No Prisoners by Ellis Blake

 Nothing is wasted, nothing is random, and sleep is not an option.

No Prisoners starts quietly, almost deceptively so. Hannah’s husband has been missing for three weeks. There are no solid leads, no dramatic breakthroughs, and the detective assigned to the case has essentially stalled out. At first, it feels like a straightforward missing persons investigation ... sad, frustrating, but contained.

Then Hannah realizes someone is following her.

From that moment on, the story tightens its grip and refuses to let go. What unfolds is a steadily escalating thriller where nothing is quite what it seems, and every new detail subtly shifts your understanding of what’s really happening. This book doesn’t rely on shock for shock’s sake; instead, it builds tension brick by brick until you suddenly realize you’re reading way past your bedtime.

One of the strongest aspects of this novel is how precise it is. There’s nothing superfluous here. Every scene, every detail serves a purpose. Ellis Blake trusts the reader to pay attention, and that trust pays off in a twisty, deeply satisfying way. The moment I read that Hannah was being followed, I was all in. Sleep became optional. Regrets were minimal.

There is mention of domestic violence. It is not a recurring or graphic theme, but it is present and may be difficult for some readers.

As for critiques, this is one of those rare cases where I don’t have much to nitpick. The pacing is deliberate rather than flashy, which may not work for readers who want nonstop action right out of the gate, but for me, that slow, creeping tension is exactly what made the payoff so effective.

This is absolutely a book for readers who love psychological thrillers, unreliable situations, and stories where the unease grows quietly until it’s impossible to ignore. If you enjoy thrillers that reward close reading and leave you thinking long after you close the book, this one is for you.

Five out of five stars. I only hand out my highest praise when a book costs me sleep. No Prisoners definitely did.

A special thank you to Penguin Random House for providing this book for review consideration via NetGallery. All opinions are my own.

Lies and Bones by RJ Law (Det. Tracy Sterling #1)

 A solid crime novel where sexism talks louder than evidence and the wrong people refuse to listen.

Tracy is the kind of character I immediately root for: a woman following in her father’s footsteps, doing the job because she wants it and not because of who her dad was. Of course, that doesn’t stop everyone around her from accusing her of riding his coattails. She’s told she won’t amount to half the cop he was, and when she makes mistakes (you know, because she’s human?), it only reinforces their assumptions.

What really got under my skin is that Tracy was on the right track. She made one mistake, got pulled from the case, and after that no one would listen to her. Not because she was wrong but because she was inconvenient.

Then there’s Bradley. Ugh.

Bradley is a condescending, know-it-all slob who clearly believes he’s better than any woman within breathing distance. His attitude alone made my blood pressure spike. He talks down to Tracy constantly, dismisses her instincts, and treats basic respect like it’s optional. Unfortunately, he also felt uncomfortably realistic. Cops like him exist, and that made him even harder to stomach.

John was more complicated. I sympathized with him at first; he liked Tracy and genuinely wanted to help her. But he worked alongside Bradley, and that limited what he was willing to do. My feelings shifted when John, too, refused to listen to Tracy and instead told her she sounded crazy and needed some sleep. Which… come on. In a murder investigation, isn’t a little crazy kind of the baseline?

Bradley’s version of events was the one I trusted the least from the very beginning. His lack of respect for Tracy immediately made me question his credibility. If you can’t take someone seriously, why should I take you seriously?

Jimmy Hunter, the former cop turned PI, was an interesting secondary character. I still don’t quite know what to make of him. He bends the rules sometimes and sticks to them other times, like he’s operating under a personal code only he understands. I’m guessing he’s the kind of character who makes more sense the more you read assuming he shows up again later in the series.

As for pacing, it worked. I didn’t lose sleep, but I also didn’t skim or skip ahead. No filler, no dragging, no unnecessary drama. I appreciated that most about this book.

No romance. No hysterics. No flashy twists for shock value. Just real people doing real jobs, making real mistakes, in real time. Well, not really real, but you know what I mean.

Lies and Bones isn’t trying to be clever or trendy. It’s just a good, solid crime novel that knows exactly what it is.

Close By by Blake Pierce

'Not human. Not human.’ 

That line alone made this audiobook leave my car and follow me home.

I usually only listen to audiobooks in the car. It's my strict rule. Commute only. Close By broke that rule.

The moment I knew this audiobook wasn’t staying in my car was during the second murder, when the victim is running for her life thinking, “Not human. Not human.” That was it. Couch listening activated. Shoes still on. Priorities reassessed.

The book hooks you immediately with a murder that feels almost inevitable. A geologist is warned to stay away from a site after dark. He ignores that warning. If this were a horror movie, he’d be the person hiding behind the one tree in an open field. You know something terrible is coming—you just don’t know exactly how bad it’s going to be. That sense of dread never really lets up.

What really sets Close By apart is how deeply it weaves in Native American spirituality and culture. The respect for the earth, the heavens, and everything in between felt genuine and thoughtfully handled. It wasn’t flashy or overdone; it just made sense. Pure in a way that grounded the story rather than distracting from it.

Kari, our main character, stands with one foot in two worlds: Her mother’s Navajo culture and her father’s white culture. Watching her navigate both with respect, intelligence, and purpose was one of the strongest parts of the book. She doesn’t reject either side. She uses both to solve the murders, and that balance felt authentic and earned.

Audiobook-wise, listening definitely slowed me down. If I’d had a paperback, I’d have torn through this in half the time. That said, the narrator did a solid job, emotion where it mattered, emphasis in the right places, and no vocal gymnastics that make you cringe. Always appreciated.

Kari was front and center for me the entire time, but I wanted to slap the conceited FBI agent on her behalf. Gently. With a 2 x 4. He was insufferable. The kind of character who exists solely to make you mutter, “Ugh, this guy again,” every time he shows up.

The setting did a lot of the heavy lifting when it came to tension. These murders happen on sacred land, and that alone adds a layer of unease that seeps into every scene. You don’t just feel like crimes are being committed. You feel like something deeper is being violated.

This was my first Blake Pierce book, but it won’t be my last. These are exactly the kinds of thrillers I love: crime-focused, atmospheric, culturally rich, and unapologetically dark.

And for the record, there’s no sweaty sex, no romance, no flowers. Just pure, unadulterated murder and mayhem.

Which is exactly how I like it.

Murder On Site by TG Wolff

 My first TG Wolff book—and definitely not my last.

When Inspector Lucy Torok is murdered and dumped at a construction site, the case quickly becomes complicated legally, politically, and personally. Newly appointed interim Attorney General Jakob Rizk is tasked with prosecuting the case, and his twin brother Seth flies in to help. From there, the story weaves through dirty politics, competing construction companies, and a young engineer who appears to be framed, all while keeping the focus on character and momentum rather than getting bogged down in technical detail.

The real hook for me was the dynamic between the twins. Jakob is serious and academic, while Seth brings humor and mischief, and their interactions added warmth and levity to an otherwise serious story. While this isn’t a thriller, I had a hard time putting it down. Wolff balances legal intrigue, police work, and political maneuvering without overwhelming the reader, keeping the twists coming and the pages turning. The Indianapolis setting gave the story a solid mid-sized city feel which is important to the plot without overshadowing it.

Content-wise, the book includes the sudden death of a close friend and a suicide attempt by the accused engineer. These moments were handled thoughtfully and realistically, without unnecessary drama. The characters felt fully developed and familiar very quickly, from Jakob navigating his new role, to Seth hiding his own problems to support his brother, to the sharp and capable detectives and the less admirable political players. Based on my rating system, this earned 5 out of 5 stars. Any book that keeps me reading past my bedtime gets top marks. Readers who enjoy legal mysteries with strong characters and a touch more humor than a typical John Grisham novel should find this a great fit. I’ll definitely be reading more from TG Wolff and hope this turns into a series.

A special thank you to Tule Publishing for providing this book for review consideration via NetGallery. All opinions are my own.

The Darkest Game by Alex Sigmore (Oak Creek #1)

Started reading. Cancelled plans. Finished stiff, tired, and slightly unhinged.

Dead, unidentified bodies dumped by a creek which is clearly not the original crime scene will cancel my plans and cost me sleep every single time. The Darkest Game didn’t ease into that chaos either. It kicked the door in, stole my free evening, and dared me to look away. I didn’t. One sitting later, I was stiff, tired, and very glad I’d ignored real life.

The tension in this book pays off immediately. There’s a constant urgency to the storytelling, like something is about to explode and you’re powerless to stop it. The pacing kept me glued, and just when I thought I had a handle on where things were going ... wrong again.

And then there’s Mona’s father.

I did not see that coming. Disturbing doesn’t even begin to cover it. The man needs a team of psychiatrists, possibly on rotation, because his level of psychological manipulation is next-level unhinged. The mind games here are brutal, the kind that leave you questioning everything and wondering how deep the damage really goes. And that explained a lot about Mona.

Charlotte is the character who’s going to stick with me. Losing the ability to do a job you love hit me. Her struggle added an emotional weight to the story that grounded all the madness and made the stakes feel personal, not just procedural.

Genre-wise, this one refuses to choose. It’s a thriller wrapped in psychological torture, and at times I genuinely didn’t know if I was coming or going. Especially after that reveal. Yeah. Mona’s father again.

Final verdict: Five out of five stars. Don’t start this at bedtime unless you’ve already slept all day. Thriller fans will absolutely eat this up.

One Dark Night by Alex Sigmore (Ivy Bishop #5)

Sleep is for people who aren’t trying to piece together a trauma-induced memory gap before the next body drops.

This was one of those cancel-your-plans, stay-up-too-late, “just one more chapter” books. One Dark Night had me completely hooked. I went in thinking I’d read a few chapters before bed and ended up bleary-eyed, muttering, “Just one more” until sunrise.

Ivy Bishop is dealing with trauma-induced memory gaps, never a good sign in a thriller, and she’s determined to fill them in. Naturally, the process involves danger, betrayal, and people who really should’ve minded their own business. (Yeah you, Nat.) Nat’s the kind of character who barrels ahead on half-truths and hunches, breaking laws like they’re speed limits on an empty highway. What she did was so egregious I started out thinking she was the villain. She’s a walking, talking example of what happens when you “assume.”

Jonathan, on the other hand, is the emotional anchor here and somehow manages to do it without turning the story into a Hallmark moment. He’s the quiet, loyal type who doesn’t realize he’s in love with Ivy, but you sure do. He moves mountains for her, saves her life, and keeps believing in her even when things get ugly. Ten out of ten; would trust him in an apocalypse.

When the story twisted back to Ivy’s mom being the origin of the whole nightmare, I had an honest-to-God “oh crap” moment. Pages turned themselves after that. By the end, justice was served, the bad guy was done for, and karma got the final word, which is my favorite kind of ending.

I later found out this is book five in the Ivy Bishop series, but it stands perfectly on its own. Now I’m planning to hunt down the rest because clearly Alex Sigmore knows how to write a thriller that doesn’t let go. If you’re a fan of Lee Child but wish his stories had a bit more psychological grit, this series will scratch that itch.

Five stars, no hesitation. Murder, mayhem, and just a touch of feeling, exactly the balance I like.

Where Angels Go by Debbie Macomber

If angels ran like customer service reps, this would be their training manual.

I gave Where Angels Go by Debbie Macomber 3 out of 5 stars because I followed my rating system like a responsible adult. I am not Christian, I don’t believe in angels, and I’m generally skeptical of any story that assumes divine intervention works like a very polite customer service department. So right out of the gate, this book and I were never going to be soulmates.

The story follows three Prayer Ambassadors who are assigned prayers to answer. Shirley handles Carter, whose Christmas wish is a dog (honestly, the most relatable prayer in the book). Mercy is assigned to Harry Alderwood, who is nearing the end of his life and praying that his wife of 65 years will be taken care of after he’s gone. Goodness focuses on Beth, who is afraid to love again after a truly disastrous first marriage, while her mother, Joyce, prays for Beth to find love again. Subtle, this book is not.

And of course, every prayer is answered, because this is a Debbie Macomber book and the angels do not miss deadlines. It’s sweet. It’s comforting. It’s very much a Hallmark movie in book form. For me, it also lived well beyond the realm of believability, but I can appreciate what it’s trying to do.

This is a warm, gentle, feel-good read that goes down fast and leaves no emotional bruising. It didn’t convert me, move me spiritually, or make me believe in angels, but it passed the time pleasantly enough. If you enjoy sentimental, faith-based stories with guaranteed happy outcomes, this one will probably be right up your alley.

A Cut Above by Janice Angelique

Not all salon gossip is about bad bangs and messy breakups. 

Some of it can get you killed.

A Cut Above by Janice Angelique starts with what sounds like a perfectly reasonable post-retirement plan: Marie Greenbrooks leaves the FBI and buys a hair salon with her daughter, Ellie. Marie wants peace, quiet, and absolutely no drama. Which is adorable, because this is a hair salon, and also because some of the employees are using it as a front for criminal activity. Oops.

The salon setting is one of the strongest parts of this book. Hair salons are made for gossip and cliques, and Angelique clearly understands that. The smoking group, the personality clashes, the employee turnover, it all felt very real. The first third of the book takes its time setting up the space and the people in it, and while it’s a slower start, I actually appreciated it. By the time things went sideways, these weren’t just “characters”. They were people I had opinions about. And those opinions changed more than once.

This isn’t a heart-pounding thriller, and it’s not trying to be. The pacing and tone lean much more toward cozy mystery, with a crime-fiction edge. The book doesn’t start out dark or sinister, even though it eventually deals with serious subject matter. There’s also a light romantic spark involving Ellie and an FBI agent, just enough to make me smile, not enough to push this into romance territory.

Content-wise, the story references human trafficking and drug abuse, which could be triggering for some readers. There is also some profanity, though it’s censored with asterisks. Personally, I didn’t think the profanity was necessary at all. A simple “the language was colorful” would have done the job without making me mentally fill in the blanks.

What really worked for me was the way the story unfolded. I enjoyed getting to know the characters, watching the salon dynamics play out, and trying to figure out who was involved while hoping the missing employee was still alive. Marie stepping back into investigator mode was especially satisfying, and I can absolutely see the potential for this to become a series. If Marie and Ellie keep the salon, I’d happily keep reading.

Final verdict: ★★★★☆ (4/5)

I didn’t cancel plans or stay up all night, but I was engaged the whole way through. My only real eye-rolls came courtesy of Roy hitting on Peter (sir, please stop), and I did notice a few punctuation hiccups, but that’s a me problem. Overall, this was a solid, enjoyable read that I’d confidently recommend to fans of cozy mysteries and lighter crime fiction. Thriller junkies and spicy romance readers should probably look elsewhere.

A special thank you to Ms. Angelique for providing this book for review consideration via NetGallery. All opinions are my own.

Blue Smoke by Nora Roberts

 Turns out when Nora Roberts dials down the spice and lights a fire, I’m all in.

I don’t usually reach for Nora Roberts. Too much spice and not enough plot, at least for me. Truth be told, I reached for it because the Rusty Book Club is having a January challenge: To read a book with a blue cover. I figure a title with the word blue in it has to have a blue cover. 

Blue Smoke surprised me, and I genuinely enjoyed it. Catarina Hale (Reena, if you’re family or friend) is a cop, a firefighter, and an arson investigator, and she’s tops at all three. Fire isn’t just part of her job; it’s practically a character in her life. Her family's pizzeria burned when she was a child, two former boyfriends died in fires, and danger seems to circle her whether she wants it to or not. Still, Reena doesn’t need rescuing. She’s competent, tough, and emotionally grounded, exactly the kind of strong female lead I’m always rooting for.

Then there’s Bowen Goodnight. Bo had a wild streak once, but the death of a friend forced him to grow up. Now he’s built a solid life and runs his own business. He’s not whiny, not needy, and not looking for someone to fix him. He is searching for “Dream Girl,” a woman he glimpsed for seconds at a party and never forgot. It takes a while, but when these two finally collide, it feels earned. (That part of the story created suspense on its own.)

As Reena investigates a series of fires, anonymous calls begin, and it becomes clear that someone is targeting her and the people she loves. That’s where the book really hooked me. I’ll admit I skimmed the sex scenes to get back to the mystery, careful not to skip too far and miss something important. The suspense and character work were what kept me turning pages.

Blue Smoke is a romantic suspense that actually leans into the suspense. If all of Nora Roberts books were like this, I'd read more of them! Strong characters, a solid mystery, and just enough romance (scannable if needed) to keep the story moving. Strip away the extra heat, and what’s left is a smart, suspenseful story that kept me reading for the right reasons.

Disappeared by Linda Castillo (Burkholder #12.5)

In a place built on order, desperation doesn’t follow the rules.

I really enjoy Linda Castillo’s novellas because they fill in the quiet (and not-so-quiet) spaces between the big crimes in Painters Mill. Disappeared does exactly that. It's short, sharp, and emotionally heavy without overstaying its welcome.

In this story, a toddler vanishes, and what unfolds is less about a whodunit and more about the impossible position his parents are in. The child is seriously ill. His father is an Englisher and his mother Amish. Her family is Old Order Amish, the strictest and least forgiving. Their relationship is forbidden and every decision they make comes with consequences that feel cruel and unavoidable.

Castillo is especially good here at showing how rigid rules can collide with love, fear, and desperation. It’s a quick read, but it adds meaningful depth to the world of Painters Mill without needing a full novel to do it.

The Women by Kristen Hannah

Vietnam was never forgotten. History just forgot 

The Women.

I had no idea The Women was going to make me cry like it did. I expected emotion, this is about Vietnam, after all, but I did not expect the kind of deep, bone-level grief that sneaks up on you and refuses to let go.

I have family who served in various wars, including Vietnam. My Steven is a veteran who fought in Grenada, an often forgotten conflict. He has scars, both physical and mental. My surviving uncle served in Vietnam and is still not healthy, mentally or physically. He won’t talk about it. He drinks until he’s black-out drunk. The Fourth of July has never been a happy day for him, even after all these years. So yes, I knew this book would hit close to home. I just didn’t know how relentlessly it would do so.

Frankie begins the story young, naïve, and idealistic, just like so many of the men and women who volunteered to serve. They wanted to make a difference. They wanted to do something meaningful. And none of them had any idea what they were walking into. Frankie is baptized by fire the moment she hits the ground, immediately thrown into a mass-casualty situation with no real preparation and no idea what to expect, having already been lied to by recruiters before she ever arrived. 

I knew women were there in Vietnam. Women were permitted (yes, permitted) to serve in non-combat roles. Nursing, though, looks an awful lot like combat when you’re surrounded by blood, trauma, and constant loss. Hannah pulls no punches in depicting what combat nurses saw, what they treated, and what they carried home with them long after the war ended.

Frankie’s homecoming hit me the hardest. Being spit on. Ridiculed. Screamed at. Isolated even by her own father. All because she was an idealistic young woman who followed orders and served her country. The most unsettling part is that none of this felt exaggerated. The entire book could have been non-fiction, because everything depicted actually happened. What’s even more disturbing is how few effective treatments existed for those young men and women when they came home. They self-medicated and spiraled. They were told to forget about it and move on. My uncle still lives that reality.

The book reinforced what I already know to be true: PTSD is real, and dismissing it doesn’t make it go away. Frankie endures trauma from every direction: Losing her brother, losing her idealism, losing love, witnessing unimaginable suffering, losing a pregnancy. And yet she survives. Not because she’s untouched, but because strength often shows up when people feel the most broken.

The friendships between the women were lifelines. They were the only ones who truly understood what the others had seen, and sometimes survival depends entirely on being believed. The emotional weight of this book is overwhelming at times but that’s the point. Women were there. And when they came home, they were ignored, erased, and told to get over it.

But trauma doesn’t work that way. You don’t “get over it.” You learn how to live with it so it hopefully doesn’t rule your life.

I would absolutely recommend The Women, but with a warning label. If you’re a trauma survivor, this book will hit triggers. Even if you’re not, have a box of Kleenex nearby. There is a hopeful ending, you just have to walk through the hurt to get there.

And honestly, that's about as true to life as it gets. 

Dire Bound by Sable Sorensen

Equal parts ‘what did I just read?’ and ‘fine, one more chapter'.

Dire Bound by Sable Sorensen is one of those books that makes you pause mid-chapter and think, I can’t believe this exists… and then immediately keep reading. Hands down, this is the strangest book I've ever read. It’s like Disney collided with Greek and Roman mythology, took a sharp turn into adult-only territory, and never looked back. We’ve got a rigid social hierarchy (Alphas, Betas, Gammas), a desperate, down-on-her-luck heroine, a prince who rides in looking heroic and turns out to be… complicated, and forest animals with magical powers just wandering around. All of this like it's totally normal.

I rolled my eyes more than once and freely skipped the steamy scenes, but I’ll admit the story worked. It had that irresistible train-wreck quality. I didn’t want to keep watching, but I absolutely couldn’t look away. Every time I thought, okay, this is too much, something else happened that dragged me further in.

By the end, it felt less like Disney and more like Alice in Wonderland. I fell down the rabbit hole and had to keep going just to see how strange it would get. Not a favorite, not something I’d usually pick up, not something I'd recommend, but undeniably compelling in a what on earth did I just read kind of way. And with that, January's Rusty Book Club pick is now in the books. No pun intended.