Wulf C. Krueger
Love, Loss, and a bit of a Letdown: Molly’s Story
I don’t even remember what put Samantha Brinn on my reading radar. She’s a new-ish romance author who definitely deserves to be much better known.
I fell in love with Brinn’s stories, world and, most of all, her fantastic quartet of female protagonists with the second instalment of her “Laws of You” series, “When I'm with You”, and the third one, “Anything for You”, absolutely sealed the deal for me.
Thus, I was immensely looking forward to this final instalment, “It's Always Been You”, about the fourth major character, Molly “Rory” Jenkins. Molly has been a delight and spectacularly fun to read about in the previous novels so what could be better than an entire book about her?
»Molly Jenkins contains multitudes. It’s my favorite part about myself.«
Well, turns out that Brinn took a step back into more “traditional” romance: Her long-lost love Gabe is a billionaire and invented a phone – he’s basically the second coming of Steve Jobs but without any edges.
Fierce, unconventional, tough-love Molly – with few exceptions – turns into goo in his general vicinity – not to speak of his hands and other body parts. This would be (mostly) fine if it didn’t also mean that her strong feminist traits (and, by extension, those of the entire series) is dialled several steps down. Which is sad because it made for a damn great read before.
Much of Molly’s and Gabe’s journey back to each other is too simple and just way too smooth – despite not having seen each other for ten years! During most of it, our three other protagonists are either elsewhere entirely or feel strangely muted.
There’s also a bit too much smut for my personal taste and I have even skipped a few pages when things turned a bit too “ick” for me... Your mileage may vary.
Still, Samantha Brinn remains one of my favourite romance authors because of her entire series, which I will sorely miss. Because at the end of the day, I can relate to much of what she writes.
»So, it’s here, in the back seat of a car parked in the middle of a cemetery, that I accept my fate. I’ve loved Gabe since I was eighteen, and I’m destined to love him until the day I die. It wasn’t a choice.«
Amusingly, I was travelling with my wife with heterochromatic eyes while I read most of this novel. At one point, C. said she was looking forward to being home again. I responded I was home the entire time…
»I look into Molly’s every color eyes that are so perfectly her, and I know she’s right because I’m home. Molly is home, and nothing else matters.«
Four stars out of five.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
Kim Stone #12 to #21
I went down a rabbit hole with Kim Stone. After eleven novels starring Angela Marsons’ brilliant, abrasive, sympathetic Detective Inspector, I was so enamoured with these characters, the mysteries, and all the other greatness that make these novels, I just couldn’t get enough of them.
Every waking minute that could be spent on the novels, would be.
Ok, a few times I would start to despair at the loss of the rule of law in the USA, witnessing how people like you and me are impacted by what that despicable orange person does.
And then I would immediately return to Kim Stone and her team. Penn, Stacey, Bryant (whose given name I now finally know!), Frost, and, interestingly, Leanne - they all have their moments. The stories always address relevant contemporary issues, they’re believable, suspenseful and thrilling.
I cannot review those novels individually anymore because once I had finished one (without taking the time for my usual highlights, notes, and annotations), I’d jump right into the next. I’d probably be facing the worst book hangover in decades if there hadn’t been a certain book to spare me that trouble.
Just know if you’re into mysteries and police procedurals (in rural Britain), you cannot go wrong with Angela Marsons’ Kim Stone.
Thus, I’m awarding five stars out of five to each and every instalment from #12 to #21 and will be copying this review to each of these.
Kim Stone #12 to #21
I went down a rabbit hole with Kim Stone. After eleven novels starring Angela Marsons’ brilliant, abrasive, sympathetic Detective Inspector, I was so enamoured with these characters, the mysteries, and all the other greatness that make these novels, I just couldn’t get enough of them.
Every waking minute that could be spent on the novels, would be.
Ok, a few times I would start to despair at the loss of the rule of law in the USA, witnessing how people like you and me are impacted by what that despicable orange person does.
And then I would immediately return to Kim Stone and her team. Penn, Stacey, Bryant (whose given name I now finally know!), Frost, and, interestingly, Leanne - they all have their moments. The stories always address relevant contemporary issues, they’re believable, suspenseful and thrilling.
I cannot review those novels individually anymore because once I had finished one (without taking the time for my usual highlights, notes, and annotations), I’d jump right into the next. I’d probably be facing the worst book hangover in decades if there hadn’t been a certain book to spare me that trouble.
Just know if you’re into mysteries and police procedurals (in rural Britain), you cannot go wrong with Angela Marsons’ Kim Stone.
Thus, I’m awarding five stars out of five to each and every instalment from #12 to #21 and will be copying this review to each of these.
Kim Stone #12 to #21
I went down a rabbit hole with Kim Stone. After eleven novels starring Angela Marsons’ brilliant, abrasive, sympathetic Detective Inspector, I was so enamoured with these characters, the mysteries, and all the other greatness that make these novels, I just couldn’t get enough of them.
Every waking minute that could be spent on the novels, would be.
Ok, a few times I would start to despair at the loss of the rule of law in the USA, witnessing how people like you and me are impacted by what that despicable orange person does.
And then I would immediately return to Kim Stone and her team. Penn, Stacey, Bryant (whose given name I now finally know!), Frost, and, interestingly, Leanne - they all have their moments. The stories always address relevant contemporary issues, they’re believable, suspenseful and thrilling.
I cannot review those novels individually anymore because once I had finished one (without taking the time for my usual highlights, notes, and annotations), I’d jump right into the next. I’d probably be facing the worst book hangover in decades if there hadn’t been a certain book to spare me that trouble.
Just know if you’re into mysteries and police procedurals (in rural Britain), you cannot go wrong with Angela Marsons’ Kim Stone.
Thus, I’m awarding five stars out of five to each and every instalment from #12 to #21 and will be copying this review to each of these.
Kim Stone #12 to #21
I went down a rabbit hole with Kim Stone. After eleven novels starring Angela Marsons’ brilliant, abrasive, sympathetic Detective Inspector, I was so enamoured with these characters, the mysteries, and all the other greatness that make these novels, I just couldn’t get enough of them.
Every waking minute that could be spent on the novels, would be.
Ok, a few times I would start to despair at the loss of the rule of law in the USA, witnessing how people like you and me are impacted by what that despicable orange person does.
And then I would immediately return to Kim Stone and her team. Penn, Stacey, Bryant (whose given name I now finally know!), Frost, and, interestingly, Leanne - they all have their moments. The stories always address relevant contemporary issues, they’re believable, suspenseful and thrilling.
I cannot review those novels individually anymore because once I had finished one (without taking the time for my usual highlights, notes, and annotations), I’d jump right into the next. I’d probably be facing the worst book hangover in decades if there hadn’t been a certain book to spare me that trouble.
Just know if you’re into mysteries and police procedurals (in rural Britain), you cannot go wrong with Angela Marsons’ Kim Stone.
Thus, I’m awarding five stars out of five to each and every instalment from #12 to #21 and will be copying this review to each of these.
I’ve had a hard time reading “The Glass Castle” by Jeannette Walls. Walls describes the horrors (and a few good times, few and far between) of her childhood and adolescence.
While I kept wishing someone had intervened, I still felt thoroughly disengaged from the memoir. Walls describes everything without allowing any emotions to shine through. “Glass Castle” reads like it has been written by a detached observer. It’s a sterile, antiseptic report, which is undoubtedly well-written but, to me, not very interesting.
Only during the very first chapter are there any meaningful emotional components and in her acknowledgements, Walls states being “grateful [...] to my father, Rex S. Walls, for dreaming all those big dreams”. These are the dreams of a man who repeatedly tried to sell his own daughter to strangers to rape her. Moreover, he goes on to victim-blame her.
Walls is also grateful to her mother “for believing in art and truth” - a truth her mother gaslit her children away from, and a truth that includes possession of land worth a million that’s being kept in the family for no reason at all while the kids literally starve, freeze, and suffer from neglect, among other hardships.
Don’t get me wrong: Walls, just like anyone else, is, of course, welcome to feel and think any way she likes. Nevertheless, what precedent does that set for other parents like hers?
In different ways, I have my own childhood traumas caused by my father (and was blamed for them by my mother). I breathe more freely since his death in August 2024. Hadn’t it been for the misplaced piety of others, I would have had him dumped into my mother’s grave, alone with an undertaker.
Three stars out of five for the effort.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
A clever and chilling thriller that blends psychological depth, intense suspense, and emotional storytelling as Kim Stone’s past is dragged back into the present.
“Dead Memories”, the 10th instalment in Angela Marsons’ brilliant “D.I. Kim Stone” series, was yet another great read. As I state so often in these reviews - this one is the best one yet.
This time, Kim is brutally haunted by her past: A murderer is recreating the traumas of Kim’s time in the child care system. Many of these have already been featured in earlier novels but some of them are new to the reader and truly horrible. While this novel is not as dark as some of its predecessors, there is one scene of sexualised violence against a child. You have been warned.
Marsons wouldn’t be Marsons, though, if she didn’t manage to create an extremely well-balanced, suspenseful, and, at its core, very humane novel out of this. Apart from the well-established team by now, including Penn, who is increasingly developing into a favourite character of mine…
»‘Good job, Penn, bloody good job.’
‘Thanks, boss.’«
… we’re encountering some old acquaintances like behaviourist Alison and others.
»‘You don’t trust me,’ Alison blurted out, coloured and looked away.
‘I do,’ Kim protested. ‘Well, as much as I trust anyone… actually… okay… you got me.’
To her surprise Alison laughed out loud but it wasn’t the derisive sound of a few moments earlier. This was hearty and came from her stomach.«
Stacey also features prominently and plays a much deserved major role in the side story in which she has a particularly great moment…
»‘I believe her,’ said Stacey, standing up behind him. ‘I’m Detective Constable Wood and I just heard every word.’«
It’s probably best to go into this one blind and it might not quite lend itself to being read as a stand-alone if one wants the optimal experience out of it even though it’s so good, it can also serve as an entrance to the series should one insist.
Either way, this one was yet another spectacular success!
Five out of five stars.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
Anything for You: A Feminist Utopia Wrapped in Warmth and Wit. I just wish it wasn’t fiction.
“Anything for You” by Samantha Brinn is the third instalment of the “Laws of You” series and continues the story of Hallie, Julie, Molly, and, in this novel, Emma.
These four female protagonists are best friends (or “found family” as they regard each other) and share a law practice. They’re all strong, capable, empathetic women in their late twenties or early thirties with distinct personalities and well-established backgrounds. They basically read a little too well to be true but that’s part of my enjoyment of these novels, and we’ll get to that in a moment.
Beyond that, they’re part of a group of friends and partners most of whom appear in every novel. While I usually much prefer small cameo appearances, this different approach works brilliantly here: While Brinn’s focus is clearly on the respective protagonists, she effortlessly succeeds in adding the established couples to the mix and enhancing the overall story and atmosphere without diluting the main story.
In this novel, part of the side story is about Hallie getting married to her partner from the first novel. Perfectly in keeping with both the style and the outlook, Brinn allows her heroes to shed traditions that do not suit them. She does so without pathos or a missionary zeal, but rather in the spirit of genuine acceptance and a freely chosen togetherness built on respect and understanding. This is evident, for example, in how the clothing of Hallie's friends is handled for her wedding.
»Hallie didn’t care about the colors or anything—she just wanted us each to wear something we loved that looked like us.«
While the first two novels centred on Hallie and Julie respectively, this one is about Emma and Jeremy. Jeremy, a former hockey player, now running a charitable sports organisation, has fallen in love with Emma at least eight years before the events of this novel. Emma has pretty much felt the same about him for a similarly long time. So, what’s the problem?
»They are the best people in the world, and I didn’t feel worthy of them. I still don’t.«
First of all, Emma and Jeremy are both introverts, which immediately endeared them to me. Complicating matters, eight years ago, they had a one-night stand that ended with Jeremy fleeing and Emma in disarray over her feelings. Since then, despite seeing each other in their shared friend group all the time, they’ve hardly spoken to each other beyond a few words and “secret” moments of tender kindness that both are confused about but feel unable to address.
»Emma matches me stride for stride, and our synchronicity is soothing.«
“Anything for You” is the story of them overcoming their inhibitions and, inevitably, slowly building a relationship despite their respective challenges. Brinn writes with exceptional sensitivity and warmth about her protagonists. She has a remarkable ability to bring out the nuances of different characters and to make them come vividly to life as you read. Added to this is a deep, humane sense of humour and an unmistakably liberal-progressive outlook, which I find very appealing. These are her great strengths, which have captivated me ever since reading her first book.
»“I was twenty-two years old, Jeremy. I wasn’t a kid, and I wanted to sleep with you. Virginity is a patriarchal construct to make women ashamed of sex, and nothing we did was shameful. It’s Gloria Steinem’s world, baby, and we’re just living in it.«
Sadly, even more than 50 years (!) after she wrote it, we’re not (yet!) in Steinem’s world (which you can read more about in Steinem’s brilliant “What It Would Be Like if Women Win" (cf. media URL)). With which we come back to my earlier statement about our protagonists feeling too good to be true.
The world depicted in this novel as well as the entire series is very much Gloria Steinem’s: a world transformed by gender equality, where traditional power structures are dismantled, and women’s values shape society. Steinem describes a future in which caregiving and collaboration are prioritized, workplaces accommodate family needs, and institutions no longer uphold male dominance. Rather than simply reversing gender roles, Steinem envisioned a more balanced and humane society where individuals are free from rigid, oppressive expectations. As a man, I would love to live in Steinem’s world.
»“Ems,” I whine. “I’m telling you my biggest truths here. Can’t you just tell me what to do?”
She looks unimpressed. “You told me you’re unhappy in your job. Welcome to being a person in the world. We’re so happy to have you. Take some time, Jeremy. Think about what makes you happy. What you used to love about going to work. Start there, and you’ll figure it out. You can talk to me about it whenever you want. I love hearing you talk, and I always want to help, but this isn’t a decision I can make for you.”«
I cannot think of any better utopia for all of us, regardless of gender. I am all too aware that I have contributed to inequality myself—and, regrettably, sometimes still do. But for my wife, my adult children, and all of us, I deeply wish for a world like this. I wouldn’t label myself as “woke,” as I don’t think it’s a useful self-description. Rather, I would simply like to be seen that way, and I try my best to live up to it.
Brinn’s books offer me a glimpse into such a utopian world, opening up perspectives that were largely unfamiliar in my upbringing, and only partially accessible to me as a young(er) man. The fact that I sometimes question the realism of these characters reveals just how far we still have to go. I wish—especially for my children—that I had recognised this decades ago.
»“You are enough, just the way you are. Now go. Drink. Shower. Comfortable clothes.” Jeremy doesn’t say anything else. He just follows my instructions and downs the drink in one swallow then heads to the shower. And when he disappears up the stairs, I pull out my phone and call in the troops.«
At the same time, these remarkable books also provide a brief escape from the real world. In the past, my refuge was video games; today, it is books. But it is more than mere escapism—it is a longing for a more just world for all of us, and I hope to see it realised in my lifetime. Despite the frustrating, disheartening, and infuriating setbacks, such as the recent re-election of the orange criminal and the sycophantic allegiance of his “tech-bro” enablers, I remain convinced that these are temporary relapses.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not comparing Brinn to Steinem. However, I do admire Brinn’s ability to create a kinder, fairer world in her books. We all stand on the shoulders of giants, and I have great admiration for anyone who contributes to that vision.
Viewed in this light, the minor weaknesses in Brinn’s books regarding grammar and punctuation are easily forgiven—though, of course, a more thorough edit would be welcome.
»I stare at Emma, fascinated by all of her layers. I wonder if there will ever be a day I stop learning new things about her. I doubt it. I hope not.«
I’m citing this one last because beyond its simplicity, it reminded me of a quote by Max Frisch from his diaries:
»It is remarkable that we are least able to say what the person we love is truly like. We simply love them. This, in fact, is the essence of love—the wondrous nature of love—that it keeps us in the suspension of the living, in the willingness to follow a person through all their possible transformations.
[...]
Our belief that we truly know the other marks the end of love—every time. But perhaps cause and effect are different from what we are tempted to assume. It is not that our love ends because we have come to know the other; rather, the reverse is true: because our love ends, because its strength is exhausted, the person becomes ‘complete’ in our eyes. They must be. We can no longer go on! We withdraw our willingness to embrace further transformations. We deny them the essential right of all living beings—to remain unfathomable—and at the same time, we are bewildered and disappointed that our relationship no longer feels alive.«
Above all else, this is, in my humble opinion, one of the most crucial aspects of lasting relationships. For my wife and me, at least, it has been working for more than 25 years and counting. I love you, C., and am eternally grateful that we’re both open to change with each other.
Five stars out of five.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
I wish I could have enjoyed “Before I Let Go” by Kennedy Ryan more than I did because there is a lot to like in it: Yasmen and Josiah Wade are divorced after suffering devastating losses and finding out they’re incompatible in their respective grieving. Nevertheless, they run a successful restaurant together and do their best at co-parenting. So far, so good.
Told in dual points of view, from both Yasmen’s and Josiah’s perspectives, the novel—very obviously a second chance romance—tells the story of how both grow and, ultimately, find their way back together.
In terms of writing, I have absolutely no complaints: Ryan's prose is confident and elegant. Depending on the perspective and context, she succeeds in striking the right tone: sometimes clear and straightforward, sometimes light and playful, sometimes metaphorical and powerful.
»That kind of depression is blunter than sadness. Sharper than misery. It is the impenetrable dark of midnight deepened with the blackest strokes of blue—a bruise on your spirit that seems like it will never fade. Until one day…it finally does. With the help of the woman on-screen, it did.«
Having grappled with depression myself for most of my life, I have a sliver of comprehension (because depression is different for everyone) both intellectually and emotionally about what Ryan addresses. I very much appreciate the raw honesty with which this complex topic is approached here. Ryan writes sensitively, empathetically, and honestly about it. A central point is the willingness—despite initial scepticism—to seek professional help and go to therapy.
The importance of seeking and getting professional help cannot be overstated and not repeated often-enough.
»It is not an exaggeration to say Dr. Abrams—with her always-on-point silk-pressed hair, fashionable blouses and pencil skirts, and watching, wise eyes—changed my life. I trust her implicitly, and she has taught me more about trusting myself.«
All those years ago, I was hesitant. Therapy? For me? What’s that supposed to do? And isn’t that conceding failure? No, it isn’t. I was anxious about it at first, too, and when I took up therapy again a few years ago, I was anxious again—despite knowing better. Today, I’m better in every single department of my life—and YOU could be, too! (And I don’t mind communicating about it so if you “need an ear”, feel free to contact me.)
I really liked Yasmen because despite her losses and resulting grief (which I cannot even start to comprehend), she is still around. When she finally knows what she wants, she finds her authentic voice and communicates admirably.
Josiah on the other hand is very much in avoidance, in denial, and self-chosen isolation. I understand he’s afraid of loss and almost mortally afraid of opening those “boxes” in his mind he uses to compartmentalise. I had a hard time enjoying his rather quick change from rough and blunt “alpha male” to “can you see me at almost no notice?” person in therapy.
I also found out I don’t like “second chance” scenarios: Both Yasmen and Josiah try to move on despite still feeling very strongly about each other. Their respective love interests felt like “stuffing material” and, for me, didn’t add much to the story but instead distracted from it. This is me and not the novel but I strongly disliked both of them.
I still feel strongly conflicted about the way Ryan spells out everything in detail: I often found myself wishing she would have just let some observations stand on their own (which they easily could have) without spelling their significance out. On the other hand, when I just went looking for an example, I found myself conflicted again and failed at choosing because perhaps it is, in fact, necessary.
I liked Yasmen’s and Josiah’s children Kassim and Deja (and, as a father myself, found them depicted convincingly), and, surprisingly for me, they really added to the story and made the entire novel more convincing and authentic.
There are a few minor niggles I must not fail to mention because they round out the picture: Yasmen’s original wedding ring is described as a “simple gold band and chip diamond ring”—modest, humble, and perfect. The new ring is a “large square-cut diamond on a thick platinum band”. The kids go to an expensive private school and one of them is only reluctantly permitted to enrol in a public school. And yet, Ryan makes Josiah say this:
»“Rich guys, Yas. Privileged men used to getting what they want whenever they want all the time.”
“Some might argue, considering the car you drive, the neighborhood you live in, the clothes you wear, and the cash you drop on sneakers without blinking, that you’re a rich guy yourself.”«
This results in cognitive dissonance because it feels like the author is trying to have it both ways—critiquing wealth and privilege while the characters themselves appear to be privileged. It feels like it's undermining the authenticity of the story.
Despite it all, “Before I Let Go” remains an engaging and worthwhile read. It’s just not a story or scenario I’m enjoying very much. Your mileage may vary.
Three stars out of five.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
Back to reviewing after a nasty encounter with the flu or something.
Angela Marsons’ “Fatal Promise” is another solid entry in the D.I. Kim Stone series, though it doesn’t quite reach the heights of some of its predecessors.
One of the standout aspects of this instalment is the introduction of a new team member, Penn, who brings a different dynamic to the group. Marsons handles this addition well, allowing the character to integrate naturally into the existing team while also providing enough backstory to make him feel fully realised.
The novel also delves deeper into Kim Stone’s personal struggles, particularly how she deals with loss and grief. Marsons has always excelled at balancing the professional and personal lives of her characters, and “Fatal Promise” is no exception. Kim’s growth as a character is evident, and her resilience in the face of adversity continues to make her one of the most compelling protagonists in crime fiction.
The plot itself is well-constructed, with enough twists and turns to keep readers guessing. Marsons’ ability to weave together multiple storylines is on full display here, and the pacing is tight, ensuring that the reader is never bored. However, compared to some of the earlier books in the series, “Fatal Promise” feels slightly less groundbreaking.
That said, the novel still manages to deliver a satisfying conclusion, with all loose ends tied up neatly. The resolution is both logical and emotionally resonant, a testament to Marsons’ skill as a storyteller.
While it may not be the most groundbreaking instalment, it offers enough new elements and character development to keep fans engaged. If you’re a fan of the series, this is definitely worth your time. If you’re new to Marsons’ work, I’d recommend starting with some of the earlier books to fully appreciate the depth of the characters and the world she has created.
Four stars out of five.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
Murder at an elite British boarding school where secret societies wield immense influence and control over practically every single pupil—for their entire life. A shady principal, a counselor with secrets, and Joanna Wade, still coming on to Kim.
»The Spades filed silently into the candle room.«
Now imagine Kim “invading” the venerable halls of the school, disrupting the supposed peace and, in her usual manner, penetrating the complex interconnections against all resistance by celebrities, school officials, pupils, and pretty much everyone - with unexpected exceptions…
This is the premise of Dying Truth, Angela Marsons’ eighth instalment in her Kim Stone series and it plays out just as brilliantly as it sounds. I know I also wrote about the previous novel but it’s true for this one as well: It’s the best novel of this series so far.
From the outset, the boarding school provides a gothic, almost claustrophobic atmosphere. With its evocative setting, the novel effortlessly balances a compelling mystery with the intricate dynamics of its key players. The blend of suspense, emotional depth, and psychological insight makes this an absorbing read that stands apart not only as part of the series but also in the crowded crime fiction genre. As such, it can easily be read without prior knowledge of the series as a whole.
Kim Stone herself remains a formidable protagonist whose complexity drives the narrative. I really enjoyed her approach to internal performance reviews: kind, fair, and honest, yet without compromising her innate pragmatism.
Much to Marsons’ credit, though, every single member of Kim’s team really gets to shine.
»Dawson silently applauded the boy’s strength of character in not taking the easy way out of a difficult situation.«
This not only points to the boy’s resilience but mirrors Dawson’s own growth throughout the series. His care and kindness lent a much-needed warmth amidst the darker undercurrents of the story.
In their different ways, everyone does their utmost to solve not only the current crime but also one from the past. While the story impresses with its pace and twists, much of its merit lies in Marsons’ ability to intertwine psychological depth with razor-sharp suspense. Every scene feels calculated yet organic, drawing the reader deeper into the sinister and secretive nature of the boarding school.
A few minor imperfections don’t mar the overall picture. While Tracy Frost, the local journalist, often plays a significant role in the series, here she is sadly underused. I’ve come to enjoy Tracy’s complex character and her interactions with Kim; both aspects are largely neglected here.
Also, interspersed in the story are excerpts from the victim’s diary, immediately followed by the ramblings of the murderer. To me, those parts didn’t really add to the story and the image of the murderer evoked by his commentary was at odds with the character as shown throughout the novel.
The ending, too, felt entirely consistent with Kim’s intricate personality, leaving me both satisfied and eager to explore more of her journey.
Comparatively, “Dying Truth” surpasses earlier entries in the series, such as “Lost Girls”, which I found a bit excessive in its grimness. Here, Marsons masterfully balances tension and emotional resonance, proving once again why—to me—Kim Stone stands out as one of crime fiction’s most intriguing investigators.
Five stars out of five.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
Regressive, Reckless, and Ridiculous: Meet the Worst Book I've Ever Read
In all honesty, this is the worst book I’ve ever read. It’s so backwards-leaning, demented, idiotic, and irresponsible, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Long and Sidebottom are actually Trump and Musk respectively.
Daisy is our female protagonist who has just been cheated on by her boyfriend, been fired from her job, and, encouraged by friends, now wants to take a holiday. To give you a first idea of what Daisy is like, let’s examine her thoughts about that:
»My pout returns when I remember she’s right. I have no job to try and take holidays from. I have no boyfriend to seek permission from.«
The male protagonist, Frazer, is by no means better.
»From what I know, Nigel is a prize ass, anyway, and I’m sure no mother could be proud of a son who wears brown corduroys and a feather fucking earring while he sticks toenail clippings to bits of cardboard – all at the same time.«
His behaviour resembles that of a reckless, careless, horny teenager. He doesn’t mind “forgetting” using a condom much and when asked to visit the local pharmacy for the pill after, he refuses because he’s a man…
Daisy's reaction to this is… surprising as well: She starts hopping, “Trying to get it all out. You know, fling it downwards!” as a means of birth control.
Frazer also thinks “pulling out” is a valid method of contraception, and so does Daisy, as she doesn’t even react to it. He also doesn’t mind jumping the next available female despite harbouring very strong feelings for Daisy. To get rid of said woman the morning after, he behaves extremely rudely and insultingly to her.
There’s also a notable side character called Frank. Frank seems to be a middle-aged white male of the “disgusting sexist” variety. Whenever and wherever he sees a woman, he greets her like this:
»Frank is sitting at his spot on the bench, and lifting a hand in greeting to me, he shouts out, “Morning, sugar tits.”«
And this is by far the most “harmless” greeting…
Fittingly, the writing feels cheap and bland, with absolutely no highlights and humour of this type:
»He makes money out of used loo rolls and my life is so shit I need the toilet tissue.«
There’s a lot of sex and I usually don’t complain about smut but the sparse and barren language as well as a complete absence of noticeable, credible desire or at least lust gives it a mechanical, transactional, and sometimes clinical feeling. Let’s take a look at Daisy’s and Frazer’s first “encounter” (abridged):
»“Show me your dick and I’ll sign the piece of paper.”
[...]
“Oh yeah. Okay then. Here goes.”
[...]
He winks at me. “Fine with me. Listen. This is going to sound weird, but can I touch your boob just a little bit?”
[...]
“Okay.”
[...]
“I want to touch it.”
[...]
“You can if you want but then you’ll have to excuse me to go to the loo and know I’m going to think about your body as I beat off. I’ve gone past the point of no return here.”«
This, fellow readers, is how they fall in insta-love. It is also the moment when I started feeling nauseous.
Even though this is more of a novella, there’s still tons of filler material, e. g. Daisy going on a dinner date (a disaster both story- and novel-wise) during which she complains about the size of one of the waiter’s eyes…
»The waiter huffs loudly and shifts from one foot to the other. I’d feel sympathetic for him but he definitely has one eye bigger than the other and looks down right shifty.«
The authors go on, and on, and on to put every single shitty cliché into their novel…
»Shirley reaches out and pats Daisy’s hand. “Aww, darling, you should have said if you’re premenstrual.”«
… to “dumb blondes”...
»Maybe because, a, your dick definitely does NOT taste of lychees like you promised.«
… and great, loving parenting styles…
»Your brother ran away at thirteen when I told him he couldn’t dye his hair pink. He did the same at fourteen when I told him his new earring looked stupid. It was a peacock feather, for God’s sake.«
There’s even blackfacing…
»Kathy and I are dressed in hoodies and jeans. We’ve put the darkest fake tan on our faces and hands so we look a different race altogether from a distance. That’s what we’re going to be all night long.«
This could go on for all of the 260 pages of this irredeemably bad book, one of the very few without any redeeming qualities at all.
There was one moment, though, that made me laugh out loud but, unfortunately, it was unintentionally funny and only serves to show how, uhm, “intellectually challenged” these authors are:
»She then turns over and is out as if someone has put a chlorophyll-filled tissue in her face.«
Dear Andie and D.H., the word you were looking for is “Chloroform” which firmly belongs to the 19th and early 20th century from which your novel’s jokes, ideas about gender, sex, and societal norms also come.
Your verbal diarrhoea is disgusting and solely garners one star out of five because I can’t give none.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
Not as sharp as before, but Kim Stone’s grit keeps me hooked.
Angela Marsons’ “Broken Bones” follows Kim Stone and her tireless team as they delve into a network of crimes that expose the darkest corners of society. While its predecessor left me enthralled, this one felt like a slight step back in terms of sheer suspense, character development, and immediacy of action.
“Broken Bones” deals with issues of desperation, abuse, and exploitation, exploring the ways marginalised people navigate a world indifferent to their suffering. Among the novel’s many strengths, Detective Kim Stone continues to stand out. Her tenacity, resilience, and willingness to challenge perceptions radiate in every chapter.
»He turned to look at her. ‘You’re advising me on positivity?’
‘Oh, the irony,’ she observed.«
The novel also examines the complexity of human behaviour. In a powerful scene, Kim reflects on the limitations of stereotyping:
»’A contradiction, eh?’ Bryant asked.
Kim shook her head. ‘Just a person, Bryant. Full of likes and dislikes, fears and hopes. I’m still waiting to meet the stereotype.’«
Despite these positives, the pacing felt uneven. At points, the plot unfolded methodically, building tension. Yet the resolution lacked the satisfying intricacy I’ve come to expect. Subplots occasionally dipped into predictability, and the shadow of the previous, stronger instalment loomed large. Marsons sets a high bar, and while “Broken Bones” meets it in parts, it falls short of being as impactful as its immediate predecessor.
All in all, I enjoyed “Broken Bones”—its gritty realism, memorable characters, and moments of raw emotion make it a worthy read. However, it wasn’t as consistently enthralling as I’d hoped, and I missed some of the edge that made earlier books exceptional.
Four stars out of five.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
I've followed Angela Marsons' Kim Stone series from the beginning, and "Dead Souls" was, so far, its best instalment.
What sets this entry apart is the fascinating dynamic created by forcing Kim Stone to work alongside her long-standing nemesis, Tom Travis, and his team. This unexpected partnership generates tension throughout the story, while Kim's own team tackles separate cases that eventually interweave.The culmination, involving the abduction of one of Kim's team members, had me perched on the edge of my seat.
Marsons has always excelled at pacing, but here she's outdone herself. The narrative flows with the precision of a well-oiled machine, never feeling rushed yet maintaining a constant sense of urgency. While the subject matter is undeniably dark—dealing with xenophobia, racism, and hate crimes—it doesn't descend into the gratuitous territory that sometimes plagues contemporary crime fiction.
It feels almost eerie to have read this in January 2025, considering a convicted felon, an insurrectionist spared jail and disqualification from office by his election, is about to become president of the USA in less than a week. and his “tech bro” is openly supporting Nazis in Germany and the UK.
Back to fiction, though: The character development continues to impress, with both familiar faces and new additions being rendered in compelling detail. I particularly appreciated how Marsons uses the team's separation to spotlight individual character growth while maintaining the series' distinctive group dynamic.
Comparing this to previous entries in the series, such as "Broken Bones" or "Evil Games", "Dead Souls" shows a marked evolution in both storytelling sophistication and thematic depth.
For readers new to the series, while this book can stand alone, I'd recommend starting from the beginning to fully appreciate the character relationships and their development. However, long-time fans will find this a particularly rewarding entry that pushes beloved characters into new territory while maintaining everything we've come to love about the series.
Five stars out of five.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
"Blood Lines" by Angela Marsons initially grabbed my attention with its suspenseful and gripping story. It certainly is a page-turner, and for a while, I was convinced that this was a solid four-star read. The premise was intriguing, and the pacing kept me engaged, making it easy reading at first. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm waned as the story progressed.
»She was not as surprised as she should have been that Alex had come crashing back into her life.«
The return of Alex Thorne, an old foe, felt contrived, and Alex’ actions seemed almost universally outlandish. Why resurrect old villains when you can create new, compelling antagonists? And let’s be honest, she's unbelievably manipulative and cartoonish. It severely impacted my enjoyment to see such a lazy plot device used. It’s just more of the same, nothing new—and, of course, Kim fell for it almost every time…
If you—like me—didn’t enjoy “Evil Games” (Kim Stone #2) all that much, be prepared for more “blasts from the past”—including a dying scene so utterly clichéd to the extent that it induced secondhand embarrassment.
Then we have the storyline itself: the plot became increasingly contrived, and some connections Kim made were thread-bare. On a more positive note, the dynamics within Kim’s team are as engaging as ever. One of the team members, though, made several mistakes to the point where it became difficult to suspend disbelief; these errors had no real consequences – a "good bollocking" seemed to suffice, rather than any meaningful repercussions.
»Emotion. Because you have none you can’t even begin to understand how they affect people’s actions.«
This gross oversimplification of a sociopath's abilities, especially given that Alex had demonstrably understood emotions, and used them to great success throughout the novel, was grating to say the least. This also reflects badly on Kim’s understanding of her foe.
Overall, "Blood Lines" had the potential to be a brilliant crime thriller. It started promisingly but ultimately failed to deliver on its initial appeal.
Three stars out of five.
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
Hope and New Beginnings: Why You’ll Fall in Love with ”The Wedding People”
I knew absolutely nothing about “The Wedding People” by Alison Espach. I just liked the cover. Once I had started reading it, I didn’t want to stop—for anything or anyone. Now that I’ve finished it, I’m suffering from a severe bout of book hangover.
Phoebe Stone comes to the Cornwall Inn to kill herself. She just wants to splurge on herself one last time, dine nicely, enjoy the sunset and then overdose on… medicine. Before she can do pretty much anything of that, though, Phoebe finds herself amidst the chaos of the “wedding week” of the bride, Lila, the groom, Gary, and the eponymous “wedding people”.
Lila literally barges into Phoebe’s life and room, and sets Phoebe on a path that will drastically change her life.
»No. You definitely cannot kill yourself. This is my wedding week.«
This premise had me hooked very quickly. What really sealed the deal for me, though, was not the “loudness” of the wedding. It was the raw and honest conversations that quickly started between Lila, who is outwardly controlled, controlling, and almost excessively extroverted, and Phoebe, who starts out as Lila’s polar opposite. Their conversations change their respective perceptions of their lives and futures.
»Phoebe looks at Lila and Lila looks at Phoebe. The sadness of the story is so stark, her voice so monotone when she delivered it, they erupt into a laughter so intense it surprises Phoebe. Every time they are about to calm down, the bride says, “Herrbbbballl Essences!” and Phoebe starts laughing all over again. It makes her feel high.«
I deeply appreciated the sensitive and tender depiction of Phoebe’s state of mind that keeps organically and subtly changing throughout the novel. To me at least, Phoebe is immensely relatable.
»The bride doesn’t understand yet, what it means to be married. To share everything. To have one bank account. To pee with the door wide open while telling your husband a story about penguins at the zoo.«
Lila often comes across as abrasive, rash, sometimes rude, and always expressive, to say the least. She is loud and obnoxious among her wedding people. And, yet, in her conversations with Phoebe we get to see other sides of her: The deep-seated insecurity, her doubts and worries. Lila tries to drown all of it in her outward “loudness”, and by planning, executing, and controlling every little detail and leaving nothing to chance.
It is testament to Espach’s empathy with her characters that Lila, too, is shown as a complex character in spite of all that. Like Phoebe, she embarks on a metaphorical journey that leads her to completely unknown shores and gives her depth. Early on, just styled “the bride”, she grows into (De)lila(h), a first-class character.
Gary, the groom, is Lila’s opposite: He basically stands somewhere in her vicinity and, like a spectator, leaves everything to her. His and Lila’s wedding is his second wedding and he has almost resigned to it. Whereas Lila is loud and outgoing, Gary is often a silent witness of the havoc she wreaks. In his interactions with Phoebe, though, we get a glance at the Gary he has buried along with his first wife. Just like the novel in its entirety, it felt exhilarating, joyful, and kind of triumphant to see how Gary burrows himself out of the “grave” he put himself into; the undeserved guilt he feels, the feeling of being constantly overwhelmed by Lila, and the deeply felt love for his child, Mel(anie), who wants to be called “Juice”.
Phoebe and Gary grow towards each other over the course of the novel. Here, again, Espach intricately weaves a narrative web that not only entangles the both of them but the reader as well. It was simply impossible for me not to enjoy their conversations that are very rarely openly intimate but exude a feeling of intimacy that, at times, made me feel like a voyeur.
I could go on to describe my tender feelings for Juice, Jim, Patricia, Pauline the receptionist, Harry the cat, and many other side characters that are amazingly refined in their own rights and so unobtrusively shown in all their grief and overflowing joy of life (Juice), their restrained despair over what could have been (Jim), what should have been (Patricia), what strictly is in the present (Pauline), and what was (Harry). All of them formed an intrinsically plausible and irresistible world that felt real and life-like.
»“It’s not easy being angry at your own creation. It’s like being angry at yourself.”«
Espach’s writing style and language was superb and extremely accessible, yet neither simple or plain nor ornate. Espach writes just as openly and honestly as most of her characters are. It was an irresistible pleasure to devour her prose.
I especially liked the many shades of humour throughout the novel. From dry (and sometimes morbid) humour…
»“I know this is going to be the most beautiful fucking wedding, and if I wake up to your corpse being rolled into the lobby tomorrow morning, you should know I’ll never recover from something like that.”
“Neither will I,” Phoebe says.«
… to sometimes slapstick-like interludes (the first car made me laugh tears till I started choking) that I’ve not encountered before in decades of reading.
»“Well, I think it’s amazing,” Gary says. “How much work we’ll do just to feel something. I don’t think there is anything more human than that.”«
With the exception of maybe a few indulgent moments near the end of the novel, the pacing was excellent. A mixture of short and medium length chapters sometimes kept me reading from sunset to sunrise, losing sleep—the ultimate proof of a book’s enchantment. I quickly stopped caring about sleep, food, and other bodily functions.
If you’re looking for a novel that is both light and heavy, that spins an astounding tale of hope (at a certain point I was reminded of Emily Dickinson’s wonderful poem ““Hope” is the thing with feathers”), and new beginnings, this book is exactly what you need.
»To be alive, she must leave this hotel, despite the uncertainty of everything.«
Five exuberant stars out of five, and a place among my favourite books of all time.
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Originally posted at turing.mailstation.de.
I read “[b:Lost Girls 26123233 Lost Girls (DI Kim Stone, #3) Angela Marsons https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1588321593l/26123233.SY75.jpg 46071624]” by [a:Angela Marsons 7942666 Angela Marsons https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1419947389p2/7942666.jpg] because I really like Kim Stone as an investigator. Stone is often harsh at least, sometimes to the point of callously offending anyone who hasn't earned her respect. She is also desperately compartmentalising her gruesome childhood and youth to be able to merely “function”.I simply cannot help but root for such a person. As for the three novels I've read by now, I've generally found Marsons' books to be a reasonably decent way to pass the time, offering a reliable dose of police procedural with Kim Stone at the helm.However, this one felt a bit of a misstep, venturing into territory that, for me at least, felt unnecessarily grim. Marsons herself states, »Each story is intended to entertain and take the reader on an exciting, interesting journey. There are some subjects in the books that are difficult to stomach but I aim to treat each situation with respect and sensitivity and not sensationalism.«It's a noble aim, but I'm not entirely sure this novel hits the mark. The rest of this review will be full of revealing quotations and unabashedly present spoiler after spoiler. You have been warned.The premise of “Lost Girls” hinges on the abduction of children. We follow Kim Stone and her team as they try to unravel the mystery, but we also get glimpses into the world of the kidnappers, a choice that, frankly, didn't work for me. As one of my notes states regarding the kidnappers' perspective, it was just too unsubtle and flat-out violent. “Subject One” is depicted as an “evil genius” type of criminal, whereas “Subject Two” is sculpted as a sociopathic “killing machine”. Both remain at this generic level of characterisation. While their respective motives are somewhat clear, there are no convincing explanations and, in the case of “Subject Two”, a strongly hyperbolised attempt to make him feel plausible.The choice of “Subject Three” seemed completely absurd to me.I cannot even quote from these passages because they'd display extreme violence against young animals and children.A level of brutality is shown that I cannot help but feel reflects back on the author.There were signature “Kim moments” where the dialogue felt amusing, such as this, in which she speaks to her superior:»She tipped her head. ‘How could you have been so sure?'‘Because you were told you couldn't have it – and you don't like that one little bit.'Kim opened her mouth and closed it again. For once she could not disagree.«In “Lost Girls”, however, the relentless focus on the darker aspects often overshadowed the more nuanced elements. For example, I found the parents quite interesting, especially Karen and Robert, but they remain sadly underused.The level of depravity explored felt excessive, or, as Marsons puts it, it is »a level of depravity that went beyond any case [Kim had] worked«, and indeed, it's a level I don't particularly want to read about. There's a disturbing element to making the victims young children. As a father of three I was deeply horrified. While I appreciate that crime fiction often delves into unpleasant realities, this felt gratuitous at times, leaning towards shock value rather than serving the story.At around the halfway mark, I even considered a DNF, given the excessive violence.Kim Stone's character, while usually compelling in her relentless pursuit of justice, verged on being almost unlikeable here.There's a scene where she's contemplating a victim:»Kim had to agree but this was a crime scene she viewed dispassionately. Inga had made choices. She had been party to the abduction of innocent children. Yes, this pitiful figure had felt fear but she was now free of that fear. For two little girls, it went on. She hoped.«This reaction seems cold-hearted and devoid of empathy, overstating Kim's character. While her tough exterior is part of her appeal, the dispassionate view of the crime scene felt a bit much this time around. It's one of my core convictions that absolutely nobody deserves to die - no matter what someone did. This point of view also was reflected in the first Kim Stone novel. By Kim herself.The raw fear experienced by the victims, Charlie and Amy, is palpable in moments like this:»Amy cried out and Charlie pulled her close, unable to speak. The fear had paralysed her throat because a part of her had realised the truth.Tomorrow they were going to die.«While undeniably impactful, it ultimately felt unnecessary, included more for pure shock value than any real contribution to the story.There's a sense that Marsons, in attempting to tackle such a sensitive subject, perhaps lost her footing. She recognised the potential pitfalls, as evidenced by her statement, but the execution didn't quite land for me. Compared to other crime thrillers, this one felt heavier on the grim details without offering sufficient depth or nuance in other areas.Ultimately, “Lost Girls” wasn't a complete disaster, but it certainly wasn't my favourite from Angela Marsons. The subject matter felt heavy-handed, and the relentless focus on violence detracted from the more engaging aspects of her writing.Three out of five stars.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam
After the police procedural version of a “grimdark” novel, I needed “light” - and quickly! “[b:Failure to Match 210277479 Failure to Match (Bad Billionaire Bosses, #2) Kyra Parsi https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1711589437l/210277479.SY75.jpg 215329056]” by [a:Kyra Parsi 20746623 Kyra Parsi https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1690751051p2/20746623.jpg] got the job done.Of course, everything was highly predictable and, yet, I enjoyed reading how Jamie fell in love with Jackson. In the beginning, I was highly sceptical considering character descriptions like these:»Minerva Sinclair was a tall, willowy woman with stark white hair and cutting features, and her signature “look” consisted of cherry-red pantsuits, vintage cat-eye sunglasses, and knife-sharp stilettos. Per our client paperwork, she had her personal tarot reader (Imogen) on speed dial and kept her wrinkly sphynx cat (Harry) cradled against her bony chest everywhere she went, as per the guidance of her spiritual advisor (Velma).«Or eye-roll inducing humour like this:»Also, she'd literally named her hairless cat Harry, and I didn't think she'd intended the pun.«(Since it's so bad: It's not a pun because “Harry” and “hairless” lack intentional wordplay or a double meaning, and it also makes no sense phonologically.)All the characters were pretty much the literary equivalent of cardboard cutouts (Bensen, the stoic factotum; Mable and Molly, scheming twin sister housekeepers; the deceased evil, child-torturing father; Beatrice, man-eating, cheating wife who eventually left them all to go and live in Paris) and the story - matchmaker fails her customer but falls in love with him due to forced proximity and, ahem, his tongue - is almost as ridiculous as the title of the series “Bad Billionaire Bosses”.And, yet, there were some ideas expressed, some pictures painted, some writing skills acquired in the process that—despite all the stupidity—made me enjoy this novel and recover from the kitten and child torture of my previous read.»You know how sometimes you manage to convince yourself that you're fine and that everything's under perfect control when, in reality, you're barely hanging on by a frayed thread? And then something really small happens, or someone says something seemingly insignificant, and it makes you break in half?Well, I broke in half.«There's a fine line between intentional cheesiness and downright cringe-worthy missteps, and the author walks that line with a precarious yet daring confidence. At times, the rope stiffens beneath her feet, granting balance; at others, it sags, pulling her dangerously close to a full tumble into cringeworthy territory (which she skirts more often than not). Yet, despite the wobbles and near-falls, she completes the tightrope act with a redeeming bit of flair.Three stars out of five.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam
[a:Gøhril Gabrielsens 2929181 Gøhril Gabrielsen https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png] “[b:Die Einsamkeit der Seevögel 200830746 Die Einsamkeit der Seevögel Gøhril Gabrielsen https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1698428044l/200830746.SX50_SY75.jpg 207530838]” verspricht in Titel und Klapptentext eine eindrucksvolle metaphorische Verbindung zwischen Natur und menschlicher Isolation, vermag diese jedoch kaum einzulösen. Der Roman greift mehrere gewichtige Themen auf, darunter sexualisierte Gewalt, Manipulation, die fragile Mutter-Kind-Beziehung, sowie ökologische Zerbrechlichkeit sowie diejenige der neuen Beziehung – und bleibt dabei doch oberflächlich und zerfahren. Bereits die Erzählweise ist teils überbordend und schwer zugänglich. Ein Eindruck, der durch Passagen wie die folgende verstärkt wird:»Die Nachricht verschwindet. Ich sehe die Wörter vor mir: Zerstückelt, in unkenntliche Ziffern und Zeichen zerlegt, steigen sie zwischen den Schneeflocken auf, gleiten durch eine Wolkenlücke und weiter in den Satellitenhimmel, finden ihren Stern, der die Nachricht mit einem Blinken wieder zur Erde sendet.«Die Naturbilder, die Gabrielsen heraufbeschwören möchte, wirken zwar bildreich, doch wie in diesem Beispiel oft schwülstig und weitaus mehr esoterisch als bedeutungsvoll. Statt mit sprachlicher Präzision zu überzeugen, verliert sich der Text im Nebel symbolischer Überladung, ohne klare Spuren für den Leser zu hinterlassen. Dabei hätte es durchaus Potential gegeben. Gabrielsen versucht sich an historischen Einsprengseln aus dem 19. Jahrhundert, jedoch fügen sich diese nicht organisch in die Gegenwartserzählung ein und fühlen sich „dahinfantasiert“ an. Die Vorstellung, wie Isolation und Naturgewalt den Verstand verzehren können, erinnert an Werke wie [a:Emily Brontës 4191 Emily Brontë https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1529578586p2/4191.jpg] “[b:Sturmhöhe 6670684 Sturmhöhe Emily Brontë https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327371684l/6670684.SX50.jpg 1565818]”: Die harschen Moorlandschaften und das erdrückende Gefühl der Einsamkeit dienen nicht nur als Schauplatz, sondern auch als Spiegel der psychischen Zustände der Charaktere. Während Gabrielsen dies eher bruchstückhaft inszeniert, liefert Brontë ein kohärentes Zusammenspiel zwischen Mensch und Natur, das die mentale Zerbrechlichkeit in Extremsituationen (obschon anderer Natur) weitaus greifbarer macht. Doch die emotionale Tiefe und Symbolkraft jener Geschichte wird von Gabrielsen nicht erreicht. Die vielfältigen, verstreuten und unverarbeiteten Ansätze Gabrielsens haben zumindest mich unbefriedigt zurückgelassen. Viel Potential hatte diese Novelle, aber leider wird es vollständig verschenkt. Schade!Einer von fünf Sternen.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam
I decided to put in another festive romance reading “sprint” and, regrettably, I settled on [a:Tessa Bailey's 6953499 Tessa Bailey https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1634304355p2/6953499.jpg] “[b:Window Shopping 58943206 Window Shopping Tessa Bailey https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1631093429l/58943206.SY75.jpg 92892064]”. It endeavours to offer a festive romance wrapped in themes of redemption and self-discovery but, for me, falls short of expectations. While I anticipated a heartwarming holiday tale filled with charm, I instead found a collection of hurried resolutions, clichéd characterisations, and strained dynamics.Stella's characterisation was one of the main frustrations. She veers wildly between crippling insecurity and unconvincing strength, making her emotional journey feel inconsistent and unrelatable. Her conflict with her parents, which could have provided a rich emotional arc, is resolved almost instantly and without any meaningful dialogue or exploration. This lack of depth extended to Aiden as well. While he's positioned as the quintessential romantic hero, his internal monologues hint at self-satisfaction that does not endear him. His protectiveness and confidence border on the caveman trope, which made certain interactions feel clumsy rather than endearing.The chemistry between Stella and Aiden is another mixed bag. Aiden's cavalier intensity might work in other contexts, but here it veered into cringe territory, especially with lines like:»up and down the rigid stalk of his arousal«Such phrasing, rather than adding to the tension, made the scenes unintentionally comedic.Worse still, the subplots and secondary characters were thinly developed. Stella's friend Nicole, for instance, transitions from toxic to reformed in the blink of an eye after a short, unconvincing conversation. This superficiality pervades much of the narrative, undermining its emotional beats.Yet another letdown was the lack of authentic Christmas spirit. While the premise suggested a cosy holiday backdrop, the festive vibes felt more like an afterthought. Instead of immersing readers in seasonal charm, the story felt rushed and mechanical, missing the emotional resonance that holiday romances often deliver.While I appreciated Stella's stance on “no favouritism,” there was little else for me to connect with.Two stars out of five.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam
On a mere whim, on 24 December, I decided I wanted to read a holiday romance during the holiday it depicts. Consulting my library, I quickly settled upon “[b:In a Holidaze 50892287 In a Holidaze Christina Lauren https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1601590329l/50892287.SY75.jpg 75786905]” by [a:Christina Lauren 6556689 Christina Lauren https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1730746046p2/6556689.jpg] which turned out to be a mixed bag but still effectively did the job. Between holiday chores (when my wife asked me to do something “steamy”, I didn't expect it to involve the steam cleaner!). Late at night today, I finished it (the novel, not the cleaner). Mission accomplished.“Holidaze” started exactly as I hoped it would: Two families coming together in a cabin to celebrate Christmas, lots of holiday cheer, endearing characters—it was fun!The “Groundhog Day” style time loop device was, thankfully, used sparingly, but this still was the first minor gripe of mine: »I believe now that the universe delivers random acts of kindness, and it's on us to decide what to do with them.«Attributing intention, kindness, or actually anything beyond its mere existence to “the universe” is misplaced. What we may interpret as kindness, cruelty, or serendipity is simply the happenstance of nature and probability.Maelyn, the female protagonist, was amusing to read about and I really liked when she started not just going with the flow after a short “learning curve”, but, sadly, out of a sense of fatalism, started stepping up her game, actively taking responsibility not only for herself but also for the people around her.»All I know is that the sound of my loved ones' laughter bouncing off the hillside is the best sound I've ever heard. Another small victory.«In contrast, Andrew, for whom Maelyn has been pining for merely 13 years, stays rather bland and generic. He is obviously into her but also never acted upon it and if Maelyn hadn't taken the initiative, nothing ever would have changed. This is a part I really enjoyed:»A rebellious streak races through me. “It's more like, I see my life stretching out ahead of me and figure, why not go for what I want?”“Jam and applesauce on your blintzes,” he jokes. “Cocktails on the porch. Snowball fights.”The word rockets from me: “You.”[...]Adrenaline spikes my blood. “Yeah. Like that.”«Communication, as always, is key, and at least Maelyn is good at it.»“And if there's one thing that we did perfectly, it was talking and being transparent and honest with each other right from the start. Right away, we talked. I can't think of anyone else in the world I've ever felt that comfortable with.”«Of course, there was the usual, somewhat frustrating, third-act breakup—imagine being held accountable for a drunken dream—and plenty of teenage behaviour.Also, my aforementioned steam cleaner was a lot hotter and far steamier than this novel. Bah!Nevertheless, this was a nice, fun, albeit easily forgettable holiday romcom which garners three stars out of five from me. Happy holidays!Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam
I don't like novellas. They're mostly too short to make any kind of impact and simply aren't enough of a “bite”. At best, they're like chewing gum.So it was out of pure curiosity that I decided to read “[b:Dashing All the Way 221764632 Dashing All the Way Chelsea Curto https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1732141858l/221764632.SY75.jpg 228758912]”, a novella by [a:Chelsea Curto 20681411 Chelsea Curto https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1656107823p2/20681411.jpg], after it got heartily endorsed by [a:Samantha Brinn 48996679 Samantha Brinn https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1710660675p2/48996679.jpg] (whom you should know as an author for her great “[b:When I'm With You 220225863 When I'm With You (Laws of You) Samantha Brinn https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1728399272l/220225863.SY75.jpg 222416176]”).The story is simple: Being told what she cannot do by her now-ex-boyfriend, Jeremy, Margo moves to accomplish just that, and, in the process, falls for his father, Finn—just in time for Christmas.What follows is the warm-hearted, sometimes raw, and always honest tale of how a one-night stand evolves into something very different over the course of two weeks. It is nicely told, well-paced, and very, very steamy.Nothing feels out of place, everything makes sense, there's just enough story to satisfy my reading needs, and an amusing inevitable ending. What more could I wish for?Five stars out of five.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam