The Hard Way by Lee Child

Sometimes You Just Want a Man With Skills… and Zero Emotional Baggage

I just finished The Hard Way by Lee Child and I loved it! Jack Reacher is back to stomping around New York like a one-man wrecking ball with superb manners. This one hooked me immediately. The setup is clean, sharp, and about as subtle as a brick through a window. Reacher helps a guy whose wife and daughter have been kidnapped… and somehow this “simple” good-deed moment unravels into layers of mercenaries, messy marriages, bad decisions, and a whole lot of 'wait...what?'

This is one of those books where Reacher does what he does best: Observe, deduce, intimidate, and occasionally remind a man that bones can bend before they break. No wandering, no filler chapters about someone’s potato salad recipe, no steamy sex scenes, just straight, relentless pacing. I loved the supporting characters and the twist at the end that I never saw coming. 

My only complaint is that now I want more Reacher, immediately, and unfortunately time does not allow me to ignore everything else in my life to binge the rest of the entire series (although I have considered it). Excellent book. A total return to what makes Reacher Reacher: decisive, unbothered, and eighteen steps ahead of everyone else.

Extraction by Jodi Burnett

Took a while for the book to remember it was supposed to be exciting.

I just finished listening to Extraction by Jodi Burnett. This one and I had a slow-burn relationship. And not the good, romantic kind. The “Can we pick up the pace?” kind. The story starts off like it’s easing me into a warm bath, except I showed up for murder, mayhem, and U.S. Marshals doing cool tactical things.

But around chapter five it finally wakes up, and I was at 63% before I was fully invested. The pace picked up, the danger got real, and suddenly I stopped checking how many hours were left.

Dirk and Hank were excellent. Exactly what I want in hero characters: Competent, loyal, a bit battered, and just flawed enough to be interesting. I’d read an entire spin-off about those two grumbling their way through dangerous situations.

Emory, though… I wanted to like her. I tried. But for a Chief in a U.S. Marshals office, she came across far too soft. Sentimental. A little sappy. And yes, I know I lean heavily toward the “tough as nails, emotionally unavailable, drinks strong, black coffee straight from the pot” type of heroine, but still. You don’t get to be Chief by wringing your hands and hoping for the best.

Meanwhile, we have Ceylon crossing oceans, scraping together money, and hell-bent on stopping her father from carrying out a violent mission. Now that is grit. In fact, I kept wishing she had been the central female lead. She had the backbone, the determination, and the emotional complexity that the story was begging for.

Overall I’m glad I stuck with it. The second half delivers the tension and action I expected from page one. It’s not perfect, but it’s engaging once it finds its footing, even if I spent the first chunk wondering whether I accidentally wandered into the wrong audiobook.

If you like heroic men with depth, dangerous missions, and a few emotional detours you didn’t ask for, it’s worth a listen. Just know you’ll need to wade through a slow start before the explosions kick in.

11th Hour by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro

Trust, maybe also verify … with your husband, not the random other woman.

11th Hour by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro lands solidly at four out of five stars for me mostly because I enjoy chaos, and this book delivered it in two neatly packed storylines. But before we get to the severed heads (yes, plural), we need to talk about Lindsay.

Look, I adore Lindsay Boxer, but in this one? For crying out loud, Lindsay. Grow up.

I found myself disappointed in how quickly she jumped to conclusions about Joe. I get it. Pregnancy hormones can turn even the sanest among us into caffeinated raccoons. But taking the alleged other woman’s word as gospel? Really? Sometimes “other women” lie, exaggerate, or, you know… exist only to stir the pot. It is unbelievable to me that Lindsay didn’t think to sit down with Joe and communicate like an actual adult. I thought that was the bare-minimum requirement for marriage. Communication. And maybe not accusing your husband of cheating based on a picture of him smiling at someone.

But fine. Let’s move on to the parts that didn’t make me want to yell into a pillow.

The dual storylines worked well here. The cop-turned-vigilante I understood. Even though I could definitely empathize given the life I have with my own son, he really went around the bend. He’s basically the cautionary tale in those Facebook memes: "Crochet. Because murder is wrong."

And then… the heads. Plural. Displayed like some bizarre suburban art installation, with no bodies anywhere to be found. Holy cow. That was the hook that dragged me through the book at a sprint. Every time Lindsay walked onto that property, I swear I held my breath like I was the one about to find head number eight.

Overall, I was glued to the page, even if I occasionally wanted to put Lindsay in a time-out chair and hand her a communication workbook. This was a solid entry in the series, just not my favorite version of my favorite detective.

Syndicate by Felix Francis

“Irresistible,” said the New York Times. I must’ve read a different book.

Syndicate by Felix Francis didn’t grab me the way some of his others have. Usually, I fall into his racing world right away, but this time it felt like slogging through mud until halfway in. Once things finally picked up, I was mildly curious to see where it went...but “irresistible”? No.

All the main characters struck me as whiny, and not in an endearing, flawed-human kind of way. More like, “Please stop talking and let the horses run.” I expect a bit more grit, a bit more urgency, and a lot less complaining in a Francis novel.

That said, it’s still Felix Francis. The writing’s solid, and once the pace found its stride, it held my attention enough to see it through. But compared to Crossfire or Triple Crown, this one just doesn’t measure up. It wasn't terrible, but it definitely was not a Front Runner (which was also very good).

Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal by Meghan Quinn

Some books make you laugh. Some make you cry. This one made me question every choice that led me to page one.

I don’t even know where to start with Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal. Maybe with an apology to myself for finishing it. I only picked it up because I joined a new book club, and this was their December pick. I’m really hoping they branch out next time, maybe to something with a plot or characters who behave like actual humans.

Let’s begin with the narrator who, for reasons known only to Meghan Quinn and possibly the Ghost of Christmas Bad Decisions, keeps popping in mid-story to talk directly to the reader. Imagine watching a Hallmark movie, and every five minutes the director runs in front of the camera to wink and say, “Get it? Isn’t this cute?” No, sir, it is not.

Then there are the conversations, which are... I’ll be polite and say “painfully awkward.” Every line of dialogue sounds like it was written by someone who’s never actually spoken to another human. The characters themselves are so unrealistic they make Barbie look gritty. The sex scenes read like someone let ChatGPT write Fifty Shades of Peppermint Bark. I rolled my eyes so much they almost got stuck in the back of my skull.

If you’re looking for depth, chemistry, or believable human interaction, keep walking. But if you enjoy secondhand embarrassment wrapped in tinsel and topped with a talking narrator who won’t shut up, Merry Christmas, you filthy animal.

The Lady with the Gun Asks the Questions by Kerry Greenwood

 At some point, you have to admit defeat — even to a lady with a gun.

I’ve tried. Truly, I have. The Lady With the Gun Asks the Questions by Kerry Greenwood has been sitting on my nightstand for months now, staring at me like a disappointed librarian. I’ve picked it up at least four times, determined to make it past the first chapter, but every time I do… my brain just quietly leaves the room.

It’s not that I don’t like Phryne Fisher. She may be fascinating. But something about this collection just didn’t click for me. Maybe it’s the pacing, maybe it’s the style, or maybe it’s just not the right book at the right time. Whatever the reason, I’m officially DNF’ing this one.

Not every book finds its reader, and that’s okay. On to the next adventure (hopefully one that keeps me awake past page ten).

Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter

More twists than a soap opera set in a funhouse mirror maze.

That about sums up Pretty Girls. I closed this book feeling like my brain had just been wrung out, dried on high heat, and tossed back at me with a note that said, You still think you know people?

This one is a psychological wrecking ball. Karin Slaughter doesn’t just pull the rug out. She yanks up the floorboards and sets the house on fire. Sometimes literally. 

At the heart of the story are sisters Claire and Lydia, estranged for years after the disappearance of their sister Julia. Claire became the picture of privilege and avoidance, while Lydia spiraled into addiction and anger. Their paths couldn’t have diverged more until tragedy forces them back together. And from there every layer of their lives starts to peel back, revealing something uglier underneath.

Honestly, I wasn’t surprised by how Claire and Lydia’s relationship evolved. People handle trauma in different ways, Claire avoided conflict, Lydia self-destructed. What mattered more to me was that they eventually saved each other. And I love when fiction lets women do that: Rescue themselves and each other instead of waiting for a hero.

As for revenge… let’s just say what happened to Paul wasn’t revenge. It was justice, served cold and outside the boundaries of a very corrupt system. And I didn’t feel bad about it for a single second.

Julia’s disappearance haunts every page. You can feel how it shaped the family, especially Lydia, who becomes almost feral in her protectiveness of her daughter. The ripple of trauma runs deep, and Slaughter never lets you forget that.

The violence in this book is brutal, but it belongs here. It’s supposed to make you flinch. It’s supposed to remind you that monsters often look normal, that horror hides in the ordinary. Claire’s transformation from “pretty” to powerful is what balances it out. She starts shallow and unaware but ends as a survivor who finally sees the truth - and herself - for what they are.

Money and charm might hide the darkness, but they don’t erase it. Paul didn’t have to stalk Claire; he already had her life wired, watched, and probably filmed. Behind the perfect façade was pure rot. It’s a sobering reminder that appearances mean nothing, and safety is sometimes an illusion we buy into because it’s easier than facing what’s real.

By the end, Claire, Lydia, and their mother Helen stand stronger than they began. They’ve faced the worst and found some measure of peace. The ghosts will always linger, sure, but they’ll face them together this time.

Pretty Girls is not for the faint of heart, but if you like your thrillers dark, emotional, and unflinchingly honest about the worst parts of human nature, it’s worth the wreckage.

The Night Window by Dean Koontz (Jane Hawk #5)

 A satisfying finale, even if we took the scenic route to get there.

The Night Window by Dean Koontz is the final book in the Jane Hawk series, and I have to say—the ending did not disappoint. Everything came together neatly, with Jane finally getting the justice she’d been chasing since book one. That said, I couldn’t help but feel this series could’ve been trimmed down a bit. Five books was a long road for a story that probably could’ve been told in three. Still, Koontz delivered a solid, tense conclusion that made sticking with it worthwhile.

Nothing to Fear by Blake Pierce

 Nothing to fear...except a slow start and maybe a French cop with good timing.

I started Nothing to Fear as an audiobook, thinking it would be the perfect way to make my commute feel less like a slow crawl through purgatory. It worked, at least after the first few chapters. The story starts off like a slow simmer rather than a rolling boil. I didn’t exactly feel the need to sit in my car after work just to see what happened next… at least not at first.

But once it got going, it really got going. The suspense picked up, Juliette got her act together, and I found myself completely hooked Thursday evening, listening straight through instead of switching back to a paperback.

Juliette, our FBI heroine, didn’t start out as strong as I hoped. She felt a little tentative, a little too careful, but she found her backbone as the story went on. By the end, she had that “don’t mess with me” energy I love in a main character. And I have to admit, the French policeman asking her out at the end was a cute touch. After all that danger, it was nice to have a little charm and normalcy thrown in.

Overall, Nothing to Fear was a solid listen. A bit of a slow burn, but satisfying once it hit its stride. I wouldn’t necessarily go back for a second listen, but I’m glad I spent a few days in Juliette’s world.

Under the Whispering Door by T.J. Klune

He found love, purpose, and inner peace… after a fatal heart attack. Timing is everything.

My coworker recommended Under the Whispering Door and said, “It’s not my usual genre. It's ...  different. You'll see.” My copy came available on Libby yesterday, so I read it today.

Wallace Price dies right at the beginning, and honestly, he kind of deserved it. He’s a miserable human being: Greedy, selfish, and generally unpleasant to everyone who crosses his path. If he were a coffee order, he’d be a double shot of espresso with no milk, no sugar, no joy, and double the bitterness.

After his untimely demise, Wallace is “rescued” from his own funeral by Mei, a Reaper who’s just trying to do her job, and taken to Hugo, the ferryman who helps souls cross over. But before Wallace can pass through the “whispering door,” he has to go through the five stages of grief about himself. Because dying doesn’t mean you stop being a jerk in the afterlife, apparently.

The heart of the story is that Wallace has to die to learn how to live. Along the way, he discovers empathy, love, and even falls for Hugo, the man who makes tea for the dead. It’s all very warm and tender and meant to tug at your emotions.

And yet... meh.

It’s not that the book is bad. The concept is interesting, and I genuinely like the idea of an afterlife where you can have a second chance at becoming a better person. I want that for myself when the time comes. But the humor didn’t land for me, and the tone sometimes felt uneven, like Klune wasn’t sure whether he was trying to make me laugh or cry. He didn’t quite do either.

That said, it wasn’t a total waste of time. I can see why some readers adore it. It’s comforting, hopeful, and full of tea. It just wasn’t my cup.

I would recommend it if you like cozy fantasy with a side of self-reflection. But if you’re like me and prefer your stories with a bit more grit or suspense, you might find yourself wishing Wallace would just go through the darn door already. Or wishing you could give him a shove.

Outsider by Linda Castillo (Burkholder #12)

Different doesn’t mean dumb — and honesty doesn’t mean easy. 

Kate Burkholder is one of those characters who just keeps growing on me. In Outsider, Linda Castillo gives us more of Kate’s backstory, both her Amish roots and her early years in law enforcement, and I felt like I got to know her on a deeper level. Her integrity, empathy, and honesty are such defining traits, and this book shows where they came from.

One of my favorite moments was when Kate remembered her mother’s words:

“Live your life with God’s goodness and you’ll never fear the past.”

That line sums up the heart of this story. If you live your life with integrity, the past can’t come back to bite you. Kate’s confrontation with corruption in the police department hits hard because honesty is her core value. She’s loyal to a fault, though, and she can’t help wondering if she could have saved Gina from her own bad choices. But as Gina’s character developed, it was clear Kate did the right thing by walking away.

Gina’s reappearance gave Castillo the perfect opportunity to explore what makes Kate Kate. The tension between them, Kate’s honesty versus Gina’s willingness to cross lines, kept the emotional stakes high. I think Kate trusted Gina completely in the beginning, but Gina never truly trusted Kate. She knew Kate wouldn’t stand for corruption, and that’s the wall she built between them.

The snowstorm setting was another great touch. I’ve been in storms like that. The kind that muffle sound and make the world feel both peaceful and eerie. The isolation added so much to the suspense. And as always, the contrast of dark crimes unfolding in a serene Amish setting deepened the story.

I honestly believe that if it hadn’t been for the storm, Gina would’ve ended up in a cell. Kate’s an honest, by-the-book cop who still manages to show compassion. She would have done the right thing, even if she second-guessed herself afterward.

Kate and Tomasetti just need to get married already. Seriously. Now. They act like they already are! He’s her rock, and she needs to stop questioning what’s right in front of her. I wonder if Castillo gets to that in one of the future books in the series. I hope so, anyway.

The pacing was perfect: Enough slow-burn tension to keep me glued to the page, and bursts of action when it mattered most. Justice felt served by the end. Even though Gina took out the two corrupt cops chasing her, bigger fish still got caught in that slimy pond of police corruption.

Adam was an excellent supporting character. His quiet intelligence, empathy, and strength stood out, especially when he told Gina, “Different doesn’t mean dumb.” That line hit home for me personally, coming from my own experience leaving an isolated religious group. Adam’s presence and his role as a father trying to protect his kids added heart and extra tension to the story.

Linda Castillo continues to impress me with how real and grounded these stories feel. Outsider doesn’t just deliver a great mystery. It deepens Kate’s character in a way that sticks with you. She’s strong but self-aware, empathetic but tough, and human in all the right ways. By the time I finished, I wasn’t just satisfied with the ending. I was reminded why I keep coming back to this series.

The Forbidden Door by Dean Koontz (Jane Hawk #4)

They should have known better than to come for her family. 

I read The Forbidden Door by Dean Koontz a few months ago. It’s the fourth book in the Jane Hawk series and I somehow forgot to post about it. Which is funny, because this one’s all about things you can’t forget, no matter how hard you try.

Jane is still on the run, still brilliant, still outsmarting everyone who underestimates her, and this time, the stakes hit home. The government conspiracy she’s been fighting finally comes after her son, and the whole “unstoppable lone wolf with a past” thing takes on a fierce, maternal edge.

This installment is packed with tension and emotion. There’s less of the cat-and-mouse setup and more pure survival, which works because by this point, we know Jane. She’s capable, haunted, and a little terrifying in the best way.

If you’ve been following the series, don't miss this one. Just maybe don’t start here. Go back to The Silent Corner first so you can appreciate how far she’s come and how much she’s lost.

Treasure State by CJ Box (Highway Quartet #6)

 Revenge is a dish best served cold. 

C.J. Box never disappoints. Treasure State is another tense, tightly written Cassie Dewell novel, and I loved every page of it. Five out of five stars, hands down.

The pacing was perfect. It wasn’t one of those books that kept me up all night, but the urgency stayed with me long after I put it down. The danger felt real. Montana has a lot of wide-open nothing, and when the sheriff’s department is corrupt, “help” can be hours away. I kept hoping Cassie wouldn’t end up tossed down an abandoned mine before she could find anyone to trust.

I actually knew who the bad guys were pretty early, but I had no clue about the treasure. I kept thinking it was a ruse. It never occurred to me it could be in another state. That twist was brilliant.

One of the things I love about Box’s writing is how true he stays to time. Cassie is older now, and so is Kyle, who reappears from a previous book. I love that sense of continuity. Cassie feels like a real person, aging, learning, still fighting the good fight. And Kyle is one of my favorites. Guileless, big-hearted, and a little too trusting for his own good. I was glad Cassie got the chance to help him again.

The undersheriff, on the other hand, was Evil with a capital E. Throwing people into abandoned mines as a problem-solving technique is not just “villain energy”. That’s “padded room with a cute self-hugging jacket” territory.

Cassie, as always, walks that line between using the system and working outside of it. If she can find someone honest, she’ll team up. If not, she’ll handle it herself. Either way, justice gets served.

Box’s straightforward writing style and small cast of characters make the story clean and easy to follow, something I really appreciate as a middle school teacher who already deals with enough confusion in a day. I can read in short stretches and still keep my place, which is not always the case with twisty thrillers.

The setting is Absolutely Perfect. Box clearly knows the Midwest and Montana. Having taken a train through the state myself, I could easily picture the mountains, the cold, the endless space ... and that just adds to the tension. Help is hours away. What will Cassie do if she runs into trouble?

If I were in her shoes, I’d have taken the case too. It started as a simple missing-person investigation and ended up a tale of corruption and murder. Who knew? Loved it.