(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Isabelle McAllister and Dorrie Curtis aren't family, nor are they exactly bosom buddies.  But, when the 89-year-old widow finds herself in need of a favor—a very big favor—Dorrie's the only person she can think of to ask.  Despite their differences, the two women have grown close over the years and yet, there's plenty they don't know about each other.  Isabelle's not sure she's ready to spill all her secrets; still, she knows she can't do what she needs to do without Dorrie by her side.  

Dorrie's grown fond of Isabelle during the years she's been styling the old woman's hair.  Still, Dorrie's  dumbfounded by her client's strange request.  She knows Isabelle's too elderly to drive herself from their home in Texas all the way to Cincinatti.  She also knows she'd do anything for Miss Isabelle, even if the woman won't divulge the reason for the trip.  What Dorrie doesn't know is why Isabelle chose her for this task, or what awaits them in Ohio.  Truth is, it doesn't matter.  Dorrie could use a little vacay—all that time on the road will give her time to ponder her own troubles, while learning more about the enigmatic Isabelle McAllister.

The women make a strange pair—Isabelle's an elderly white widow, Dorrie's a black, single mom in her 30s.  But, as the pair drive across the country, they discover they have more in common than not.  And, as Dorrie hears the story of Isabelle's forbidden romance with the son of her family's black housekeeper during the early 1940s in a Kentucky town African-Americans weren't even allowed to step foot in after dark, she realizes that a little of Isabelle's courage might be just the thing she needs to conquer her own fears.  

One glance at the cover of Calling Me Home, a debut novel by Julie Kibler, is all it took to convince me I needed to read this book.  The plot summary just intrigued me more.  It was the author's bio, though, that really sealed the deal.  Why?  Because, it explains that Isabelle's story grew out of a bit of Kibler family lore.  How irresistible is that?  Very.  Even better, Calling Me Home lives up to its gorgeous cover and beguiling premise.  It's warm, tender, vibrant, heart-breaking—everything a great story should be.  Some of the plot "surprises" weren't all that surprising but still, this novel made me laugh, made me think, made me curse, made me cry.  I loved it.    

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a little of The Help by Kathryn Stockett and Jericho Walls by Kristi Collier)

Grade:  A-

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  PG-13 for language (no F-bombs), racial epithets, violence, and mild sexual content 

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

(Note:  While this review will not contain spoilers for The Last Echo, it may inadvertently spoil plot surprises from earlier Body Finder books.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

Violet Ambrose is used to keeping her special ability to match the "echoes" of a dead person and his/her killer under wraps.  So, she's having a little trouble with the whole collaboration thing.  Even among the other "special" teenagers who make up the investigation team of which Violet's now a part, she feels like a freak.  The others all have their own brand of psychic power, but no one can do what she can.  And yet, Violet wishes there was more she could do, something to stop murderers before they act, instead of just helping to catch them afterward.

There's one part of working with a team that's really messing with her ability to concentrate on the task—or crime—at hand.  One person, actually:  Rafe.  Violet's felt a connection with the gorgeous bad boy ever since they met.  He drives her crazy and yet, there's a literal spark that ignites whenever they're together.  Violet's boyfriend, Jay Heaton, isn't too thrilled about the guy either.  Which makes it all very awkward and confusing and ... distracting.

Violet can't afford to be focused on anything but the case she's investigating.  A serial killer, dubbed "The Collector," is murdering college girls in the Seattle area.  With no leads for the police to follow, it's up to Violet and her team to find out who's behind the killings.  But, every step she takes toward the murderer brings her closer to a cold-blooded monster—one who thinks Violet Ambrose will make a perfect addition to his grisly collection.  Can she find him before he finds her?  

When I read the first of Kimberly Derting's Body Finder books, I could hardly contain my excitement for this thrilling new series.  The second installment, however, dampened my enthusiasm quite a bit.  With The Last Echo, the third book, I'm still feeling ... lukewarm.  The idea that anyone who kills—whether in the line of duty, while hunting animals, on accident, or intentionally—forever carries with them imprints of their victims still fascinates me.  It's a unique concept and, hands down, my favorite part about this series.  The rest of it is starting too feel stale, like every other teenager-with-supernatural-powers-police-procedural.  Sometimes I can forgive a same ole, same ole story if I absolutely adore the characters, but that's just not the case here.  Still, I have to give Derting credit for writing fast-paced, entertaining mysteries, even if they're far-fetched and none too original.  

(Readalikes:  Other books in the Body Finder [The Body Finder; Desires of the Dead; Dead Silence) series by Kimberly Derting; also the Wake trilogy [Wake; Fade; Gone] by Lisa McMann)

Grade:  C+

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  R for strong language (a few F-bombs, plus milder invectives), violence and sexual innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

(Image from TLC Book Tours)

In California's Sacramento Valley, in the middle of an olive tree orchard, sits an old adobe farmhouse.  Inside, live five generations of Keller women, all firstborn children, all tied to the land where long ago, their Australian ancestor planted his first olive tree.  At 112, Anna Keller is the second-oldest person in the world.  She looks 30 years younger and is often assumed to be her daughter's sister.  Bets Wallace, Anna's daughter, doesn't look a day over 60, although she's 89.  Popping a handful of Vicodin every day for a painful limp caused by an airplane crash, Bets' daughter, Callie Rodgers, is an unhappy woman who owns a gift shop that's slowly going bankrupt.  She may be the only woman in the house who actually looks every day of her 65 years.  Her daughter, 42-year-old Deb Ripplinger, is at least partly responsible for Callie's soured view on life—Deb's in prison for killing her husband 20 years ago.  And then, there's Erin, a 24-year-old opera singer who's come home with a shock for her "grandmas": she's pregnant with the baby of a married man.  

As if the women don't have quite enough problems to keep them busy, a geneticist is sniffing around their gene pool, determined to discover the secret to the family's remarkable longevity.  Dr. Hashmi's nice enough, but his pointed questions and probing research could reveal long-held family secrets the women would like to keep hidden.  Even from each other.  Especially from each other.  As truths threaten to come to light, each of the women must decide if coming clean is really worth the risk.  The bond between them has always been as fragile as it is strong—can their love hold them together in the wake of shocking revelations?  Or will their devastating secrets be the thing to drive five generations of Keller women apart?  

You may have noticed that I'm a sucker for a good family saga.  The key word here being good.  I've read too many lately that go on and on with the family part, forgetting that "saga" means story.  In other words, something needs to happen, there has to be a plot.  The main problem with The Roots of the Olive Tree, a debut novel by Courtney Miller Santo, is that it has none.  There's nothing really driving the novel forward.  The book has interesting (although interchangeable and not all that likable) characters, yes.  Intriguing plot lines, also yes.  Unifying plotline to bring it all together?  Nope.  Which means that, although Santo's prose flows along nicely enough, her first novel's, well, dull.  I had enough interest in the Kellers to keep reading their story, but I was also happy for it to end so I could move on to something else.  Although it had great potential, it just fell flat for me.  And I so, so wanted to love it.  Oh well.  

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a little of The Truth About Love & Lightning and Little Black Dress, both by Susan McBride)

Grade:  C

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  R for strong language (a few F-bombs, plus milder invectives) and some sexual content