over.  When a young, feral girl walks out of the trees, Police Chief Ellie Barton is immediately drawn to the obviously traumatized child.  Although she's desperate to find the girl's identity, she soon realizes she's out of her league.  More like a wild animal than a human, the child seems unreachable.  Ferreting out her secrets will require more patience and skill than Ellie possesses.  It's time to call in a professional; her younger sister just happens to be one.

After a terrible tragedy very publicly calls into question Julia Cates' abilities as a psychiatrist, leaving her career in ruins, the 35-year-old is not quite sure how to recover.  When she receives a frantic call from her sister begging her to come back to River Valley, Julia jumps at the opportunity.  Just like Ellie, she becomes entranced with the enigmatic girl she dubs Alice.  As Julia slowly earns Alice's trust, the child's horrifying story starts to trickle out.  While Julia desires only to protect her young client, she's consumed by difficult questions.  What really happened to Alice?  How can Julia help her heal from the terror she's experienced in her short life?  And, most disturbing of all, should she be returned to her family?  Childless Julia can't bear the thought of letting Alice go.  What will happen to both of them when push comes to shove?

The topic of feral children fascinates me, so I couldn't resist picking up Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah.  The premise is intriguing, the characters are engaging, the plot is surprising, and Hannah's prose is always on par.  While there are a few story elements that struck me as far-fetched, overall I really enjoyed Magic Hour.  It's engrossing and moving, which makes it a story that has stayed in my mind even though I read it back in August.  I've been a big Kristin Hannah fan since reading and loving The Nightingale and The Great Alone and I definitely intend to keep exploring her backlist, especially if it yields more gems like this one. 

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Leave No Trace by Mindy Mejia and If You Find Me by Emily Murdoch)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (a few F-bombs, plus milder expletives), violence, mild sexual content, and disturbing subject matter

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