November 18, 2023
Library Loot Mini-Reviews: Celebrity Memoirs
August 9, 2023
Library Loot Mini-Reviews: To Gore or Not To Gore
January 29, 2023
Mini-Reviews: Suspense Round-Up
October 23, 2022
Review: Listen to Me
June 4, 2022
Library Loot Reviews: Two "It" Suspense Novels
May 17, 2021
Review: The Obsession
April 25, 2021
Library Loot Mini-Reviews: Grifters, Tragedy and Second Chances
I've hit a spat of decent reads lately, which is a good thing since so far 2021 is looking like my 3-Star reads are going to outpace my 4-Star reads (ugh, this always depresses me). I'm still in the throes of "obligation reading" but in between I've been picking up books and audiobooks via The Day Job and that's where my recent hits have been.
Confident Women: Swindlers, Grifters, and Shapeshifters of the Feminine Persuasion by Tori Telfer is an engrossing listen on audiobook and the kind of true crime book I'd recommend to folks who 1) like true crime but 2) don't want a bunch of serial killer gore. Telfer breaks down her chapters by "types" of female grifters: The Glitterati, the Spirituals, the Drifters etc. She delves somewhat into what fascinates us about con artists (especially female con artists...) but it's not a deep dive psychological treatise. This is very much a book for the layperson.Final Grade = B
Monday's Not Coming by Tiffany D. Jackson was another listen/read on audio that I picked up as it was billed as a YA suspense novel. Set in Washington D.C., Charlotte returns from a summer trip to Georgia ready to start her final year of middle school. Her BFF, Monday Charles, didn't write all summer - which is weird because they promised to write each other. Now it's the first day of the 8th grade and Monday isn't there. She's also not there the next day, or the next day, or the next day. Worse still? Nobody seems overly concerned about Monday's vanishing act except for Charlotte. She goes to every grown adult we tell kids to go to when they suspect there is trouble: she tells teachers, her parents, she even goes to Monday's house and is roundly dismissed by Monday's piece of crap mother. As the year wears on and Monday is still "not here" - Charlotte finds herself struggling.April 4, 2021
Library Loot Mini-Reviews: Two Recent (Good) Reads
My reading time isn't my own at the moment "for reasons" and while it's been great for my reading output (deadlines!), I can't really say I've loved much of it. It's mostly been tedium with a side dreadful. When I was a younger, baby blogger I used to blog about Every. Single. Book. I read. No foolin'. But now I'm too old and tired for such shenanigans. That said, I do clock everything and write pithy reviews on GoodReads - so if you want to read all The Good, The Bad and The Ugly - be sure to follow me over there.
It's been weeks since I've blogged though, so I've decided I need to put something up here - which means y'all are getting two pithy, mini-reviews for books I actually have enjoyed in recent memory. Neither of them romance. OK, one of them is. Sorta, kinda. Let's lead off with that one shall we?
The Switch by Beth O'Leary was the March pick for my monthly book club / book girlies Zoom chat. Not everybody was enthralled with it, and I'm pretty sure it was a DNF for one person - but I liked it! And this being my blog, we all know I'm right 😜February 28, 2021
Series Review: Cass Raines, Private Eye
January 17, 2020
Guest Review: Good Girls Lie
The title Good Girls Lie is a play on words since the girls who attend The Goode School in Marchburg, Virginia are bound by a strict honor code: the stricture against lying is listed first. The school and the town are both fictional although J.T. Ellison is an alumna of Randolph-Macon Woman’s College in Lynchburg, Virginia (class of ’91). Ellison said she has “woven pieces of the school’s legends and tragedies into this story, all put through my own creative lens.”
The first chapter is entitled The Hanging. Ellison paints a horrifying picture—the opposite of how you might imagine a pastoral, purposeful prep school.
The girl’s body dangles from the tall, iron gates guarding the school’s entrance. A closer examination shows the ends of a red silk tie peeking out like a cardinal on a winter branch, forcing her neck into a brutal angle. She wears her graduation robe and multicolored stole as if knowing she’ll never see the achievement.The scene quickly shifts back in time to the arrival of Ash Carlisle, a new student from Oxford, England. Dean Westhaven welcomes Ash into her inner sanctum and asks her over a perfectly prepared cup of Oolong tea if she remembers the words of the Honor Pledge. Ash dutifully recites it.
“I will hold myself and my fellow students to the highest standards. I pledge absolute honesty in my work and my personal relationships. I will never take a shortcut to further my own goals. I will not lie, I will not cheat, I will not steal. I will turn myself in if I fail to live up to this obligation, and I will encourage those who break the code in any way to report themselves as well. I believe in trust and kindness, and the integrity of this oath. On my honor.”A classic mystery trope is the stranger entering an environment that is rich with long-standing traditions and customs. What is more hide-bound than an elite girls boarding-school? Think of The Official Preppy Handbook: fitting in at a boarding school is all about knowing and following the unspoken rules, be it clothing, manners, or the all-important who you know and where you’re from. Ash is worried “about fitting in with the daughters of the DC elite—daughters of senators and congressmen and ambassadors and reporters and the just plain filthy rich,” but she is “more than” pretty and as for her intelligence, she’s off the charts: “she’s both book smart and street-smart, the rarest of combinations.” Whilst Ash muses about her acceptability in a new environment, Ellison lays down a troubling marker.
Despite her concerns, if she sticks to the story, she will fit in with no issues. The only strike against her, of course, is me, but no one knows about me. No one can ever know about me.What could this mean? Why does Dean Westhaven have to remind herself to call Ash by the last name Carlisle, instead of Carr? Troubling information like this is meted out in trickles but what really informs Good Girls Lie is the dichotomy between everything the school publicly represents and the actions of the girls behind the gates. The Goode School is known colloquially as a “Silent Ivy,” a sobriquet that plays on the school’s phenomenal acceptance rate at the Ivy Leagues. Of each class of graduates, “a full 90 percent go traditional Ivy.”
It is a laudable record. Goode accepts only the best, guarantees a serious return on investment. And in turn, expects blood, sweat, and tears. And future endowments. Elitism costs.“Blood, sweat, and tears.” That’s a rather harsh description of high school, albeit a demanding girls-only prep school but Ash discovers the truth of it early on. Exhausted after dragging a huge suitcase up two flights of stairs, she looks at her information packet to find out the number of her room. It’s 214. A group of girls “point to the left as one, a flock of helpful, smiling little birds.” At the end of the hall, she finds the number written on a piece of paper, taped to a door. It’s a thoroughly gothic introduction to boarding school life.
Steeling myself, I open the door into…darkness. A heady, musty smell, overlaid with bleach. Across the room are two cobwebbed windows covered in smeary, dotted dirt. The floor is draped in tarps; neatly stacked ladders line the far wall, a row of paint cans in front of them. A fluorescent light swings from the ceiling. When I flip the switch, it comes to life with an ominous crackle.That’s not all Ash hears—outside the door are “peals of laughter.” Really? “Oh, ha, bloody ha,” she thinks. But isn’t hazing of new students traditional? Or is this an indication of how things are going to be? Ash’s insularity, combined with her British background, make it impossible for her to escape notice. She is quickly targeted by her fellow students, particularly Becca, a member of the senior class. Becca is a natural leader, luminous, intelligent, and brilliant at blowing hot and cold at Ash. Becca and her followers quickly uncover the mystery of Ash’s mysterious background although Ellison deftly inserts clues that indicate that there’s much more to Ash than meets the eye.
The “hanging” marks a shift in the plot, from uncomfortable scenes of bullying and competition to dark secrets and downright terror. A paragraph describing Good Girls Lie takes on a frightening resonance: “In a world where appearances are everything, as long as students pretend to follow the rules, no one questions the cruelties of the secret societies or the dubious behavior of the privileged young women who expect to get away with murder.” Getting away with murder in this venue means more than scamming someone or something and getting off scot free—at The Goode School, murder is brutal and inexplicable. Good Girls Lie is a complicated, absorbing tale that is painted in morally ambiguous shades of grey, not black and white.
March 3, 2019
Mini-Review: The Girl They Left Behind
Inspired by family history, the story opens with an abandoned girl, no more than a toddler, being found outside an apartment building. Her parents, fleeing into the night from the Bucharest pogrom, are faced with an impossible decision, ultimately leaving their daughter behind. She is found by a building resident and taken to a nearby orphanage where she is adopted by a wealthy couple, Anton and Despina Goza.
Despite World War II raging across Europe, life is good for the Goza family. Little Natalia is doted on, attends Catholic school, and is becoming an accomplished piano player. Despina is a consummate hostess and Anton the successful owner of a stationary store, after a childhood of poverty and desperation. There are atrocities all around them, and they carry on - until the war draws to a close, the bombings begin without ceasing, and Romania is "liberated" by the Soviets. The Iron Curtain falls and life as the Goza's knew it is over.
The story is told in three parts - going from Anton and Despina, to Natalia, to Victor, a young man that Anton befriends during the war who becomes a high ranking official in the Communist government. And behind the curtain is the story of Natalia's birth parents. The young couple forced to make an impossible decision in the hopes they will all survive and be reunited one day.
It took me a while to sink into this story. The first part, covering the adoption is necessary as set-up, but not as riveting as the latter portion of the book, when the tale shifts to an older Natalia's viewpoint and we get the tightening of the Soviet noose around the Romanian people. To be perfectly frank, World War II as a historical fiction backdrop has taken on a been-there-done-that feel. What's been less common is post-War stories. Stories of people "liberated" by the Soviets. In other words, yeah war is over - but at what cost? And this story, in part, addresses that.
Since this blog is largely frequented by romance readers, the question probably foremost on your minds is: "Sure Wendy, but does it have a happy ending?" Well? Sort of? Bittersweet is probably the best way to put it. Natalia finds answers to what became of her biological parents, but it's not a book where everyone is reunited at the end, holding hands, singing Kumbaya and sharing bottles of Coca-Cola in a meadow. It ends the way, I suspect, it did for many Eastern European immigrants post-World War II. Trying to carve out better lives for themselves and reunite with the loved ones still back in the old country, stuck behind an Iron Curtain slowly suffocating them.
After a slow beginning I really fell into this story. It was very engrossing in parts, and I learned stuff - which is always an added bonus when reading historical fiction. This debut novel has garnered a fair amount of praise and it's easy to see why.
Final Grade = B
February 24, 2019
Review: Finding Dorothy
L. Frank Baum has been gone for 20 years by 1938 when his widow, Maud Baum (now 77 years old) shows up on the MGM studio lot to ensure Hollywood doesn't completely trample over her husband's legacy. She essentially needs to strong arm her way through the gates and into the offices of Louis B. Mayer - but is indulged long enough to be invited back to witness some of the filming...even if she's been unable to get her hands on a final script that seems to change on daily basis.
This is a time slip novel, alternating between the filming of the movie and Maud's past. In 1938/1939, she's meeting Judy Garland, concerned for the girl being squeezed into submission by a domineering mother and a studio system looking to grind her to dust to make a buck. The Maud's "past" portion of the story covers her childhood, raised by famous suffragist, Matilda Joslyn Gage, her acceptance into Cornell University, meeting and falling in love with theater actor, L. Frank Baum, and their life together prior to him writing The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. It's the past portions of the story I enjoyed the most, almost as if Maud was the wizard behind the curtain all along. Frank was the dreamer, Maud was the glue that kept the whole thing together.
While the Frank and Maud courtship and marriage would definitely be the stuff of a romance novel, readers of this blog (who are predominantly romance readers), should be aware it's not all sunshine and roses. There are hardships, and events, that are difficult to read about. Maud nearly dying after the birth of her second child, her sister Julia's weak constitution and disastrous marriage, the beginnings of Judy Garland's descent into drug addiction and the slime orbiting her as a child actor in the studio system.
What I enjoyed so much about this book is that it took completely unknown to me history and made it come alive - which, frankly, is what all good historical fiction should do. It did get a little tell-y in parts, but I was so engrossed by Maud's life, her marriage, her struggles, juxtaposed with the making of one of the most famous movies of all time, I was sucked up by the magic of the all - even though we all know the magic to be an illusion often hiding ugly realities.
I'm still unlikely to ever read the Oz books, but I've walked away with an appreciation for a woman who I had no inkling about prior. Maud Baum gets her turn in the spotlight and I can't think of anyone more deserving.
Final Grade = B+
February 4, 2019
Epic Spoiler Review: Sadie
But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
First, if the title of this blog post didn't clue you in - I'm going to be giving ALL the spoilers. ALL OF THEM. There's no way for me to talk about this book, my disappointment in this book, without talking about the ending.
Also, trigger warnings for childhood sexual abuse. I wouldn't describe it as graphic, but it is upsetting which...of course it is. Now, on to my rant...
Sadie Hunter has been on her own since the day she was born to a drug addicted mother. When she's six, Mom gets pregnant again, giving birth to Mattie. Sadie adores Mattie. She's the kind of golden child that everyone dotes on. Mom favors Mattie and neglects Sadie (for reasons) but that doesn't mean she's a competent mother to Mattie either - so Sadie, already struggling with a severe stutter that Mom refused to get her help for, is raising herself and Mattie with some help from a kindly grandmother figure who lives in the trailer next door. Then, one day, Mom abandons them for parts unknown, Mattie is found dead in a field, and Sadie takes off to find the man she knows is responsible.
Sadie takes off without word, worrying the kindly grandmother figure next door who can't deal with "another dead girl." Entering stage left is a NPR-style journalist, West McCray, who overhears the story of Sadie and Mattie and decides to work the angle of the missing Sadie into a podcast called "The Girls."
The audio book is a multi-narrator extravaganza and the book is broken up between chapters from Sadie's point of view, to podcast chapters of West reconstructing Sadie's trail months after the fact. It's clever, engrossing, and if you're a fan of true crime podcasts you will likely love it. I cannot recommend the audio production highly enough. I'm normally not wild about multi-narrator (thank you erotic romance for killing that for me...) audio books, but wow. This one is great. A+ all the way around.
So where did it all go horribly wrong? The ending. You've got a 19-year-old girl on a vigilante mission to find the guy who sexually abused her as a kid (one of Mom's horrible boyfriends, because, of course), and finds a nest of snakes everywhere she goes. This guy had blown back into town right before Mattie's murder, so Sadie KNOWS (again, for reasons) that he's the guy, he has to die, and she's going to be the one to kill him. So what happens?
She finds The Bad Guy. And then we're back to the podcast. What we know? The Bad Guy came home disheveled and dirty telling his new girlfriend he just had to sleep. She finds him about 24 hours later, dead from a knife wound in his side that became infected. What happened to Sadie? Did she get away? Did he bury her somewhere?
WE NEVER FIND OUT!!!!!! She's still missing at the end of the book. Great, the bad guy is dead. Huzzah. BUT WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO OUR MAIN PROTAGONIST?!?!??!!?!?!?!?
Will there be a sequel? Oh who the heck knows at the this point. I DON'T FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS TO SADIE AND NOW I WANT TO SMASH THINGS AND THROAT PUNCH EVERYBODY!!!!!!
So what started out as an engrossing read, a YA thriller that I would have killed for when I was a teen, turns into WTFBBQ JUST HAPPENED AND I HATE EVERYBODY!
This is a genre book. Genre = readers want a g-d ending. This open-ended garbage needs to die in a fiery pit the heat of a thousand blazing suns.
Yeah, I'm a tinch annoyed.
Final Grade = D
August 30, 2018
Mini-Reviews: Rebekah Roberts Series
Invisible City by Julia Dahl is the first book in the series and introduces the reader to Rebekah Roberts, a young (early 20s) reporter for the New York Tribune (think New York Post). Rebekah is a stringer - which means she goes where the paper sends her, she digs up details on a breaking story and phones it in to the desk for someone else to write. She's sent to a scrap yard where the body of a young woman has been found, discarded like trash. Turns out the woman is from the insulated Hasidic Jewish community, which is already closing ranks. The whole story is challenging enough but then Rebekah meets Saul Katz, a cop, who tells her she "looks just like her mother." Shocking since Rebekah's mother, also a Hasidic Jew, left the community to be with Rebekah's father, only to abandon her lover and newborn baby without a word. As in, they have no idea if she's alive, dead, what the heck happened to her, abandoned.
As Rebekah works the story she finds herself learning more about her mother, a woman who has cast a long shadow and shaped her life by her very disappearance. Dahl has taken a very women's fiction idea (a heroine coming to peace with her mother) and woven it into a mystery novel. The world-building is very good, although Rebekah is a green reporter who makes some seriously bone-headed decisions in this book (my biggest gripe here). But she's young and green and it's totally believable that she would make wrong moves as she's emotionally being battered by the ghost of Mommy Dearest. Grade = B-
Run You Down picks up immediately where Invisible City left off and people, this book! It's one of those incredibly shocking with the benefit of hindsight books. It takes place during the Obama administration and white supremacists end up playing a hefty roll in the plot. Given current affairs (see: Charlottesville...) Dahl comes off looking like a genius or someone who can see into the future (this was published in 2015).
A Hasidic man comes to see Rebekah. He lives in upstate New York and his wife was found dead in their bathtub. Everyone said it's a suicide because *gasp* she was on anti-depressants (a HUGE stigma in the community). But he cannot believe it. His wife would never abandon their infant son. So he begs Rebekah to look into it, which she does. And once again, the ghost of her mother is lurking in the shadows.
The author moves between alternating points of view in this story - giving us present day Rebekah as she works the story and her mother, Aviva, who tells the story of her past, how she came to abandon her daughter, and what her life has become. Eventually both narratives collide, chickens come home to roost, and daughter finally meets her mother.
The dual narrative took some time for me to sink into, mostly because I was more interested in the mystery than in Aviva's point of view. But once the author begins weaving the threads together, the suspense ratchets up and the ending is explosive, shocking, and upsetting. White supremacists are involved, so that should give you the clue that things get very ugly, and no one is going to walk away unscathed. Final Grade = B
As challenging and thought-provoking as Run You Down was, Conviction was at times an uglier read. Rebekah is at loose ends, dissatisfied with work at The Trib following the events of the previous book. She meets a woman who runs a crime blog who tells her she gets hundreds of letters from prisoners begging her to write about their cases. Rebekah is looking for a story that isn't tabloid trash and reads some of those letters. That's when she finds one sent by DeShawn Perkins, who as a teenager was convicted of the savage murders of his foster parents and toddler foster sister while they slept in bed in the summer of 1992. DeShawn says he didn't do it, but what he claims was a coerced confession and an eye witness sealed his fate. What catches Rebekah's eye about this letter? One of the original officers on the case was none other than Saul Katz.
We have dual timelines with this story: 1992 when Saul and his partner catch the case and present day as Rebekah starts to dig. What's coloring the edges of this story is the fact that in DeShawn's Crown Heights neighborhood in 1991 there was a riot ignited by tensions between the Hasidic Jewish community and Black residents. The murder of DeShawn's family just one year after those riots changes everything for him with the consequences reverberating 20 years later.
Again, I wasn't as enamored with the dual narrative structure here but it's important because it unfolds DeShawn's story and sets the stage for Rebekah's digging into it in 2017. What soon becomes evident is that there's plenty of blame to go around and it will unearth secrets that many people would love to see stay buried. I'm not going to lie, this is an upsetting read. In part because it shows us that gray area where "good people" make horrible choices based on the idea that "well, so what about that guy, he's not my problem." There's an inhumanity here that is upsetting in it's subtlety and Dahl unearths all the ugly racism and prejudices that can lurk below the surface, undetected, until they either boil over or someone takes the lid off the pot to send it into the atmosphere. It's not an easy read but it's compelling and remarkable. Grade = B+
Genre fiction (of all stripes) tends to get labelled as fluffy, brain candy more often than not. This trilogy is a perfect example of how something as "entertaining" as genre fiction can also be thought-provoking. These are the sorts of mysteries that you could recommend to someone who says, "I only read serious fiction!" or to a book club group who sniffs disdainfully at your leisure reading. There's a lot to unpack in all three of these stories, and read as a set of three, it's a fine achievement.
The last book came out in 2017 and I hope the author isn't finished with Rebekah. She sets things up in the final book that could take her heroine off into some interesting directions and it seems a shame to waste such a lovely series idea. But, Dahl is also a journalist so - who knows?
I know this blog is mostly read by romance readers, and I will say that while Rebekah does date, there's really no romantic story arcs to be found in these books. That said, there's a lovely friendship between Rebekah and her roommate, along with all that baggage to unpack with Mommy Dearest. While the books are challenging reads, justice and the truth do come out in the end - but not without collateral damage.
March 17, 2018
Review: All the Beautiful Girls
SPOILERS AHEAD!
When Lily Decker is 8-years-old her parents and big sister are killed in a car accident. Lily, asleep in the back seat, survives. She goes to live with her Mom's sister and her husband. Her Aunt Tate is stern and cold, her Uncle Miles is a child molester. It doesn't take him long to start coming into Lily's room at night. Naturally, this doesn't have a positive effect on Lily who starts cutting herself. While none of these scenes are written in what I would classify as a graphic manner, there's enough on the page here to be upsetting.
Lily develops a love of dance and thanks to a benefactor begins taking dance lessons in her tiny Kansas town where her beauty stands out in a crowd. Big fish, little pond. This benefactor is a man she calls The Aviator, the guy who was driving the other car involved in the accident that killed her parents and sister. Lily worships this guy for the whole book.
Let's recap so far. Lily's parents and sister are killed in an accident, she goes to live with a cold fish aunt and an uncle who molests her and the man who was also part of the same accident gets off scot-free in her mind to the point of hero worship. I'm calling BS on this folks. I'm sorry, I just am. The accident completely and irrevocably changes the trajectory of Lily's life, not for the better, and she never feels one iota of anger at the man who walked away from the accident that left her entire family dead and her at the mercy of a damn child molester. Yeah, no. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.
Anyway, time marches on, Lily graduates high school and heads to Las Vegas to become a dancer - which is when she's met with another cold, hard dose of reality. But a fellow traveler on the same Greyhound bus introduces Lily (now going by the name Ruby Wilde) to his daughter who works at one of the casinos. Eventually, and after much reluctance, Ruby takes her magnificent body and becomes a showgirl. Silver pasties and all.
This is Vegas in the mid-to-late 1960s, a fairy tale playground of glitz and glamour far away from Vietnam, smelly hippies and the Civil Rights Movement. This middle portion of the book was actually really interesting, as Lily makes her way up the ranks, meets some of her idols (Sammy Davis Jr.! Tom Jones!) and is well compensated in her work.
But then, it all hits a major speed bump with the introduction of an abusive boyfriend. Here's the thing: this book is Very White. Not entirely shocking. Lily/Ruby is from small town Kansas and showgirls in Vegas during this period couldn't exactly be confused with the Rainbow Coalition. So it's a huge slap in the face when the abusive boyfriend turns out to be a Spaniard named Javier, complete with heavy accent and broken English. And of course Ruby is attracted to him immediately because he's SO different from everyone else she's ever known (forgive me, I honestly can't recall if the word "exotic" was used or not) and his accent is a turn on.
So, if you're keeping track, there's two brown people in this book. One, is Sammy Davis Jr. - who basically has a walk-on role. The other? A guy who swoops in like a Latin lover and starts abusing our heroine. In Vegas. In a town that is literally floating in mobsters during this era the author decides to import someone brown (I'm sorry, making him European doesn't make this any less appalling) to fill out our villainous role. I found it jarring folks. Really, really jarring.
Eventually Javier is dispatched with, Ruby reconnects with The Aviator and then the whole thing descends into idealistic happy sunshine territory. Oh, Javier? Once he's off the page, he's literally off the page. There's no closure there. At all. Well Lily gets closure because The Aviator gives her a psychology book to read and suddenly it all makes so much sense to her (because OF COURSE it does). Insert eyeroll here. But that's it. She reads a book. Whether Javier gets his comeuppance or not is left to be a mystery wrapped in an enigma.
Oh, and I'm going to spoil it because I was super worried about this - no, Lily/Ruby never hooks up with The Aviator. Given what has to be an over 20-year age difference, I was super worried about this going into the story. Oddly enough, it turns out that was the least of my worries. Because in the epilogue-like chapter? We find out Lily has entered into a relationship with a nice man named Simon with curly blonde hair who treats her right. Oh, and there was the astronaut she has an affair with in Vegas who treats her well. So the men who treat Lily well in this book? White dudes. The abusive a-hole? The brown guy who speaks broken English. Seriously the more I think about it the more I get annoyed.
I'm not going to give this an F. Why? Because other than the narrator reading Javier's character with a horrible accent, I found the audio version engaging and I liked the relationship depicted between Lily/Ruby and her girlfriends. It kept me listening. Which, given my recent string of listening/reads feels like an achievement. But yeah. Problematic. This is really, really problematic.
Final Grade = D










