Growing up in a New York City orphanage has given scrappy Amelia Matthew the pluck to survive in a rough time and place. Combining moxie with a modicum of psychic talent, she manages to earn enough to create a decent life for herself and her beloved foster brother, Jonas. When a knock on the head changes Amelia's mild ability into something far more powerful, she's shocked. As she grapples to understand her newfound skills, a strange vision in a public park assaults her. The next thing she knows, she's waking up in a city insane asylum on isolated Blackwell's Island. Despite her protests, Amelia is unable to leave. Even Jonas can't find a way to free her. 

In spite of himself, Andrew Cavanaugh, a young doctor from Philadelphia, finds himself quite taken with the pretty new patient. Naturally, he doesn't believe her when she claims to see spirits—until she proves it to him. As Andrew works to release Amelia from care, he's approached by a desperate mother searching for the daughter she believes is being hidden in the asylum. With Amelia's help, he looks into the case, uncovering a shocking trail of corruption and cruelty at his workplace. Powerful people rule the asylum. What can a lowly doctor and his imprisoned patient possibly do for their helpless victims? Especially when Amelia's dubious gift is still so uncontrollable and she's not entirely sure she doesn't belong on Blackwell's Island herself...

Until 16-year-old Ada Morgan ran away with her boyfriend, she had never known true freedom. The last thing she wants to do now is return home to the squalor of her stilt house on the swamp. She knows her father—a coarse and cruel trapper—will be thrilled to have her back. Not only will he have someone to wait on him again, but he will also delight in punishing her for leaving him. If she had any other option, she would never return to him. With nowhere else to go, she has no choice but to go back to Mississippi, back to the Trace, back to her father. 

Matilda Patterson is also anxious to leave her home on the Natchez Trace. The Black teen is the daughter of poor sharecroppers who eke out a meager living in a place that will never allow them to get ahead. With local bootleggers making things even more difficult for the family, Matilda's ready to take her secrets and run. A more promising future awaits her in the north; she just has to make it there.

When their lives converge one fateful night, Ada and Matilda are shocked to find themselves partners in crime. Literally. Their tenuous bond is the only thing keeping both of them safe, but it's a tenuous sisterhood that could break at any moment. As their linked past becomes more apparent, the two begin to realize just how much danger they're really in. When more trouble comes calling, it's up to them to protect themselves and each other against deadly odds.

It's no secret that I love me an absorbing historical story, the more atmospheric the better. The Girls in the Stilt House, a debut novel by Kelly Mustian, ticks all these boxes. Its vivid, visceral setting is a character in its own right, exhibiting all the beauty, danger, and contradiction inherent in every human. As untamed as the swampland surrounding them, our heroines are sympathetic because of their impoverished, hardscrabble lives. What makes them admirable is the fiery grit that burns deep inside them, giving them strength, courage, and the will to keep fighting. Plot-wise, this is a slow-burning tale. While this device takes a little patience, it also ensures that by the time the story's action really amps up, the reader cares deeply about what's going to happen and to whom. Although it's not a happy, all-tied-up-with-a-bow story, The Girls in the Stilt House is compelling, moving, and beautifully written. I loved this assured debut.

I love Thanksgiving, so I always make a point not to decorate for Christmas or even listen to carols until after the turkey's been eaten. While I was taking my Sunday nap the other day, however, my husband set up our Christmas tree (ostensibly to see if the new lights he bought for it looked good or if he needed to return them—uh huh). With the tree up and lit, I've had to succumb(ish) to the start of the Christmas crazy (I do love Christmas, just not too early), so I'm officially changing over to the holiday Top Ten Tuesday banner. It's festive and fun, so there you go.

Today's TTT topic—Books to Read If You Love/Loved X (X can be a genre, specific book, author, movie/TV show, etc.)—is one I've been looking forward to, even though it's had me wracking my brain for the perfect topic. The one I came up with is a little...grim, especially considering we're in the season of gratitude, merrymaking, comfort, joy, and so on. Still, it's one that always appeals to me for some strange reason. Call me morbid, but I'm going to go with Top Ten Books to Read If You Love Stories About Maritime Disasters. Honestly, I don't know why I'm so fascinated with this subject. Something about catastrophe striking in the middle of the sea and people trying to survive in such desperate circumstances just intrigues me.

1926—As a nurse working in the adrenaline-fueled, male-dominated field of emergency medicine, 24-year-old Althea Anderson is used to taking orders from the doctors, obeying their commands without question. When another premature baby dies at her hospital because a physician determines it to be "God's will" that only the strongest infants survive, Althea can no longer stay quiet. She knows tiny babies are being saved every day at nearby Coney Island. Yes, they're on public display, another lurid attraction to entertain gawking tourists, but the admission fees are used to employ nurses who cuddle and care for the children, giving them a chance to not just survive but also thrive. "Doctor" Martin Couney's medical credentials might be a bit murky, but Althea knows he's working miracles with his boardwalk babies. Althea's superiors scoff when she suggests sending their newest struggling infant to Couney, so she takes matters into her own hands, changing the course of her life—and the baby's—forever.

1950—While Stella Wright isn't sure she wants children of her own, she pours her heart and soul into nurturing the students she teaches in her special education class. School administrators believe the kids aren't worth the effort; Stella is determined to prove them wrong. By day, she battles for their rights while by night, she helps her veteran husband fight the demons that haunt him night after night. When her beloved mother dies, Stella is wracked with grief. A curious letter found among the dead woman's things mystifies Stella, sending her on a puzzling journey into her mother's past. As old secrets are revealed, she learns shocking truths about her mother—and herself.

I read The Light of Luna Park, a debut novel by Addison Armstrong, back in June, but it's appropriate that I'm reviewing it in November as my two preemies were born this month. Both of my sons made sudden arrivals at 29 weeks, weighed less than 3 1/2 pounds, and spent at least a month in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit (NICU) fighting for their lives. My teensy-tiny babies seemed incapable of living through the night, let alone growing up to be the strong, healthy young men they are now. If they had been born 100 years ago, would their doctor have deemed them worthy of saving? 

Because of my experience with premature birth, I have always found Martin Couney's work fascinating. I've never read a novel about the subject, so I was keen to give Armstrong's a go. The Light of Luna Park features sympathetic characters who are admirable for their kindness, compassion, and bravery. Althea is likable, while I had a harder time with Stella, although she did grow on me as her story progressed. As usual with dual-timeline setups, I enjoyed the past story in this book better than the present one. Still, both are compelling in their own way. Plot-wise, it's obvious from the get-go how the novel's two storylines are going to merge, but that really doesn't make the tale less engrossing. There are a few holes that make the story less believable. On the whole, though, The Light of Luna Park is an engaging, thought-provoking novel that brings to light an interesting piece of history most people probably don't know about. Even though I knew the basics, I still found the novel to be a fascinating, enjoyable read.

(Readalikes: Reminds me of The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards as well as books by Susan Meissner and Diane Chamberlain)