This is my second read by Nguyen Phan Que Mai. I absolutely loved The Mountains Sing and had heard this one was even better, so I dove right in without even reading the synopsis.

During the Vietnam War, many American soldiers slept with Vietnamese women and then left, often leaving them pregnant. The mixed-race children who were left behind were called Amerasians. These children faced discrimination, teasing, and horrible insults because many Vietnamese people still hated Americans. One of the names they were called was “Dust Children.”

Many of these children spent their entire lives trying to locate their fathers. And on rare occasions, there were American soldiers trying to locate the children they had abandoned.

Dust Child takes place between 1969 and 2016 and follows three interconnected POVs.

First, we meet Phong, a half-Black, half-Vietnamese man who is desperately searching for his Black American father who resides in the United States.

Next, we follow 18-year-old Trang (Kim) and her 17-year-old sister, Quynh. The two sisters are trying to earn money for their parents by working as “bar girls,” which, of course, involves prostituting themselves to American soldiers.

Finally, we follow Dan, a white American soldier who returns to Vietnam in 2016 searching for the child he abandoned during the war.

I really enjoyed this book. I wasn’t expecting any Black American representation, and then suddenly, boom, we’re in here too. This author is an incredible writer. I immersive read this book, and I highly recommend experiencing it the same way. It was deeply thought-provoking for me and an easy five stars.

Shen Tao did her thing with this one. It had me locked in. Five stars! Keep in mind that she’s a debut author. I rarely read fantasy, but since three of my favorite mutuals were raving about it (Claude, Dre Reads, and Smitty), I decided to give it a try. And yes, they were spot on!

This is not a romantasy, and it’s definitely not predictable. There are dragons, and this book will take your emotions all over the place!

The Poet Empress is a dark fantasy about a teenage girl named Wei Yin who lives in a small town within a large kingdom. Her town is poor, and her family is struggling financially. In an attempt to help out her family, Wei enters a selection competition to become a concubine for the crown prince.

The whole time, there are rumors that the prince is a cruel and horrible person. Wei has to decide if the benefits of being with the prince will outweigh the consequences. Keep in mind that people are competing not only to become the next emperor, but also the next empress. Everyone in the kingdom is shiesty and lowdown. You can’t trust anyone.

There’s also a magic system that’s easy to understand. The characters basically have to write poems to cast spells.

This book kept me on the edge of my seat, and the ending is straight fire. I loved this book! Check the trigger warnings because this story has a lot going on.

I’m so glad I finally got to read this book.

The setting is the year 2023 in a fictional town (Padua Beach) down south in the Florida Panhandle. Down South is where many people send their pregnant girls. This book focuses on the POVs of three of them.

First, we have Simone, an African American 20-year-old who was kicked out of her parents’ home when she was 16 because she got pregnant. She now lives in the back of her boyfriend’s truck with her twin 4-year-old daughters. She’s like a big sister to a group of other girls who are in similar situations.

Next, we have Emory. She’s a 17-year-old high school Caucasian girl with a newborn. She lives with her grandparents, and they prohibit her boyfriend from entering their home. You can probably figure out why.

And finally, we meet Adela, a mixed-race pregnant 16-year-old from a wealthy family. Her parents sent her from Indiana to live with her grandparents until she had the baby. Apparently she was “embarrassing” the family.

There are other girls in this book, but the story mainly focuses on those three. The chapters are also divided by POV, which I enjoyed.

After being abandoned, all these girls have is each other. This was a good read about sisterhood and watching them band together in a world that does not have their best interests at heart.

You may ask yourself, “Why the hell are you reading a book about pregnant teenage girls?” First, mind your damn business. I don’t like your attitude. And second, I enjoy learning about different situations people go through in life. Pregnant teenagers are a new topic for me to explore in books.

It really bothers me that parents will throw their own children out onto the streets because they got pregnant. That’s a problem. Who throws away their children and grandchildren?

I kept thinking about my wife and I situation. We were both 20 years old when she became pregnant with our first child. Although it was rough, I can’t imagine her trying to navigate that alone. It’s a cold world out there, and I’m grateful we had each other.

I immersive-read this one and enjoyed the hell out of it.

That’s two books in a row I’ve read with horrible parents. (The Darkest Child.)

The Darkest Child is a historical fiction novel that gives readers a look into a Black family during the Jim Crow era. We get to witness firsthand the effects Jim Crow had on the Quinn family. But instead of seeing it through the mother’s eyes, we get the POV of one of her children.

Rozelle Quinn is the worst character I’ve ever read in a book. She’s light-skinned and can pass as white. She has ten children, all by different men. And although she’s horrible to all of them, she targets the darker-skinned children the most. The more I read, the more disgusted I became with her.

Tangy Mae is our main character, and the story is told from her POV. She’s 13 years old, smart, and just happens to be the darkest child in the family. Tangy Mae endures extreme abuse while also trying to stay in school.

The story takes place in Georgia during the 1950s, in the middle of the Jim Crow era. This is a difficult read, so I advise checking your triggers beforehand. The book tackles mental illness, racism, abuse (mental, physical, and sexual), murder, and more. It’s not just one or two awful scenes; this book is raw and will leave you with your jaw on the floor.

I’m glad I read it. It’s a story I needed to experience. I immersive-read it, and the narrator (Bahni Turpin) did an amazing job. She’s probably the reason I kept going. I will never forget the Quinn family. Unfortunately, the author passed away while writing book two. The audiobook includes a few chapters from book two, but the physical copy I had did not.

There were a couple of things I didn’t like, but I’m not sure this story could have been told without them, so I’m okay with it. One issue was that there were too many characters, which made it difficult to keep up at times. But again, Rozelle had ten children, so how else could you write that? There’s no point in going into anything else. This book hurt my heart, and I’m only recommending it to people strong enough for a gut punch.

I owned this book for about a year and finally had time to read it. I’m actually glad I did. And after hearing about the lawsuit, it all makes sense now.

This book is about a perfect, goody-two-shoes, privileged woman who does everything just right. She hates men, then suddenly meets the “perfect” man. They have “perfect” children and become the “perfect” family. Her husband ends up taking illegal drugs (ecstasy) in what they call a controlled therapeutic environment (MDMA). The FDA does not approve it, but he convinces his wife to try it anyway.

While under the influence, she experiences vivid “memories” of being violently sexually assaulted for years, starting in middle school by a teacher. Suddenly, everything clicks, and she believes she now remembers why she hates men. The rest of the book focuses on her trying to gain sympathy and positioning herself not only as a victim of sexual assault but as its poster child. She becomes frustrated with law enforcement when they can’t make an arrest in this case for obvious reasons. Example: The statute of limitations and the fact that she was high on illegal drugs.

As you can probably tell, I absolutely hated this book. I’ve been working sexual assault cases for seventeen years, and this comes across as deeply unrealistic.

On top of that, her friend in the book (Claudia) is now suing her in real life. Claudia (referred to as Jane Doe) claims the author hired investigators to pose as people interested in purchasing her story for a movie. They allegedly recorded multiple phone interviews and attempted to arrange an in-person meeting to sign paperwork, which raises obvious questions about intent.

According to Jane Doe, she became suspicious after researching them and asking who they really were. They reportedly became defensive and cut off communication. She accuses the author of stealing her story and then hiring a ghostwriter to tell it.

To me, this book reads like someone who hasn’t experienced these events but is trying to center themselves in a narrative for attention. Adding to that, she and her husband reportedly have financial interests tied to MDMA, which makes the situation feel even more questionable.

People also allege that money went to high-profile individuals such as Oprah Winfrey, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Reese Witherspoon. Most likely to help push this book, but this is all speculative.

If any of this is true, it’s deeply troubling. It undermines real survivors of sexual assault and trivializes their experiences.

Oprah, this is strike three: A Million Little Pieces, American Dirt, and now The Tell. No more book recommendations from you.

Minus two stars.

I picked up both the audiobook and the physical copy because I was ready for answers about what happened to my favorite rapper, Tupac.

It started off strong, revisiting the night of the shooting, but that quickly shifted into bragging about himself. I’m talking full-blown arrogance.

He goes into more detail about the murder, then circles right back to comparing himself to the Barack Obama of the streets. Basically, he paints himself as the only real gangster while everyone else is fake.

Oh, and I don’t want to forget, he claims to hate snitches, but admits to doing exactly that for two decades.

And the worst part is that I can’t even tell if he’s lying or not.

Ultimately, his overwhelming ego made this a frustrating read. I did not enjoy this book.

JR Mason did not come to play with this series. What an incredible ending! I rarely binge series back-to-back, but the second I finished book two, I immediately started book three. No hesitation.

This one wastes no time and goes straight for the jugular. The twists, turns, and action were on point. And I don’t care what she says, I need another book immediately.

I immersive read the entire series, and honestly, it should be illegal not to listen to anything she narrates. While the entire series is phenomenal, book three takes the top spot for me. This book pulled me all the way back into the genre.

Do yourself a favor and just read it.

Wow, I was wondering if the author could top book one, and yes, she absolutely did. We’re once again following the Pittsburgh Violent Crime Unit as they try to arrest one of the most heinous serial killers they’ve ever encountered.

In this installment, it appears as if justice has been served, and the citizens are in the middle of recovering. Suddenly, there’s another victim. Law enforcement must now determine whether they suspected the wrong person or if a copycat is responsible.

If you’re a fan of Law & Order or Criminal Minds, then this one is for you. I’m having a lot of fun with this series, and the narration is top tier. To avoid spoiling anything, I won’t say more. I will say, though, I’m a little disappointed I had to stop reading book three just to write this review for book two. So I’ll leave you with this: read the damn series, you won’t be disappointed.

Brandy really laid it all out in this memoir. I had it preordered because I just knew she was going to reveal things we hadn’t heard before, and she did not disappoint. This book is raw, detailed, and filled with a few shocking, “WTF” moments.

Apparently, I knew nothing about her. I spent most of the book reading with a surprised look on my face. We learn about her childhood, her rise to superstardom, and all the good, and terrible things that followed.

I admired her resilience and the way she tried to remain respectful to people who didn’t extend that same grace to her. Some of my favorite moments included hearing about her close bond with her brother, Ray J, her disclosure about being taken advantage of as a teenager by an adult superstar, her interactions with Aaliyah and Monica, plus a few other things I won’t spoil. I was completely immersed, and experiencing it alongside her narration made it even better.

That said, I didn’t like that she only portrayed her brother in a positive light. Over the years, we’ve seen him embarrass both himself and her, and I wanted more honesty about that. He felt too protected. She also came across as a bit too “Miss Goody Two-Shoes.” There have been plenty of stories circulating about her being conniving or difficult with others. Names like Foxy Brown, Adina Howard, and Shyne come to mind. I expected more transparency. Hopefully, Ray J will tell his story one day.

This is hands down one of the best books I’ve ever read. The Mountains Sing is a Vietnamese historical fiction novel that I absolutely needed. I try my best to read diversely, and this one left me thoroughly impressed.

We follow four generations of the Tran family, told from two perspectives: Dieu Lan and her granddaughter, Huong. What the grandmother goes through is heartbreaking. The writing is so well done that you feel as if you’re there.

During the post World War II era, Japan was wreaking havoc in North Vietnam. The grandmother had to flee with her five children. While being responsible for their safety, she’s forced to make terrible but understandable decisions.

Years later, she again has to survive a war, but this time it’s the Resistance War against America (the Vietnam War), with her granddaughter, Huong. Huong also endures a lot, leading me to become emotionally attached to her character and reflect on the violence the Vietnamese people suffered throughout the 20th century.

The story goes back and forth between the two POVs. I initially thought I would hate that, but I didn’t. I actually enjoyed it.

This book not only shows how terrible war is but also what it looks like from the receiving end of American and Japanese weapons.

This book contains extremely triggering content, so if you decide to read it, bring out the Kleenex. It’s a page-turning, beautiful, heartbreaking tearjerker, and I loved it. I learned a lot from this history lesson, and I’m thirsty for more. I just picked up Dust Child by this author, and I’m jumping right in.