Tanya

This book was hilarious! It isn't a memoir in a traditional sense, both because it's in graphic novel form and because it contains short stories of the author's life, ranging from childhood into her adult life and marriage. It contains laugh-out-loud stories about her dogs (Simple Dog and Helper Dog), getting lost in the wilderness as a child, and a wild animal attack.

Brosh also shares deep feelings about her battle with depression and her self-doubt. Several stories almost brought me to tears because they were so raw and honest. I saw a bit of myself in her and have gained a deeper respect for her ability to be so honest about what she sees as her flaws.

I'd highly recommend this book to anyone!

This book was odd but interesting. I enjoy David Gran's writing quite a bit and he has a knack for finding odd but relatable - in a REALLY far out sort of way - to write about. The story I found the most interesting was the one that opened the book, about a Sherlock Holmes scholar who ends up becoming obsessed about a few particular missing manuscripts and then dies under strange circumstances.

My one complaint is that the book is billed as “true crime” even though not all of the writing focuses on crime (or obsession as the subtitle would have you believe). There are a dozen pages or so that go on about giant squids. Interesting, I guess, but not true crime. The book is much better approached as a collection of David Gran essays rather than having much to do with one another.

I cannot say enough good things about this book! It tells the story of A., who inherits a mansion from his American cousin and decides to take up residence there with his friend in order to solve the mystery of his cousins mysterious suicide. The story is told through varied media forms - letters, transcripts, closed circuit cameras, etc. The story twists and turns as clues are discovered that lead to the grand finale. Oh, did I mention the book involves a secret society and ancient artifacts? So much fun!

Andy Cohen, a Bravo tv show host, producer, and author, was reading The Andy Warhol Diaries when he was inspired to keep his own diary for a year. Even though it was “just” a day to day peek into the life of a 40-something single, successful, gay, Jewish man living in NYC, it was a tremendous amount of fun to read.

It was an interesting look at what the life of a relatively down to earth celebrity is like behind the scenes: navigating the NYC dating scene as a 40-something gay Jewish man using Tinder, finding just the right pet to adopt in order to have “something other than himself to worry about,” forgetting some celebrities names and getting on the bad side of others...the list goes on. Because I watch his show, I heard the entire book in his voice, which made it even better. His family is wonderful - his mom made me laugh uproariously - as do his friends.

I would recommend this to anyone who loves celebrity gossip. :)

I'm not even sure what to say about this book. I had been led to believe that this was a horror novel about teens that found a body in the woods. In actuality, it was a series of short stories that were connected by their involvement, however slight, with the main character. Apart from the disjointed nature of this book, none of the stories were actually scary, but rather just gross. For the record, I don't mind gross, in context, but these seemed to be gross just for the sake of it. I'm not sure if the book lost something in the translation, but this book was not nearly as scary as Ringu. I'd recommend people pass on this book.

“It's my experience that people are a lot more sympathetic if they can see you hurting, and for the millionth time in my life I wish for measles or smallpox or some other easily understood disease just to make it easier on me and also on them.”

Finch and Violet meet on the ledge of their school's bell tower one fall afternoon, each wondering what it would be like to end it all, though stopping short of taking the leap after being surprised to find the other there. Finch, a self-proclaimed loner who is fascinated with death is surprised to find popular Violet in the same situation, though she won't admit to him her reasons for being on the ledge that day. While she resists his efforts to form a friendship, he arranges for them to be partners on a class project, determined to get to know her. During their year together, the two broken teens wander their state, finding beauty and happiness in odd places.

With this book, Jennifer Niven may have changed my mind about YA fiction. Usually I find that tales of heartbroken, “damaged” teens feel forced: rife with kids who can't send a text using full words then make melodramatic speeches (yeah, I'm looking at you, Fault in Our Stars) and parents who are a stereotype. All The Bright Places, however, manages to not only capture authentic teen voices, but also show their daily struggles (bullying, friendships, searching for identity, family dynamics, etc.) without being patronizing.

That's not to say there aren't problems with this novel. The school they attend seems woefully ill-equipped to deal with teenagers. A guidance counselor Finch sees regularly knows of his bell tower visit yet doesn't make any concerted effort to contact Finch's parents, voicemails home go unanswered for the entire year with no follow-up, Finch regularly misses weeks of school, yet there's also no fall-out. Also, the secondary characters are not well developed and sometimes fade into the background, with the possible exception of Finch's and Violet's parents, who demonstrate their dysfunction in opposing ways.

The remarkable thing about this novel, however, is how Niven realistically portrays depression and mental illness. Finch describes his dark times:

I get into these moods sometimes, and I can't shake them. Kind of
black sinking moods. I imagine it's like what being in the eye of a
tornado would be like, all calm and blinding at the same time. I hate
them.

Finch copes by hiding in his closet, making his world small and manageable, until he feels “awake” again and can emerge to face everything again. A school counselor suggests he may have bipolar and Finch fights this suggestion, afraid that he will become even more of a “freak.” Niven manages to capture Finch's desire for an understanding even as he resists the label of a diagnosis.

Strangely, even though others have said that they saw the ending coming, I was so swept up in the story and my concern for these two characters that I was as blindsided by the ending as the characters were - surprised even though, in retrospect, it was probably inevitable. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys John Greene and Rainbow Rowell...but also to those who don't. This book was pitch-perfect in a field of books that otherwise strain a bit too hard to hit the right note.

Brian Freeman's horror anthology contains five short stories, written by Stephen King, Kelly Armstrong, Bill Pronzini, Simon Clark, and Ramsey Campbell. This is to be the first of several and, if this is the case, he's off to a strong start.

This book was incredibly short - less than 100 pages - and was a very quick read. I easily clocked less than an hour of reading time with this one. The Stephen King story “Weeds” (also known as “The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill”) was one he wrote in the 70s and was featured in the second Creepshow film. It tells the tale of Jordy, a farmer who believes the meteor that lands in his backyard will bring him some fast cash, but sadly causes him more trouble than he anticipates. It was an almost humorous story, as Jordy continues to make things worse for himself until the sad end.

Most of the stories were good, but I have to confess that I believed the story by King to be the best (no surprise to me there). I was actually disappointed that Bill Pronzini's story, Magic Eyes, was a short story. After reading it, I wished it had been a whole novel, it was so enjoyable. The fourth story, Murder in Chains, felt as though it were a scene from the middle of a story and was a little too scattered in terms of plot for my liking, though it was more action-packed than the others. The fifth story, The Watched, was my least favorite. It had a good premise, but the execution just wasn't there.

All in all, this was an enjoyable read that I would recommend to fans of the genre, people who enjoy short story collections, or anyone interested in giving these authors a try for the first time without the commitment of reading a novel.

Twelve-year-old Flavia de Luce is out of her element in this, the 7th installment, of Alan Bradley's series. The start of the novel has her on a ship, mid-way across the Atlantic, bound for Canada, where she will be starting her education at Miss Bodycote's Female Academy. She barely has time to settle into her new home when a body comes tumbling down from the chimney, wrapped in the Union Jack and whose head has been replaced with a different skull. Her homesickness is gone at the prospect of a mystery to solve, and she gets right to work. Her investigation reveals students gone missing, a peek into the secret society in which her mother was a member, and a teacher with a murderous past.

I enjoyed this book immensely. Flavia's personality was just what we've come to know and love - she's precocious, quick on her feet, and not afraid of anything. The development of the other characters - her classmates, teachers, and even the headmistress - were all wonderful and it was easy to distinguish one from another. Miss Bodycote's school and the surrounding city are described in wonderful detail, right down to the general store run by the woman who is entertained by Flavia's “charming” accent.

I was a bit disappointed, however, in how disjointed this book felt from the rest of the series. Without access to her attic chemistry laboratory, Flavia finds herself without the solace of chemistry for most of the book. The mystery itself was sometimes illogical - Flavia determines the body must have spent a significant amount of time stuffed up in the chimney, but how would someone have used the fireplace without it being noticed? I'll also freely admit that I missed Buckshaw! The characters, the settings, dependable Dogger and Gertrude...the story arcs that had been built up over the series were seemingly abandoned, and this new setting didn't feel quite like home. Things were touched upon briefly during this novel that I wished had been expanded upon, namely Harriet's time at the school and her participation in the Nides, the secret society that Flavia is there to become a part of as well. Secrets were not elaborated on, and I hope that Bradley plans on returning to these topics for more detail.

In the end, I love this series and so I enjoyed the book. I can't wait, however, for Flavia to be back home at Buckshaw, where she belongs.

(I received an advanced copy from NetGalley for review.)

Hercule Poirot is having a quiet dinner in his favorite London coffeehouse when he encounters a young woman who is terrified of being murdered. Later that day Poirot hears of a murder at an upscale London hotel and accompanies the Scotland Yard detective staying in his boardinghouse to the scene of the crime. There he learns of a mysterious clue...a monogrammed cuff link left in the mouth of each of the three victims. He can't help but think that the young woman he met earlier that night may be the murder's fourth victim...

I personally really enjoyed this book, though I know it's taken some hard hits from other reviewers and even some critics. I didn't go into this expecting the writing to be anything like Christie's writing because - gasp - Sophie Hannah isn't Agatha Christie! Of course the writing won't be a replica of the original Poirot works. Hannah does, however, capture Poirot's personality - his disdain over a lack of imagination in his detective partner, his excitement when he's put two clues together, and his pompous explanations at the close of the book. Hannah also successfully captures the importance of motive and psychology to the plot. She is able to show us both the morality and the darkness of the characters in her story in a way that was vitally important in all of Christie's work.

In the end, the Monogram Murders should not be looked at as a “continuation” of the Poirot library, but rather a new interpretation of an old familiar character. The puzzling twists and turns of the plot, the voices of the characters, and the seeming impossibility of the mystery are all echoes of the Christie I love, with the fabulous writing of Hannah to pull it all together.

Wow.So, after reading this book, I completely understand why it provoked such strong reactions from people when it was released. I mean, who really WANTS to read a book about a sexual predator using her status as a teacher to seduce young men into destructive relationships? But, I have to admit, I couldn't put it down. I literally read this book in less than a day. It sucked me in like a train wreck you can't look away from and didn't let up until the unbelievable (unless you watch the news) ending.I'm sure by now everyone knows that this book is filled with graphic descriptions of sex and it pulls no punches. You WILL want to take a shower after reading it - it's that gross. Even more disturbing than the graphic nature of the book was the honest, almost sociopathic way in which Celeste, the protagonist, goes about explaining what drives her.The book opens as Celeste, a 24-year-old 8th-grade teacher in Tampa, is preparing for the first day of school. Over the next several weeks she'll peruse the available students in her classes and settle on Jack, a quiet 14-year old in her English class. She then seduces him and embarks on a sexual relationship with him, dodging her police officer husband, his absent divorced father, and a handful of potentially nosy neighbors and coworkers.There is no pretense of feelings on her part, though Jack romanticizes the relationship - for Celeste, it is entirely about sex. Her non-stop fixation on sex borders on the pornographic. (This is not a book you will be inclined to loan out to people or recommend to friends.) Claire is a sociopath. She doesn't attempt to rationalize or pretend that her desires are something they aren't, nor does she attempt to elicit sympathy from the reader by blaming her predilections on past trauma, they just are what they are. She wants to dominate every situation, emotionally manipulating everyone in her life to cave to her needs, and she is matter of fact about it, from start to finish. Strikingly, Celeste speaks of no friends with whom she has an honest relationship. Every single one of the few relationships she has is based on a lie. She shows no contrition for her deviancy, nor does she make any attempt to control it.Through straightforward, graphic prose and a well-developed female antagonist that will remind you of [b:Gone Girl 21480930 Gone Girl Gillian Flynn https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1406511734s/21480930.jpg 13306276], Nutting has given us an American Psycho-esque look into the mind of a predator. While I'm not sure I liked it, I'm glad I read it.

Written by a resident of New Orleans and a professor of history at Tulane University, this book covers the entirety of Hurricane Katrina - from when it is first spotted by the NWS to the moment the final evacuees leave the city - from numerous perspectives. Brinkley's interviews with the surviving citizens enables him to tell the story from their perspectives, describing the horror of the event from the ground up. Brinkley also describes the failures in government at every level, from President Bush's failure to oversee FEMA to Mayor Nagin hiding in a hotel to New Orleans police officers skipping town in stolen SUVs.

This book was really good. It was an eye-opening look at an event that I thought I was familiar with since I lived through the news coverage of it. After reading this book, I realized I didn't know the half of it. It's full of details and interviews which, while interesting, certainly make for some slow reading. I'd recommend it for someone looking for really comprehensive coverage of the event but not to someone looking for a light read.

Horrorstor was an unexpectedly traditional horror story wrapped in a fun, quirky exterior. Amy, the protagonist, works at a new branch of Orsk, a giant, trendy furniture store that is a spot-on parody of Ikea. Despite the upbeat culture and the vibrant interior, this branch is riddled with problems. Vandalism is occurring during non-store hours, employees are receiving disturbing but untraceable text messages, and corporate is starting to become concerned. Amy's store manager assembles a small team of staff, Amy included, to stay after closing and help investigate. Much hilarity - and terror - ensues.

The book itself is fun, dressed to look like a store catalog. Each chapter heading includes a product description and image of the item. The parody of Ikea is spot on, from the jokes about missing parts and flat packs, to the “bright and shining” path running through the store for customers to follow. The fun, parodic exterior, however, should not lead a reader to believe that the horror is also fun. The story quickly takes a turn with a seance that doesn't go quite as planned, and the team of employees find themselves in a battle for survival as they try to escape.

This book was so bad I'm at a loss for words. The characters were poorly developed and little better than stereotypes, the plot was a jumbled mess, and the ending was nonsensical. I was tempted to abandon this book half way through and, in retrospect, I wish I had.

(I was given a copy of this book from Gallery Books in exchange for an honest review.)

I'm not entirely sure where to start with this review, because I almost didn't finish the book. At 240 pages it was a quick read, which was an incredibly good thing. Had it taken more than two or three hours to read this book, I would have put it down. I was looking forward to a sweet, touching book about women supporting each other through their friendships, and instead I got a ridiculous, scrambled book about women acting like mean middle school girls.

The characters were flat, cardboard people that Siddons apparently couldn't be bothered to develop. Until one of the characters began acting erratic and a major life event was revealed about halfway through the book, I honestly kept confusing two of the characters because there was so little depth to either of their characters. What Siddons did reveal about their personalities through their behaviors was so hateful and mean that I couldn't imagine she was writing about characters she liked. Grown women were catty, sarcastic, and downright cruel and bullying to one another. Apparently this was because some of them were “going through things.” I didn't find this in the least bit believable.

The writing was painfully simple and uninspired. These women were vacationing on a beautiful semi-private island off the coast of South Carolina and Siddons spent more time describing the decor of the house and the details of their food than the supposedly beautiful locale. The story itself was jumbled and made no sense. The women spend most of their trip bitching, sniping, and being generally unfriendly to the new wife and eventually even to each other. Accusations of assault, sabotage, and affairs abound, and in the end...well, the ending came out of no where and made absolutely no sense. When the bomb was dropped regarding a major event in the life of one of the women...I hardly paused in my reading. There was so little build up to the announcement that I couldn't bring myself to care. That, to me, is the sign of an unsuccessful book.

(I received a copy of this book from Grand Central Publishing in exchange for an honest review.)

Jonah Kirk, now in his late-50's, is telling the gripping story of a very important time in his young life. Koontz is in his element here, weaving a story that is lyrical to read, though it takes some time to wade through. The plot moves slowly, almost luxuriously so, because Koontz is so descriptive, taking his time to make sure you can visualize every bit of Jonah's city. The city almost becomes a character itself due to Koontz vivid descriptions of its people, it's art, and it's architecture. Koontz explores the idea of a city having a soul, as personified by “Pearl”, the mysterious woman who teaches Jonah to interpret his dreams.

This novel was as much a character study as it was the coming-of-age of Jonah. The character development of the “good guy” characters - Kirk's family and friends - was rich and expansive. Disappointingly, however, the “bad guy” characters felt one-dimensional and a bit stereotypical. The characters sometimes felt as though they were being used to explore themes and not carry the story themselves. Jonah's relationship (or lack of one) with his father, his dedication to his mother, his friendship with the quietly formidable Mr. Yoshioka, and his love of Amelia Pomerantz all felt as though they were just as important to the story as the plot itself. When Koontz allowed the characters to shine on the page, the story was wonderful to read. Unfortunately, sometimes too much space passed between these glimpses of brilliance.

My problem with this novel was perhaps in my expectations. I am a long-time fan of Koontz's novels because they're usually such page turners. An interesting main character, an intriguing premise, a whole lot of suspense, and a thrilling conclusion. While The City definitely had an interesting main character, it was missing everything else. It was by far a more philosophical novel than I'm used to from Koontz, and as a result it sometimes felt like work to read. In the end, The City was a good book I just couldn't get into.

(I received a copy of this book from Bantam Books in exchange for an honest review.)

“If you refuse to believe me, I will no longer consider you my son.”

The Farm is a quick, engrossing read, the kind of book you'll want to finish in one sitting. Short chapters end in cliffhangers, resulting in a story that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Descriptions of the stark Swedish countryside, of hunting mushrooms in the forest, and of creeping around the house of a neighbor come to life through Smith's expert voice. As well as bringing individual scenes to life, Smith also successfully conveys the suffocating isolation the residents of Chris & Tilde's new home feel, as though the location was a character itself.

The real-life events that inspired the events in this novel - the mental breakdown of Smith's mother - creates the ring of truth that makes this story so compelling. Tilde appears sane and reliable even as her story becomes less believable, moving farther into her suspicion and mythology. The reader experiences the same confusion and skepticism that Daniel does. The tension he feels in being asked to choose between his mother and his father is palpable to the reader, especially as he begins to realize that he does not know his parents as well as he had previously believed.

The Farm is a true psychological thriller. There are no car chases, shootouts, or dramatic last-minute rescues. At it's heart, it is about trust - how much do we really know about the people we love and who would we believe? This fast-paced novel is sure to please Smith's existing fans and gain him several new.

(I received a copy of this book from Grand Central Publishing for an honest review.)

Scott Murdoch is a member of a secret government agency, so secret that only a few in the country are aware of it's existence. After years of living in the shadows, Murdoch decides on retirement and writes a book on forensics as an act of closure. Instead of a quiet life off the grid in Paris, he finds himself drawn into a murder investigation at a seedy New York City hotel. The killer appears to have committed the perfect crime and then disappeared without a trace - all while using Murdoch's book as a how-to manual.

Soon he is pressed into service by high-ranking government officials, traveling to the Middle East in search of a lone wolf Saudi terrorist, with the fate of Western civilization hanging in the balance.

“The world doesn't change in front of your eyes; it changes behind your back.”

At 600+ pages and cover art that some might call dull, I Am Pilgrim did not immediately strike me as a “summer read,” the kind of page-turner I like to take on day trips to the lake. However, it didn't take more than the opening lines before I was hooked. Hayes has the somewhat dubious distinction of writing the first crime scene that I've excitedly read aloud to my husband over a glass of wine at night.

This book is a rare treat - a literary spy thriller that defies stereotype. Our hero is a young, but extremely accomplished, member of a secret government intelligence agency. The bad guy is a young, radical, Muslim terrorist, hellbent on the destruction of Western civilization. The novel is full of exciting chases, thrilling shootouts, and exotic locations. It does not, however, feel tired or overdone at any point. The book is a fresh take on the traditional spy novel. It's filled with enough twists and surprises to keep you on your toes. Hayes uses exciting side plots and character back stories to allow for some breathing room between tense scenes but these scenes are far from dull. On the contrary, they serve to flesh out his characters and bring them to life in a way that many suspense novels fail to do.

Though this is a debut for Hayes, his experience as a screenwriter results in an absorbing, action packed, heart-in-your-throat read. The pacing is perfect, building suspense in just the right spots and then unleashing the action in explosive bursts. Expertly delivered foreshadowing leaves you breathlessly awaiting the next surprise, the next twist. It's not difficult to imagine the blockbuster film this book will become.

In the end, this book is certainly a contender for best-of-the-year lists. It starts as a murder mystery, becomes a spy thriller, and ends up as one of the best books you'll read this year.

(I received a copy of this book from Atria Books in exchange for an honest review.)

Hundreds of unemployed citizens line up for a job fair in the early morning hours of a Midwest city. A stolen Mercedes plows through the unsuspecting crowd, driven by a lone driver in a clown mask. When the chaos is over, eight innocent people are dead and more than a dozen more are injured.

Retired police detective Bill Hodges spends his days watching talk shows, haunted by the unsolved cases he left behind. When a letter arrives claiming to be from the Mercedes Killer, he decides to investigate on his own instead of going to the police. In doing so, he must match wits with a crazed psychopath, for whom one murderous rampage was not enough.


“I'm going to kill you. You won't see me coming.”

Mr. Mercedes succeeds in hitting several of my favorite reading elements: a page-turning suspense thriller, well-developed, sympathetic characters, and a seriously creepy bad guy who got under my skin.

The telling of this story in the present tense, a departure from King's regular writing style, has the benefit of moving the narrative along at a rapid pace, which in turn heightened the race-against-the-clock feel for both Brady (the murderer) and Hodges and his crew.

At times the plot feels contrived, particularly the constant rationalization of why Hodges refuses to turn to the police for help even after it becomes clear that Brady is becoming unraveled. This, however, does nothing to diminish the suspense of the novel, as Hodges runs into roadblocks in his investigation and Brady grows more desperate and disorganized.

As usual, King's character development is unparalleled, with a connection being forged between the reader and characters that are only alive for ten pages. While on the surface some of the characters appear to be formulaic (the suicidal, retired detective, the brilliant tech-savvy young kid, the psychopathic maniac with mommy issues, etc.), King's development of these characters is still successful. They are sympathetic and accessible, with even Brady having his moment of sympathy (albeit a very, very brief one).

This book is classic King, probing the conflict between good and evil both within his characters and between them, though this time played out with purely human elements. Despite not being as strong a showing as his last few novels, this was a solid start to what will hopefully be an enjoyable trilogy.

This was an incredible example of reporting on a sensitive subject. I'd highly recommend it!

“If she never tells him, he will never really know them.”

Amaranth has taken her daughters and run - run from a man with fifty wives, a man who believes he is God, a man who has done unspeakable things to their daughter. When she stops, she must decide where her future lies in the now strange world in which she finds herself.

The picture painted by two sisters, bound together by a thin strip of white fabric, is a powerful image, and an appropriate opening to this novel. Written in an unusual writing style, the strong emotions felt by these characters was very vividly portrayed. The novel occasionally tended toward the sensationalist and at times felt overdone, but even those scenes packed a sincere emotional punch.

While Amity is excited by this world in which her path is not mapped out for her, Sorrow cannot accept a world in which she is not special or chosen by God for important work. Their conflict with each other, with their mother, and with the larger world is a striking one, and the reader can feel the sadness and the anger these two girls feel as they try to find their place.

I found the ending disappointing, but I'm not sure why. Was I hoping for a more solid resolution or simply a different end? I'm not sure. Overall, I'd say that the book was good, but not great, and I don't think I'd be giving it glowing recommendations to my friends.

Thea Atwell, 15, has been sent from her family home in Florida to attend a girls boarding school for the southern elite, one at which she will learn to become an accomplished horsewoman. Over the course of her stay, she learns to navigate this world filled with young women, much different from the isolated life she led at home with her parents and twin brother, while she recovers from a mysterious tragedy in which she has played a central role.

I had high hopes for YONAHLOSSEE after all of the rave reviews it received. It was described as spellbinding, lush, provocative, and smart. It even made Oprah's Summer Reading List.

Initially, I found the book a page turner. I was drawn into the vivid world DiSclafani described - first the hushed, sheltered world that Thea grew up in, and then the majestic wild of the mountains in which the camp is nestled. The social structure of the camp, with it's regional cliques and finishing school schedule (yes, French was a part of the curicculum) created a picture of life for wealthy young women on the verge of the Great Depression.

My problem with this novel, however, is simply how unlikable Thea is. When the reader is first introduced to Thea, she is a quiet girl, reluctant to leave her father's side. She is timid and shy but has a deep love for horses, and we are treated to hints about a family scandal that ruined her family's life back home in Floriday. As Thea becomes more acclimated to her life at the camp, she has to make choices about her relationships with the other girls, as well as with the adults in her life. She does not simply make bad choices of the kind you would attribute to a girl her age, but dangerous and disturbing choices that made me question the author's purpose for this character. Thea was also an extremely selfish character, which is to be expected at her age, but without a transformation into a young woman more cognizant of her situation in life, the novel's ending was weak, rushed, and ultimately disappointing.

In addition, the other characters were not well developed and felt like shallow stereotypes. Her brother was described as an animal lover with no other apparent characteristics. Sissy, Thea's friend at the camp, was a sweet girl that everyone liked but was sheltered and foolish. The adults are even worse - her parents are portrayed as having created a “progressive childhood,” but it is never explained why they kept their children so sheltered and separate, or if they had desires and hopes of their own.

In the end, this was a book I truly wanted to like, but just couldn't find much about it to enjoy.

(I received a free copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.)

“There's nothing most of us love more than a plausible lie.”

Amber Hewerdine can't sleep. She has suffered chronic insomnia since the death of her best friend in a mysterious house fire over a year ago. As a last resort, she decides to see a hypnotherapist for treatment and leaves in a hurry, disturbed by a phrase she utters while hypnotized - a phrase she at first assumes the therapist spoke first, but later realizes she has seen before. Soon after, Amber is arrested for the murder of a woman, and cannot clear her name until she remembers where she saw those words.

As with the previous novels in this series, Hannah focuses on developing her characters, allowing the reader to get inside their minds and fully understand their motivations, which in turn drives the plot. This results in a slightly meandering plot which can sometimes be confusing, but ultimately makes for a more compelling story (and series), since the reader never feels short-changed by having unanswered questions at the end. I especially enjoyed the insights of Amber's hypnotherapist, Ginny - they provided an interesting insight into Amber's memory and sleep issues, as well as occasionally bringing up a chilling question or observation that, on more than one occasion, led to an “aha!” moment for me in terms of the “whodunit” aspect of the plot. It was an interesting twist on the “unreliable narrator” idea, since Amber's memory is frequently not trustworthy, and her understanding of her motivations are frequently muddied by her biases regarding her current situation.

The fun in reading this novel, as well as the previous installments in the series, is following Simon Waterhouse as he follows a trail of disconnected clues to put together an incredible story to explain the novels central crime. Also, we get to spend some time with other less developed characters, including his unit chief, Sam, and his coworker, Gibbs. We also see what Charlie and Simon are like as a married couple, and get a peek into Charlie's sister Oliva's life.

As with all of Hannah's novels, the plot is twisting and dark, and sometimes feels convoluted. I enjoy this aspect - I've never yet been able to predict an outcome in one of her novels, not because they're not plausible, but because - like in a real investigation - there's a tremendous amount of information evidence to sift through before reaching the truth. For readers that might find these novels confusing, I would recommend reading them in several large sittings if at all possible. These are not books to read casually over the course of several weeks. Overall, this was a great installment in the series and I highly recommend it to fans of Hannah's, and I can't wait to read the next.

(I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for a review.)

“Assume nothing, believe nobody, check everything.”

Thirty-one-year-old Felicity Benson is an insecure television producer who is surprised when her boss, film-maker legend Laurie Nattrass, hands her his pet project, a documentary detailing the stories of women who were falsely accused of murdering their children, and announces his retirement. As Felicity begins interviewing these mothers, she receives a strange item in the mail - a card containing 16 numbers, arranged in a tidy grid. Soon she discovers the police are investigating crimes related to two women featured in the film who also received a card from the mysterious sender. One, assaulted on the street, the other, murdered in her own home.

This latest novel in the Spilling CID series by Sophie Hannah is my favorite so far. Hannah constructs a well-honed mystery with distinctive characters and sophisticated writing. DC Simon Waterhouse is once again pitted against his boss, “The Snowman”, who was the arresting officer in the case involving the murdered mother, and we get to watch their relationship deteriorate even further. This plot was an extremely straight forward murder mystery, avoiding some of the confusing twists present in her previous novels. However, in true form, Hannah keeps the reader guessing until the shocking and unforgettable ending.

Review to follow...

Susan Randy Meyer's newest novel, The Comfort of Lies, revolves around the conception, birth, and adoption of a little girl, and the effect this has on the women it impacts.

Though the heart of the story is the drama that unfolds around the discovery of a child that was the product of an affair, the real power of The Comfort of Lies is its examination of motherhood as portrayed by the three female protagonists. Is Tia's decision to give her daughter up for adoption because of the pain she felt at her lover's abandonment a commendable sacrifice or selfish? Does Caroline's honest assessment of her unhappiness in motherhood make her a bad mother, and is this compounded by the fact that her child is adopted? Is Juliette's connection to this child legitimate, and to what extent should she expect involvement in the life of the child her husband abandoned? These questions are left up to the reader to answer, though Meyers paints a sympathetic view of all of the characters, sometimes to a fault.

The writing was unremarkable and the story felt predictable, both in the resolution and the behavior of the characters. Not a single character was well-developed or particularly likable and, despite Meyers' attempts to make these women seem strong, the most important decisions in their lives are heavily influenced, albeit sometimes indirectly, by the men in their lives.

Overall, I found the realistic portrayal of infidelity and motherhood compelling enough to finish the novel, but I didn't feel much sympathy for or interest in the characters themselves. I'd recommend this book to someone who enjoys family dramas, perhaps, but not to someone looking for a book that packs a strong emotional punch.