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There's no doubt that Winifred Allen needs a vacation.  Grieving both the loss of her brother and the end of her marriage, the 39-year-old could use a break.  An extreme river rafting adventure isn't quite what she had in mind, but when her BFFs suggest it for an upcoming girl's trip, Wini can't talk her way out of going.  Reluctantly, she joins her three besties as they head into Maine's Allagash Wilderness.  

Wini's concern grows when she meets the river guide, 20-year-old college student Rory Ekhart.  He's nice to look at, sure, but does he know what he's doing?  It's not long before they find out.  A freak accident leaves the group stranded in the woods.  Soon, they're struggling to survive—against nature, each other, and a host of other dangers lurking in the wilderness.  Can they all make it out alive?  Or will their gal pal adventure mean the end of their friendship forever?

I enjoy a good man vs. nature survival story where ordinary people have to dig deep for the will to survive an extraordinary situation.  The River at Night, a debut novel by Erica Ferencik, tells just such a story.  Naturally, it's an exciting, fast-paced adventure tale full of twists and turns, danger and drama.  Yes, it's far-fetched—I mean, would a group of inexperienced middle-aged women really sign up for an extreme, week-long outdoor adventure led by a kid they know little about?  And what is the likelihood that everything would go wrong pretty much right from the start?  Well, it makes for a thrilling story, anyway.  In the end, I didn't love The River at Night, but it did keep me engrossed and guessing—two hallmarks of a good, gripping page turner.   

(Readalikes: I can't think of any specific books, but The River at Night did remind me of the movie The River Wild)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language, violence, blood/gore, and sexual content

To the FTC, with love: I received an e-ARC of The River at Night from the generous folks at Scout Press/Simon and Schuster via those at Wunderkind PR and NetGalley.  Thank you!  

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Brett has been entranced with Charlie Moss ever since she met him as an 18-year-old college student.  Even now, after marriage and the birth of their first child, she's still swayed by his magnetic charm.  His blasé attitude and perpetual joblessness, however, are becoming a bit of a problem.  Struggling to hold their little family together, Brett is at the end of her rope.  She doesn't want to hurt Charlie, but it might be time to call it quits.  For her sake and for that of 15 month-old Sarah.

Then, the unthinkable happens.  Charlie is murdered, his throat gruesomely slit on the back deck of the Moss' seaside Cape Cod cottage.  Wracked with grief, Brett struggles to understand what has happened.  Who could have done such a heinous deed?  The most obvious suspect is Charlie's mentally unstable brother, Eli, who had shown up unexpectedly the day before.  But he's not the only one with motive, opportunity.  Was Charlie killed by a passing stranger?  Or someone he knew?  His own brother, perhaps?  As the investigation wears on, Brett will have to face some shocking truths—about her marriage, her family, and herself.

Although The Last September by Nina de Gramont is a murder mystery, it's really more of a family drama than anything else.  Its focus remains on the characters and their relationships, not the crime.  Brett, Charlie, Eli, and the rest are complex story people.  All realistically flawed, only Eli is truly sympathetic.  Neither Brett nor Charlie are super likable, both being fickle and selfish.  Overall, the novel is depressing, but it's also compelling enough that I wanted to know what really happened to Charlie.  The Last September is a satisfying read, in the end, just not a super memorable one.

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

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language, violence, and sexual content

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

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When the dead body of an 11-year-old boy is found on the beach in the sleepy, seaside hamlet of Broadchurch, it rocks the small Dorset community to its core.  Danny Latimer had grown up in the town, was well known by many.  Did he purposely jump off the cliffs in order to end his own life?  Did he fall?  Was he pushed?  These are the questions that haunt Detective Sergeant Ellie Miller.  For her, it's a very personal case—Danny was her son's best friend.  Ellie knows the Latimers well.  Their grief pierces her to the soul.

Ellie's keen to solve the case, knowing closure will do the Latimers a world of good.  She's not thrilled, however, when a brusque outsider—Detective Inspector Alec Hardy—is brought in to help the local police investigate Danny's death.  Not only does DI Hardy harbor his own secrets, but he's certain the good folks of Broadchurch keep plenty of their own.  He's not wrong.  As the detectives pummel Ellie's friends, neighbors, and acquaintances for answers, she's shocked by what they uncover.  Someone killed Danny.  Someone from Broadchurch.  Who would do such a thing?  And why?  As the Latimers slowly fall apart, it's up to Ellie—their friend and confidante—to figure out what really happened to their little boy.  The truth will bring an already outraged town to its knees.  It always does when the monster is one of your own ...

You may have heard of Broadchurch, a British crime drama that ran on ITV for three seasons starting in 2013.  Starring David Tennant (best known as the Tenth Doctor on Doctor Who) as DI Hardy and Olivia Colman as Ellie, the series is available to view on Netflix.  Interestingly, Broadchurch the show is not based on Broadchurch the novel, but the other way around.  This is so odd because, to me, the latter is much better than the former.  Perhaps this simply has to do with my preference for print over film, but Broadchurch by Erin Kelly tells a much fuller story than the t.v. version.  In fact, if I hadn't read the book first I think I would have been a bit lost watching the series as its filmed in an artsy way with a choppy storyline and lots of moody, melodramatic scenes that offer more in the way of creativity than clarity.   Still, both versions are complex, compelling, and well-plotted.  The twists mostly caught me off-guard.  As did the identity of the murderer.  I did not see it coming at all.  While I always like a small-town-with-big-secrets story, some are more disturbing than others.  I'm not going to lie—Broadchurch was difficult to read (and watch) at certain points.  It's depressing.  And the ending made me sick to my stomach, truth be told.  Overall, though, the book's an engrossing page turner that I had trouble putting down even when I really, really wanted to.  I'll definitely look for more of Kelly's work at my local library.

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

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language, violence, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

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Analyn "Apple" Yengko and her mother moved from The Philippines to Louisiana eight years ago.  Eight years.  So, why does Apple's mother still insist on cooking weird Filipino foods, speaking in Cebuano, and acting so different, so un-American?  All 12-year-old Apple wants is to be like the other kids.  Isn't it enough that she has brown skin and black hair when everyone else is white and blonde?  Does her mom have to emphasize the fact that they're not born-and-raised Americans?

Apple already feels like a misfit, but when she lands on the Dog Log—a list of the ten ugliest girls in her middle school—things go from bad to worse.  No one in Louisiana can understand her humiliation, so she turns to the only people who can make her feel better: the Beatles.  Escaping into music (Apple wants to be a songwriter) is helpful, but what she really needs is to escape for real.  She already has an exit plan, one that involves busking in the Big Easy.  All she needs to live out her dreams is a guitar.  As soon as she can convince her mother to buy her one (ha!), Apple will leave Chapel Spring forever.  And she'll never feel out of place again.

Of course, dreams are never that easy to achieve.  There will be some major bumps along the way.  Also, some new friendships that just might change everything for a lonely Filipino girl who just wants to belong ...

Back in the Stone Age (the 90s seem so long ago!), I spent my junior year of high school as an exchange student in the southern Philippines.  That year abroad changed me—it broadened my view of the world; introduced me to a place marked by awe-inspiring beauty, loving people, and stark poverty; and gave me experiences I couldn't have gained anywhere else (yes, eating dog was one of them).  The Philippines will always have a special place in my heart because of my year there.  Thus, I'm always excited when I come across a book about the country and its culture.  There aren't many, so I was thrilled to hear about Blackbird Fly, a debut novel by Erin Estrada Kelly, who is, herself, Filipino-American.  The story echoes her experience growing up in Louisiana as one of very few Asian people.  Apple's tale is heartbreaking, but ultimately hopeful as she finds acceptance and comes to terms with her complex culture and identity.  As Kelly says in a blog post on the subject, "Otherness is universal."  Kids will empathize with Apple because they understand feeling different.  They will root for her because they long for acceptance, too.  Through Apple they will learn valuable lessons about empathy, inclusion, and celebrating the differences that define each of us.  For all these reasons, I enjoyed Blackbird Fly.  It's an important book, one that will strike a chord with anyone who's ever felt "other"—and, really, who hasn't?

(Readalikes: Reminds me of other culture clash middle grade/YA novels like Just Like Me by Nancy J. Cavanaugh; The Blossoming Universe of Violet Diamond by Brenda Woods; Black Boy White School by Brian F. Walker; Skunk Girl by Sheba Karim; Sell-Out by Ebony Joy Wilkins; When the Black Girl Sings by Bil Wright; etc.)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), and mild sexual innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Blackbird Fly from the generous folks at Harper Collins.  Thank you!