(Image from Barnes & Noble)

As a midwife in turn-of-the-century New York City, Sarah Brandt feels as if she's seen it all.  Still, when she comes across the strangled corpse of a 16-year-old girl while attending to a new mother in a shabby boardinghouse, she's stunned.  Not only because of the brutality of the murder, but also because she knows the victim.  Alicia Van Damm is the daughter of a prominent, wealthy family—a family with whom Sarah is acquainted.  What was Alicia doing in the squalid tenements?  How did she end up both pregnant and dead?  

The Van Damms fear nothing more than a scandal.  Sarah, however, can't bear to let the brutal killing go unpunished.  With the help of Frank Malloy, a taciturn police detective, she takes it upon herself to investigate the crime.  The more she digs, the more dangerous her life becomes.  Can Sarah find Alicia's killer before the murderer finds Sarah?  It's a prospect that's looking more and more unlikely ...

Murder on Astor Place, the first installment of Victoria Thompson's popular Gaslight Mystery series, is an atmospheric, engrossing novel.  It gets points for a vivid setting and for an interesting heroine, who's both brave and determined.  Frank is not as likable; perhaps that's why I felt no real chemistry between him and Sarah.  The plot of Murder on Astor Place is unoriginal and a bit slow.  I saw the big reveal coming from miles away.  Nevertheless, I enjoyed this novel overall.  I didn't love it, so I'm not sure I'll continue with the series.  Lots of readers love the Gaslight Mystery series, which will reach 22 installments in 2019, so I may give it another chance.  Or not.  We'll see.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a bit of the Below Stairs mysteries [Death Below Stairs; Scandal Above Stairs] by Jennifer Ashley)

Grade: 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), violence, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  I bought an e-copy of Murder on Astor Place from Amazon with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha.

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (a couple of F-bombs, plus milder expletives), violence, and disturbing subject matter

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

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

It's been a year since Susannah Gilmore's husband of 20 years died in a bicycle accident and she's still trying to pick up the pieces.  In an effort to start over, the widow moves herself and her two teens from Brooklyn to her family's summer cottage in tiny Eastwood, New Hampshire.  Sixteen-year-old Calista is already boiling over with grief and anger; relocation to the middle of nowhere only makes her more surly.  Her younger brother tries to keep the peace, but the tension in the family never seems to cease, despite their tranquil new surroundings.

When Susannah discovers an intriguing item—a love note addressed to her mother, written in a script that is not her father's—in the house, she finds a needed distraction.  That's not the only thing grabbing her attention, though.  She's researching another puzzling mystery for a novel she's writing, spending more time than she should thinking about handsome Corbin Bailey, and desperately trying to ease her family's heartbreak so they can heal together.  Can Susannah find the answers she's looking for, the peace she's seeking, and the second love she doesn't know she needs?  

The wounded-woman-coming-home-to-heal trope is one I'm always up for, especially when it's done well.  The House on Primrose Pond by Yona Zeldis McDonough fits the first bill, but not necessarily the second.  While the novel has some compelling elements, it's way too long and wordy.  Susannah is a sympathetic heroine, but she's also a selfish, annoying pushover who lets her bratty teenager call all the shots.  I had a hard time respecting her or really caring all that much about her plight.  In the end, then, I found The House on Primrose Pond to be an okay read, nothing more.  

(Readalikes:  A million titles should be coming to mind, but I'm drawing a blank.  Help!)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), innuendo/sexual content, and references to illegal drug use

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

When I mentioned how much I enjoyed reading novels about Amish life, my writer friend Kimberley Griffiths Little recommended Plain Girl by Virginia Sorensen.  Although the book was published in 1957, I'd never heard of it.  A pity, because it tells a sweet, simple story that's deeper than it appears to be at first glance.  It's a short novel, written for a middle grade audience, that asks some intriguing questions about tradition vs. change, faith vs. fear, tolerance vs. judgement, and forgiveness vs. anger.  That might sound too "churchy" for modern MG readers, but really, the lessons Plain Girl teaches are subtle and universal ones about embracing one's own identity and not just accepting other people's differences, but also learning from them.  Like Kimberley, I highly recommend this little gem of a book, which I very much enjoyed.

(Readalikes:  Hm, I've never read another children's book about the Amish, so I'm not sure to what I can compare Plain Girl.  Any ideas?)

Grade:

 If this were a movie, it would be rated:

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