Lisbeth Ivies

The last of my makeshift trilogy for Around the Year in 52, Wintour's Leap helped create a second positive bookend. Almost creating a sandwich for what was probably my least enjoyable read for the prompts for 2023 so far. If you are curious, that would be The Pomegranate, which just didn't really hit the mark with me. I will say that I expected a bit more time travel from this novel given the blurb, but I truly did enjoy the overall work.

Starting in the 17th century, the pacing and expository character chosen ended up being more in line with a murder mystery novel than a drama. Especially one where the main characters, at least in the modern contingents of the story, are all in their early teens. This is one of the only weaknesses of the book. The reader's feelings toward characters or their overall connection to the story is finite not infinite. A type of emotional capital. Don't use a large amount of that capital toward the beginning on characters who will not be a large part of the story after. Because if you do that, you've used up so much of the pool with little to no gain from it.

The majority of the story happens in more modern times after the period opening. It plays into one of my favorite tropes in young adult stories: budding friendship between two seemingly opposite characters. The jock whose drive is to perfect themselves physically, competing with others on a pitch or field or court. And, the academic focusing more on the cerebral pursuits to push their mind to its limits. Even though Wintour's Leap did have one of my favorites, it contained one of my pet peeves. Having a photographic memory is impossible and even a eidetic one is extremely rare, yet so, so many novels have their smarter characters almost magically possess this gift. At least here it was useful and a part of the story, but I always do question how often it crops up in stories.

Although pacing made the novel drag a little in the middle, I was invested enough in the characters to keep going. I recommend this title to readers who enjoy learning a little bit of history in their young adult mysteries. I personally found a few of the details fascinating and had never really given much thought to what happens after you find treasure. Maybe that in itself makes Wintour's Leap its own sort of treasure.

From Left Behind to The Leftovers and beyond, stories that feature a slate of mysterious disappearances and/or deaths have always fascinated me. The promise of the blurb that it isn't the two main culprits, a religious rapture or mass alien abduction, dragged me in. And for the most part, Hearts of Aphra did deliver on that promise pretty well.

Largely set in a small town in Arizona, a mayor trying to oust her to pave the way for nefarious schemes seems the least of the sheriff's worries. Then, a blinding light and blaring siren in the early hours of the morning land her in one of the worst situations imaginable. Almost 20% of the population dies in an instant, both the bodies themselves and the survivors separate and escalating problems. The who, the why, and the how this happens drives both characters and story.

An ensemble cast with multiple points of view that rotate with each chapter, a few of the supporting POV characters were a bit weaker than others. Many of the more main characters do make up for this in the long run, driving the narrative and making us care as the stakes ratchet higher. My favorites from the story are some of the best I've read in recent history, but I did find one character (and not the grifter mayor) hard to sympathize with. It sat strangely with me that he seems to get rewarded for some truly awful behavior and is the vehicle for readers finally learning many of the answers surrounding the central questions driving the plot.

There were a few continuity errors, as well as some slower pacing in the middle, that stemmed from juggling so many POV characters. A few explanations happen in full detail for the reader multiple times as they are relayed around town. Issues with scope and dangling threads also pulled me out of the story at points.

Readers intrigued by stories of mass disappearances or deaths will enjoy Hearts of Aphra. The answers, once reached, are rather unique to anything else I've read in the genre. A strong beginning and strong ending make the middle journey worth it.

I wouldn't have picked up The Pomegranate if it wasn't for 2023 Around the Year in 52 Books Challenge, one of the main reasons I wanted to participate so much. Read what you wouldn't automatically be reaching for. Challenge yourself! Historical fiction, while something I enjoy, often seems daunting because novels of the genre run longer on average and feature dialects that can be hard to read. The near 700 page-count on this one almost prevented me from choosing it from the beginning. However, the fruit featured on both the cover and in the title has some sentimental ties, changing my mind.

Batsheva, or Vashi, or Elizabeth, or Bess (the protagonist of many names) provides the primary lense through which the reader views this 12th century tale. Set against the backdrop of the crusades, the main story happens mostly adjacent to that instead of being the main focus. Strong-willed with a well-rounded education, Batsheva is styled to have quite a bit more agency than most women of her time. Which makes my biggest issue with this novel stand out in even greater contrast: How little agency she seems to have in the matters of her own heart.

I admit that I've never been a huge fan of love triangles, but will usually enjoy a work despite having one. The Pomegranate has one of the worst love triangles I can remember reading, though. For the concept to work, the legs need to be balanced or have some merit. One of the legs here was started and perpetuated at least at the start by rape (which was not a content warning and is pretty graphic) and includes nonconsensual drug use as well. Unless we're talking about dark romance or fiction, it's hard for me to support or be a fan of romantic relationships that keep abusers with those they abuse. Especially if they seem to celebrate those relationships.

The strength of the main character kept me reading even if her strength made it seem even less credible with some of the issues listed above. Despite my own reactions, the quality of the writing was high. Readers who are looking for a female-centered historical fiction with darker elements should still find something to enjoy.

While this review is for Captive, the sixth installment of R. N. Jayne's Master series, it's impossible not to mention the entire line as a whole. Just as it's impossible to understand what's really going on in this one if you haven't read what's come before. I do recommend the investment of time if your guilty pleasure includes dark fantasy and vampires acting like the true apex predators they were first whispered to be. Just expect there to be quite a bit of emphasis placed on the guilty part of that pleasure with this series.

Justus, the vampire “Master” that most closely operates as the villain, is anything but just. Old, powerful, and utterly depraved, please pay attention to the warnings the author includes with every novel. Explicit sexual assault, gory violence, and drug abuse are all recurring themes. What isn't listed though, is that there is also quite a bit of psychological abuse as well. Not all puppet-masters need physical strings to do the controlling.

If those warnings don't put you off, what you get is a well-crafted tale that gets largely stronger from beginning to end. The first few novels jump back and forth from chapter to chapter, past to present which isn't a personal preference of mine. But even with that, I felt the overall works were cohesive. Character arcs, especially two in particular, are beautifully done. Despite the narrative sometimes skirting close to my own limits, I hope to read the conclusion in the next installment just because of those two characters.

Every series has a few dips and rises in quality, especially one that's six books in. The first was the rockiest in my opinion, but I still would have considered it worth reading even without it being the series starter. In fact, I'd rank all of the Master series at that level or higher` with Captive being the strongest so far.The writing is beautiful and descriptive, making some of the more depraved content that much more so. Only a few issues with one character and a spattering of errors kept this from being a must read for me.

I continue to appreciate the unique fantasy elements in the newest installment of the Weirdwater series. The staples of swords and dragons from the genre don't feature, but the world that author Dani Finn is able to build still feels very much fantastical. The World Within also incorporates many elements of steampunk, and not just in the form of an “olli,” an in universe and sometimes vibrating sex toy.

Continuing on after Unpainted, the story can be read as both a stand alone or as part of the larger series. The title shares a name with the new business returning characters have opened. Though, business doesn't really do the complex they've built justice. High end sex shop meets consultation and education meets mind and body health spa. The location features so prominently, it's almost like another character. It also serves as the impetus behind the romantic leads of the story first meeting.

I very much enjoyed reading the books that came before this one in the series, but I think I would have enjoyed reading The World Within more as a stand alone. Enough detail and world building is given that fresh readers shouldn't be confused joining with this as the first chapter. As a returning reader though, I felt that some of the continuing characters didn't completely match up with themselves in the new story. Some of the terminology also seemed to change a bit from one novel to the next.

Rich description and immersive world building continue to be highlights of the Weirdwater series. In a way, it's almost too good because when the veneer slips even a little, it's made more apparent by comparison. A few modern colloquialisms slip in with this one that I don't remember happening much in the previous novels. This and a personal preference for romances that don't seem like instant love also contributed to my rating.

Readers looking for a high spice story involving fantasy elements with LGBTQ+ characters will enjoy The World Within. If fantasy only involves high, world-ending stakes and sword slinging, this isn't the read for you. Compelling characters, a sweet romance, and a lavish world make this a book worth grabbing!

A revenge story morphs into a wider-scope thriller as That Was Then explores some of the shadier sides of politics with a fictional lens. Identical twins had largely done everything possible together until college, the wedge of separation only growing bigger after a terrible thing happens to one. Even as the novel increases in scope, it's that bond between the sisters and a few of the supporting characters willing to actually support them who ground the narrative.

The author drops the reader into the deep end from the start, with a very visceral portrayal of the aftermath of a rape. It's rough, especially with the first person point of view, but is honestly one of the best depictions I've ever seen or read covering the immediate issues after such a life-changing event. Unfortunately mirroring what happens all too often, she doesn't seek help outside some family or press charges and even lies to cover things up due to threats. Eight years later, she's in a better mindset to do something more.

That Was Then starts and spends most of its time in first person from Andrea's perspective. For the rest, there are two different third-person limited viewpoints used as well: that of her twin, and of her rapist. The latter one's inclusion did impact why I rated this novel the way I did, for three reasons. Some of his chapters are a lot more intimate than I'd want to get with someone who did what he did. At times, those chapters felt like the story was trying to make him feel relatable or even attempt to excuse a little bit what he did. Ultimately though, the scenes from his point of view didn't really add to the suspense but detracted, also turning shadow movers in the political machine into something cartoonish.

A few other issues kept this from being a higher rating as well. Time skips were often buried within larger portions of text and easy to miss. The overlapping points of view led to some redundancy, down to even the wording, and suffered on continuity a few times. While not plentiful, there were also enough typos in key parts of the story to interrupt flow.

Andrea's journey and the emotional connection the author is able to build with that character from chapter one made me invested enough to weather through until the end. Despite some problems I personally had with the narrative, the payoff was definitely worth it. Readers who enjoy thrillers, especially ones with a political flavor, will find That Was Then well worth reading.

Second Wind is one of those books you want to read on a cold winter's day with warm socks and a hot cup of tea. It reads as both cozy and intimate, and I wish I could have spent more time with this one. Set in a picturesque small town, this is an easy, feel-good type of romance with two people meeting at just the right time.

The two leads could probably carry the story alone, but there are quite a few memorable characters supporting them as well. Each one felt unique and real, which is hard to do considering this novella comes in just under 100 pages. In particular, the sister of one of the leads and the daughter of the other helped to flesh out the world in the novel.

Going in, I was worried that I wouldn't like some aspects because a good portrayal of a transgender person, especially in a romantic lead, is often hard to find. I shouldn't have, though. The author does a fantastic job with that character and with how other characters interact with him. The only criticism I could offer at all in this arena would be that the world might be a little too idealistic to match the current state of things. But then the novella wouldn't have that melt-in-your-mouth charm that it does have.

Errors are typos are the main reason I didn't give Second Wind the highest rating. This is mostly in the form of missing or misused words and punctuation issues. It wasn't egregious, but it was enough to be noticeable.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

The prime directive from Star Trek meets The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin. Bound by law, duty, and personal ambition the main character doesn't really much care about the alien race he's been assigned to watch and document die. Until he meets them.

Normally hidden behind an invisible shield, the government sees no real harm in establishing a connection with the alien race A.T. Sayre has cleverly crafted in the novel. They will be extinct soon enough. However, it would be impossible for almost anyone to switch from watching to interacting with a dying people and not be affected. Especially if those people were just as good as the title suggests.

Written from the perspective of one of the newer members assigned to watch and wait through the extinction-level event, I suspect most readers will feel the same building emotions the protagonist does. The transition from dry words on a report to living, breathing aliens with a distinct culture for both Warin and for us readers is expertly done.

This one will stick with you, but it does take a while to get there. After a somewhat rough start and an out-of-place romantic connection, the novel eventually blossoms into something both profound and morbidly beautiful.

With spooky season pretty much upon us, that means I had to read at least one horror and/or zombie novel to commemorate. I'm happy I chose Furies Rising to be my commemorative title for the season. A refreshing take on some of the more tired tropes of the genre, this is a rare series starter as well. The closest comparison I can draw would be from movies instead of literature: Red Dawn meets Land of the Dead.

I might not have realized quite as much while reading (because it blended in so well), but the author's choice of setting was both crucial and masterful. From the skills the main characters possess to how they strategize to try and survive, the plot stays more practical than not. And, largely because of the setting choices. Where our main characters are at the onset, and everywhere they aim to go after, drive the story forward.

The mainstay of the genre does remain: a ragtag group of survivors banding together but slowly dwindling as they face an overwhelming hoard of brainless reanimated corpses. What elevates that mainstay are two things. One, that band of survivors acts smart, has the tools and resources to do more than just hole up somewhere and wait out the apocalypse, and for the most part, plans for the good of the whole. Two, these aren't just zombies but Furies. Seemingly driven by both hunger and rage, some can talk and even direct other members of the hoard. The why and how offer a subplot of mystery to support the overarching survival one.

As much as I enjoyed Furies Rising, the read wasn't all smooth sailing, particularly in the first third. A crush of one brother on the elder's girlfriend leads to some unsettling internal machinations. These thankfully get dialed back eventually, but they directly impacted the character's likability for me. Scenes with a larger cast of characters can sometimes be bogged down by the description. There is also an underlying chosen one thread here, which is not a personal favorite.

One of the better novels of the genre I've read in recent years, I do highly recommend Furies Rising to readers who enjoy a good zombie apocalypse. The still normal humans are more decent and more resourceful than most, making them largely quite easy to rally behind.

Dystopian novels are arguably my favorite subsection of speculative fiction. There's hardly a larger fire that characters can be thrown into than the end of the world or its aftermath. Unlike many in the genre, One Is None focuses almost exclusively on the aftermath. Only a few well-placed flashbacks feature anything that came before. What also makes author Mark Nihlean's novel unique is that he isn't afraid to make his main characters unlikable.

Most of the adult cast are what I'd describe as being on the fringes of society. Radicals, conspiracy theorists, and “believers” make up large portions of the new population. Not something I often see in literature, this makes sense in reality. The swaths of people most likely to hunker underground for 100+ days without warning and have a place to do so aren't considerably mainstream. That devotion to realism stretches from characters to settings and situations as well, all described remarkably well.

As much as I did enjoy the storylines of the younger members of the main family we follow, I felt there was a disconnect between purported ages and how the characters read. I think the age was kept artificially lower for one character in particular to increase the shock value of certain elements. However, the writing was both visceral and compelling enough throughout most of the novel that such a tactic wasn't really needed.

I fully admit that I was the donkey chasing the carrot throughout One Is None. Hooked in by the premise and the spectacle, I was ravenous for answers to questions many dystopian novels resolve from the beginning. Although I personally would have liked to see more of those questions have answers, I'd still very willingly follow that carrot into a sequel if the author chose to write one.

The author provides trigger warnings for a reason. This isn't a sanitized theme park type of dystopian. But if you think you'll enjoy a darker look at what life would look like after the restrictions of civilization fall and the type of people most likely to survive, I suggest reading One Is None.

One of my main goals each time I read nonfiction is to learn something new. With The Self-Publisher's Amazon Playbook, I felt like I met that goal with near every page. I did initially believe the scope was larger, but I should have paid more attention to the subtitle: “The author's manual to crafting amazon book listings that sell.” The material definitely delivers on that narrower focus, with the expectation readers are already familiar with the technical use of the Amazon publishing platform.

The author, Jane Tabachnick, breaks down each element of a book listing, providing key insight into what they are, why they matter, and how to create that section with the highest impact. Before reading, I would have thought I was rather familiar with most of what goes into a great book listing. Even with that prior knowledge, I still learned so much with this read. The most valuable for me was informaiton given about optional section, A+ Content, and why it shouldn't be neglected.

When I read informational books, especially books based on how to write or how to sell your own writing, I find myself inevitably falling into a critical trap. Does this book or this author practice what's being preached? If the advice and guidelines being offered aren't exemplified by the work itself, it calls into question how valid the insights are. For the most part, The Self-Publisher's Amazon Playbook does follow its own “plays.” However, the work does stray some, particularly when talking more about book matter versus the book listing itself.

Although the title and description don't make this very clear, this playbook is more geared toward nonfiction than fiction. I do think fiction writers can still glean valuable insight, but the majority of information presented leans into book listings and book matter for nonfiction works. Going into it with the right expectations, The Self-Publisher's Amazon Playbook should be required reading for any author ready to post their best book listing.

Some books can infuriate you, but you still can't look away or put them down. Past Crimes was like that for me. A vengeance story mixed with a time machine thriller, the novel centers on a young boy named Michael with an almost Batman-esque origin story. His parents are killed in front of him, except there is no strong adult figure like Alfred to help pick up the pieces afterward. The path his vengeance takes him on is also more cerebral than physical.

In its best moments, Past Crimes delves into the emotional landscape of a childhood derailed by the loss of one's parents so violently and the continuing disappointment of the killers never seeing justice. Michael remains a fascinating character throughout the novel, from boy to man to senior as he follows a hard path toward redemption not for himself but for his parents. Those glimpses of the protagonist's psyche, and how such a quest warps it over time, made the time travel elements more grounded.

The time machine and how it gets used here are much more unique than I had anticipated from the blurb. I don't think I've ever seen it applied in quite this way across any medium. Early on, Michael realizes he won't be able to actually save his parents, but he can at least do the next best thing. He and the team he builds around him know the rules and know the consequences for breaking those rules.

Despite my sometimes morbid fascination with the protagonist and the appreciation of a novel take on time travel, a few things kept me from rating it higher. Those rules that get explained multiple times and seem so hard set, the reason why the quest can't actually be full-on vengeance for Michael? They do get broken multiple times with seemingly no reaction. Those inconsistencies broke the immersion for me and were not ever addressed. I also can't say much without spoilers, but the introduction and treatment of one of the characters made the rest a bit harder to finish. It just played into some tropes that I personally don't like.

Past Crimes should appeal to a large audience of readers. A thrilling science fiction, I would be interested to see more of how time travel is applied here. I probably wouldn't want to see more of Michael, though.

Usually, the story goes rags to riches, not the other way around. Six Steps to Salvation not only inverts that cliche, but the novel goes one step further to make the protagonist focus on regaining riches that aren't just money. While redemption for a dethroned business mogul is the focus, satirical social commentary provides the rest. Homelessness, the “business” of charity, social media, and hustle culture all play a part.

Description and voice shine in this novel. Word choice and a few well-placed similes that could make me snort litter the prose. I was a little worried I would have problems relating to the protagonist at first. Both because of who he is, and because of what he's done prior to the beginning of the novel. The author does a fantastic job of bringing the reader in and hooking them, from the first chapter. Much like the main character used to hook his business targets.

The vast majority of Six Steps to Salvation is beautifully written and poignant, even with its crazy cast. Because of the near-perfection of some parts, the few flaws stand out considerably, and most often occur in the protagonist's back story. There can be some redundancies, not just in concept but in the same wording, and sometimes within a few sentences of each other. I also had trouble understanding one portion because the name for one character seemed to switch back and forth for a few pages.

I expected a little more satire from a novel with that claim in the subtitle on the cover. There are definitely a few scenes that seem more in line with my expectations, but overall, it was more tongue-in-cheek than I was used to. That isn't a bad thing. I genuinely enjoyed Six Steps to Salvation. As long as readers go in understanding that much of the satire is more subtle and clever than overt, they should have a good time.

Friendship is at the heart of Zaven, not the zombies. Four teenage boys start the first day of school only to have it end drastically different. A world tilting on its axis toward crazy. Relying on both resourcefulness and each other, they manage to shore up their defenses to ride things out.

Those connections between the main characters are the strongest parts of the novel. The interactions between each other, whether in supporting one another through the crisis or in having tempers understandably flare up, drove the story. Given how the boys were presented as a collective, their personalities could have easily been hard to distinguish from one another. The author does a good job with this though, making each character very distinctive. Both physically and otherwise.

Action scenes are also a highlight of Zaven, especially at the beginning, when the zombies are still new to the boys. The pace is fast but always with enough description to still picture what is going on. Quite a few parts reminded me of Mad Max, in terms of what and how the boys were able to approach the zombie hordes.

The zombies themselves were a bit hit or miss at times. What they could or couldn't do wasn't always consistent even given some things I can't dive into because of spoilers. Because of this lack of consistency, the threat level of the zombies just wasn't high enough to keep stakes up through large parts of the novel. It was almost like the shambling undead were there to be a comedic backdrop at points instead of true antagonists.

Even though I commended the relationship between the boys earlier, the dialogue between them at several points is one reason for the lower rating. I think the author didn't want to put a lot of key information in expository form (often called info dumping), but instead chose to disguise it as talking between characters. Unfortunately, this led to some lines that definitely didn't sound like sixteen-year-old boys talking to each other and pulled me out of the story.

Localization issues also kept making me stumble on my way through. The author is from Australia. The book is set in Florida. Especially since it is if from first-person point of view, the main character really needed to talk, sound, and think like an American teenager. He did not because of how many slang or colloquial terms were used. There were also quite a few errors scattered throughout, mostly missing words or tense issues.

What drove the rating down for me the most though was the gross portrayal of women. I almost closed the book and didn't keep reading after the boys encounter a zombie version of one of their classmates. A zombie who for some reason has her boobs out and bouncing around despite no other zombie seemingly being described as even partially naked. “It would have been nice if I had got to see them while she was alive. As now that they were blue, saggy and maggot infested, they didn't have the same appeal...” While that could be considered maybe just humor missing its mark with some audiences, there is an interaction toward the middle that should have had a trigger warning and didn't.

I can't dive in too much because of spoilers, but the boys run into a girl that they mistreat horribly. Even if there is nothing invasive done, it is still out and out sexual molestation. And the only reason it doesn't go further is because one of the boys is infatuated with her himself. Not enough to protect her by any means, but because he wants her all to himself. At least her lower half anyway. There are a few trains of thought the main character has that show he doesn't seem capable of out and out rape. Not enough to change this reader's perception though, especially when it makes what does happen seem acceptable by comparison.

Regardless of whatever the rest of the review or the rating say, Her Family Secrets is the best book I've read that I almost DNFed (did not finish) twice in the first chapter. Overall, the novel is a solid thriller from a debut author, and I'm happy I did end up reading through to the end.

Two points of view run mostly parallel to each other throughout the book. Colin is a well-respected doctor putting in countless hours to help bring new lives into the world. Owen, I hope it isn't too much of a spoiler to say, does the opposite. Both characters have voices that are very distinct from each other, which is always a big sticking point for me.

Both dialogue and prose for the most part are strong as well. The description is visceral and cinematic enough to the point I could picture virtually every scene easily. Because I was so drawn into the story by the writing style, the few implausibilities or issues jumped out more. The medical procedures at the clinic are described at length and seem well-researched, but are inconsistent with other medical terms used, especially when it comes to fertility issues experienced by the main couple. So much time and effort at the start is put into making Colin's insane schedule seem believable, both work and his...tastes, but those constraints don't seem to mean much at for most of the novel. Stronger focus and pacing to support the brilliance of the writing style would do wonders in the next story.

Despite the title being “Her” secrets, the dueling points of view are both men. The work as a whole is also surprisingly male-centric even though both Colin and his missing wife work in labor and delivery. Women are seen in a very poor light throughout, and the marriage isn't really a loving one for reasons. The age gap, one that gets described a little late, and I was honestly surprised by, only seems to perpetuate some of the problems for me. The first of the near DNFs is because of a line that happens in the middle of a dinner party: “The image of their dead baby floating in his wife's uterus flashed abruptly in his head.” It's abrupt for the reader too. Even more so when framed with the context that these miscarriages and fertility issues are almost all about Colin and not his wife. He does end up showing a little clarity at points, but they are few, far between, and never lasting.

The title is definitely right about one thing. Her Family Secrets holds more than just one. Almost no one in the main cast of this novel is completely innocent by design, but readers will still likely find at least one character to root for.

Having recently spent two weeks in Alaska and already wanting to find my way back there, the setting of Something in the Blood was a major draw. It's beautiful, remote, and dangerous. All great things when trying to stage one of the more enigmatic serial killers I've read about recently.

For a small town, Bloodrun has a pretty large cast of characters. With such a high number of named people, many surprised me by how well fleshed out they felt. I would have liked to see more from one arc in particular, but the characters were a highlight of the novel for me.

The writing style is more lyrical than I usually see in this genre, with descriptions often waxing poetic. There are some truly gorgeous pieces of writing, but the indulgence is both a blessing and curse. While the depictions are gorily haunting, the focus can sometimes feel misplaced. Some scenes feel bogged down or blurry because the content is sacrificed for the aesthetic. At points, plausibility also takes a hit for it too.

Though the setting and premise made me very excited to read this book, it was an uphill battle for me because of the narrative structure. Action bounces back and forth from the present to the past. Not until most of the way through did I realize it was also often more than a decade into the past. I prefer a more linear structure, usually, or at least references at the start of scenes or chapters for better clarity. Layer that in with ongoing tales of Native Alaskan lore, rereading for understanding was often necessary. I was also a little confused because the chapter numbers started over midway through at a section break.

The setting alone can make Something in the Blood stand out for horror or thriller readers looking for something unique. I am not sure if this truly fits the subgenres it's listed as, but it strikes the right tones for the larger genre.

Addiction has many forms. Drugs or alcohol are the faces largely attributed to it in the past. If you've ever had to take a phone away from a teenager, you've seen one of the newest ones. Digital addiction is prevalent in a chronically online world. Gaming, social media, and parasocial relationships can all be looped under that umbrella. But, it would be impossible to say the internet is all bad. Though the scope is much narrower than just “technology,” Psychology of Technology does a great job balancing pros and cons of such a connected world. It also tries to provide solutions on how to tip the current situation more positive.

I always shock my students when I try to describe a life before internet prevalence and the pocket-sized portals we are all glued to. In less than three decades, instant online communication grew and changed our lives with such impact as the birth of motorized vehicles or maybe even the use of electricity itself. In some ways, the internet has gone even further because it's morphed beyond just a tool. It's helpful, but it's also become a source of division, disinformation, and replacement.

Accelerated by the pandemic, so much of our lives are conducted and preserved online instead of off. Like the author mentions more than once throughout the work, it's time to take a long look at what we can do to rein in some of that seep. To examine whether we've let what was meant to be a tool control us instead. If needed, that might mean pulling ourselves away from being chronically online. Instead of endlessly checking our feeds, we also need to focus on our offline selves and relationships.

The overall message of Psychology of Technology is strong. The comprehensive look at how much the internet and social media have permeated our lives and our thoughts is thorough. However, the message is often bogged down by how redundant much of the information is. I think the author is so ready to expand outward to the big picture that what's covered in later sections feels like a copy of when it's first discussed earlier on. I also would have liked a larger focus on how to have a healthier digital outlook, both on an individual and societal level.

Most people would benefit from reading Psychology of Technology, especially younger readers who don't know a “before.” With the rapid embrace of AI, I also can't think of many more relevant topics.

I fully admit that I almost didn't end up reading this one. I'd seen the major premise before in multiple different iterations, both from an LGBTQ+ perspective and not. You can say that my trust had been broken much like one of the two romantic leads in this novel. I am so happy I did give it chance though because To Trust and To Touch ended up being one of the better iterations of the trope that I've seen.

A lot of what works hinges on the personalities of the main two characters and several supporting characters, a best friend and the daughter of one of the leads. All too often, I find the ‘hurt' side of this type of relationship whiny or unable to do anything by themselves. The likelihood of this only seems to increase when it's the younger half of an age-gap romance. Here though, he's flawed, sassy, and trained to become a living weapon. His counterpart's only flaw is that he's a little too good to be true.

With one character being a performer at a place called Kinkworld, I was expecting a little more of one thing and ended up getting more of another thing. I'm the type who likes all the things, but I can see why certain readers might get drawn in then disappointed by it. The true focus of the novel is on an overarching connection between two people and not just a physical one.

There are quite a few flaws with To Trust and To Touch, however. Idealism is probably the highest among those. Things are too convenient, characters act in ways they wouldn't realistically in certain situations, and the timing feels just a bit off at points. I noticed a handful of errors scattered throughout, mostly with punctuation more than anything.

From a purely technical standpoint, I'd rate the novel lower. But the writing and characters did draw me in enough that some of those flaws I couldn't really see until I was done. Considering how hard it is for me to shut that side of my brain off, that's a pretty credible feat. If you are a fan of hurt/comfort or age-gap romances, I would definitely give this one a read.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

Written to be enjoyed for kids on up, I really enjoyed the preface at the start of Epic Stories for Kids and Family: Accidental Discoveries That Changed Our World. It turned the book into more than just a collection of historical mix-ups that turned out to be successes by offering some valuable life advice.

The structure of Accidental Discoveries makes a lot of sense. Each discovery is given its own chapter and those chapters are grouped largely by the type of invention or discovery that had been made. Starting with some historical context, the reader learns what someone was trying to do followed by the accident that happened.

The reading level seems right for the demographic, though younger children would need some help with it. Infused with humor, the bite-sized bits of history are both engaging and informative. Even as an adult, I hadn't heard of some of the stories. And the ones I had heard before, there were still expansions on.

My only real complaint is with the close of each discovery. Every chapter ends with the reveal of what the accidental invention actually is. While I would like this near formula normally, I feel like this should only have been done if every section waited until the end to actually call the discovery by name. Some do, some don't. And unfortunately, the inconsistency bothered me a bit as I was reading. There were a few errors scattered throughout as well.

Instilling a love of reading during childhood is very important, even more so for nonfiction in my opinion. That this one also pushes the idea that mistakes can sometimes be good things turns it into a title I would very much recommend to young readers. What would the world look like right now if some of the people and discoveries depicted hadn't taken the risk?

Between my upbringing, my formative years, and my current profession, the central topic of The View from the Clinic: One Nurse's Journey in Abortion Care is one I've been familiar with whether I want to or not. With something so polarizing for so many, it's hard to find those voices that try and take a different approach, or at least one that appears to be as middle ground or impartial as possible. Having a completely unbiased view is largely never going to happen, especially for something like abortion. Author Patrice D'Amoto does try her best to do so here though, presenting her own experiences and supporting them with well-documented research.

Broken up into three parts, The View from the Clinic shifts focus multiple times. First, by taking a look at the author herself and then shifting to some of the people she's treated in her years. The last part also focuses on individual cases like the pages in the middle, but the focus is less on the clinic and more on why the patients decide to enter the said clinic.

The writing is largely poignant, humorous at points, and heartfelt throughout. Patrice's perspective is also a unique one. Just like it's mentioned in the book, so many people with hard stances and loud voices on both sides have no real experience with what they're arguing so heavily about. Thus, The View from the Clinic really does stand out because of this.

The work isn't without it's flaws though with a handful of errors and a few cases of some strange formatting. Timing and the years spent at different points don't really match up either, though I think it was in error more than anything. Because of the unique perspective the book does offer, I also wanted to see more of it. The strongest parts are where the author shares her own expertise or stays extremely close to actual events. However, quite a large chunk is devoted to extrapolation built across many patients and while a very clever imagination... still an imagination. As a nonfiction title, I would have preferred a little less of that, and more of a focus on the goings-on of the clinic itself.

This was honestly a more enjoyable read than I expected given the subject matter. The tone the author must take with her patients bled through to her writing, almost coaxing you through the next page despite some rather heavy content. For, against, or one of the few people trying to take that middle road, I recommend this title to anyone interested in finding out more about how abortion looks at the operational level and not just the overarching concept.

The scope of this book is tremendously wide, covering topics that extend from larger entities trying to manipulate you such as big pharma to ones much more personal, like the person you choose to share a bed with. While it does offer many valuable insights within that huge range, I feel like there was just too much ground to travel in the number of pages between the covers. I personally would have liked more examples attached to each type of manipulation instead of the more general brush used for each.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

A bite-sized, sweet little romance that still packs quite a few things into its short length. Both romantic leads are sexy as well as smart, and the supporting characters around them add some fun quirkiness to the story.

The only reason for not giving full marks is because of the handful errors. Not too many, but enough to be noticeable, especially considering the shorter length.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

I wasn't sure about reading this one based on just the blurb, but something made me at least open up the excerpt and take a look. By the end of the first page, I had already decided I needed to read this.

The humor is what initially drew me in, but that's not all this book has to offer either. Be prepared to run a gamut of different emotions. Looking at it objectively, the author's life might be considered more ‘normal' than what most would think of for a memoir. But it's the lens Murphy makes us look through that truly made this book such a joy to read. Well, that and the near flawless writing.

Based on the title alone, I expected ‘Don't Ask the Blind Guy for Directions' to be full of humor. And thankfully, author John Samuel did actually deliver on that unspoken promise for the most part. A raw memoir, the reader is taken on the journey of a rather eventful life burdened by degenerative eye disease and bolstered by a will to not give in.

For someone with no directions to give, the author has been a lot of places. And worked there too! An international businessman and climber of one of the highest peaks in the world, the story of Samuel's life almost seems too fantastical to be true. Because there is so much to tell, the pace at times feels frenetic too. Speeding through some parts perhaps a bit too fast and then hanging on others.

The largest takeaways I had from this book are less about the author's own life and more on the way people with disabilities are often treated by the system. The strongest parts are here, both in the presentation of facts and in the way the team he finally found a home in has been working to improve other people's lives. While the context of his personal struggles dealing with his own disability is both poignant and important, I feel less focus should have been put on the parts of his life that didn't include this.

There were too many times where the narrative was bogged down by ‘I did this, and then I did this, and then this happened too' type of retelling. Repetition of the same feelings and thoughts expressed with largely no variation between them also led to this just being a presentation issue for me. This is one of the main reasons for the lower rating.

The other is the lack of realization the author seems to have about his own responsibility when it comes to some of what happens to him. Yes, the system can and should do more. Yes, he does mention that he should speak up more. But compared to the rest of what goes on, there is largely no culpability on his part that's expressed. This bothers me in more than one place but especially when it comes to two scenes.

In a large auditorium for a presentation, he asks an usher for help because he has trouble seeing. The usher obliges and helps the author to the front of the room for a better view. There is fire in the words that describe how this accommodation was terrible because it still didn't help, one of the only times the writing truly seems to get emotional. I would argue that unless something more specific was said (and didn't translate into the book), the usher did as much as they could to help with the information given.

The other scene involves a proctored test that Samuel needs to take. He's astonished that the piece of equipment he needs isn't being provided, but from my own experience, quite a few things aren't provided by those testing centers. That's usually information given when signing up for them. Calculators for instance are a big example of this. Just like with the use of a cane, I think there was some resentment toward accommodations, and it was easier to place the blame outside of oneself.

Overall, I commend the author for the things he's been through, and for the fortitude it must have taken for him to end up where he has. I just would have appreciated a sharper focus either on his own growth or the struggles and ways to overcome them that those with disabilities face.

I work in a profession where I have to take at least an annual training about sexual abuse and sexual predators, and have done so for over 10 years. That there was still some new information or perspectives to be gained here is a ringing endorsement for the content at least in ‘The Truth About Sexual Predators.' The first and last parts are the strongest by far, with clear goals and structure to the information presented.

If I was basing my rating entirely on the information given, this could have been a much higher review. However, there were quite a few things that prevented me from doing so. I am not entirely sure if this was because it was an ARC copy that I received, but the formatting was very strange in numerous places. Many lists were words smashed together without commas or any type of punctuation, including spaces. There were also a few grammar errors that further made the reading a bit difficult at points.

For a nonfiction work published this year, I was also surprised by how dated the resources were, the vast majority of material coming from studies conducted in the 90s or even 80s. The most modern citation was only from 2000. While there are more modern references, chief among them, the Weinstein case, it was prefaced using the word “yesterday” which I wouldn't recommend for a publication. Even more so if that publication wasn't even from the same year as the case either.

I also liked the last section focusing on how to identify some characteristics of a sexual predator, but the way it is presented directly defies one of the myths the book is trying to debunk. The predator is labeled as “he” and the victim as “she” for that entire part. Using such labels only perpetuates the belief some hold that sexual abusers are only men and their victims are only women.

Overall though, I am still happy that I had the opportunity to read this book. And I recommend it to anyone interested in the topic, particularly those that work with children since this could be a valuable tool for helping identify grooming behaviors.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.