Death in the Underworld by Betsy Longenbaugh is a historical mystery loosely based on a true crime in Alaska. The premise intrigued me: Murders, scandal, and history all rolled into one. The setting was atmospheric and the bones of the story were solid, but the pacing dragged. Apparently I like my murder and mayhem served with the energy of a triple espresso; this one felt more like a cup of herbal tea. It wasn’t bad, just not my speed.
When the Seal's mission failed and innocents were killed, I could see where this was headed: chaos, murder, revenge, all while blaming the guy in office. The political backdrop kept me guessing who was lying because in my mind, all politicians are dishonest, just some more than others. The international settings were a surprise; I chalk that up to Clinton’s influence. After all, he’s been there, done that, probably has the classified briefings and well-worn t-shirt to prove it.
Matthew Keating won me over in all his roles. As president, he wasn’t afraid to apologize, even knowing it would tank his reelection. As a former president, he wasn’t afraid to call in favors. And as a father, he did what it took to get his daughter back. Admirable qualities all around.
The terrorist, on the other hand, I hated. His religious rhetoric and mind games were nothing but excuses to justify violence in the name of his god. The psychological manipulation—making Keating think his daughter was dead—hit harder than the violence itself. That was diabolical.
David Stahl, the Secret Service advisor, was my favorite supporting character. He knew joining Keating’s rescue mission would end his career, but he did it anyway. His death actually brought tears to my eyes. He was a good man who did his job: Take a bullet for the presidential family if necessary. His lessons to Mel helped her survive, and that made him unforgettable.
The Patterson-Clinton collaboration added an interesting twist. I’ve never noticed such an international element in Patterson’s work before, but Clinton’s insider knowledge of politics and government gave the story more depth.
By the end, I’d stopped noticing the slow start and was just along for the ride, dodging bullets, crossing borders, and muttering at certain characters like they could hear me. Politics may not be my thing, but apparently, presidents on a personal rescue mission are.
I needed a title containing the letter X for my alphabet challenge in my book journal, so I picked up Orphan X.
Orphan X is what you’d get if The Equalizer and Jason Bourne had a baby and then raised him in a top-secret government assassin program. Evan Smoak, aka the Nowhere Man, is lethal and completely off the grid, helping people who have nowhere else to turn.
It wasn't an original idea, and I didn't have any surprises, but it was fast-moving and fun. If you like crime thrillers and don't mind a recycled theme, you'll enjoy this one.
The North Dakota setting drew me in immediately, partly because I needed it for my 50 States reading challenge, and partly because I’d just passed through the state a couple weeks ago and found it quietly beautiful. Box takes that understated beauty and drapes it in winter, creating an isolated, snowbound backdrop perfect for evil to lurk just beneath the surface.
Cassie Dewell was a solid lead, but the real standout for me was Kyle, a boy everyone underestimates. He struck me as thoughtful, capable, and far less “handicapped” than people assumed, just small for his age and with some speech difficulties. The danger felt sharp and immediate, especially with corrupt cops woven into the crime. Who could you trust when the people sworn to protect you were part of the problem?
The gang members were frightening as hell. Cutting up a rival and scattering the pieces of the body around town was downright diabolical. The biggest surprise was realizing that the two dirty cops were working separately, each unaware of the other’s involvement in the town’s drug trade.
If you like your crime fiction cold, tense, and layered with both human flaws and moral dilemmas, Badlands is a trip worth taking. Preferably from the warmth of your couch.
I originally picked up Our Last Resort to check Utah off my 50 States reading challenge. It sounded like a good story, and I’ll choose murder and mayhem over romance and flowers any day of the week. I’d never read anything by Clémence Michallon before, so I went in with an open mind.
The story begins in a luxury resort. Gabriel and Frida were raised in a cult and chose each other as brother and sister, not knowing who their biological parents were. (To the uninitiated, this happens in cults. Children are often separated from their parents because they have a different purpose in the eyes of the cult leader.) Michallon takes her time setting the scene and building the characters before anyone dies, but she doesn’t drag her feet either.
Soon enough, we learn these two have been connected to three deaths:
Edwina, a young woman from the cult, who died in the fire Gabriel and Frida set to cover their escape.
Annie, Gabriel’s wife, whose murder he was suspected of but never convicted for.
Sabrina, the much-younger wife of a wealthy older man tied to the tabloids.
The multiple timelines worked perfectly for me. As the past unfolded, the present did too, making the reveals feel layered and deliberate. Gabriel and Frida are definitely memorable. Not necessarily likable, but they are survivors through and through. I respect that. Also, Michallon deserves a storytelling gold star to have them live in a storage unit after their escape from the cult.
The cult-trauma backstory felt very authentic. You’ve got the leader convinced he’s God complete with the entitlement to sex with anyone he chooses anytime he chooses, the isolation, the communal living, and punishments that are wildly disproportionate to the "crime". Gabriel and Frida first bonded while being punished for giggling in church; hardly a jailable offense, but the shared misery forged an unshakable loyalty.
The most memorable quote in the book in my opinion was, hands down:
"Here’s the truth about committing murder: There are no perfect crimes. Only lucky ones. Only a hundred cursed stars aligning just so."
My only gripe is the ending. It just…hung there…like wet clothes on a clothesline forgotten in the rain. I wanted the ending, not a fade-out. With a stronger finish, this would have been a five-star read. As it is, I’m giving it four out of five.
I picked up Don’t Let Him In by Lisa Jewell for my “new release” challenge in my book journal, and it hooked me from page one. A few chapters in, I realized the charming man in these women’s lives was the same guy using different names. From that point on, I just waited for his carefully stacked lies to topple. It was a house of cards waiting to do what houses of cards do.
Simon, or Nick, or Justin, or whoever he was pretending to be, was smooth, confident, and completely untrustworthy. I knew he was trouble from the start. Amanda, though, surprised me the most. I can understand wanting to please someone you care about, but helping dismember a body? That’s where I draw the line. At least she eventually came to her senses, even though it cost her everything.
The most disturbing part of the book was Simon’s hold over Amanda, the kind of influence that makes someone do the unthinkable. The letters to Ash were another twist that landed hard. They mirrored the ones from “Nick,” and it made perfect sense once I remembered his obsession with Ash’s father. If he’d orchestrate a murder, of course he’d toy with Ash, too.
I wasn’t unsettled by the story. Psychological thrillers are supposed to mess with your head. But I did learn what a “street stalker” is. Always nice when you pick up new trivia between chapters of murder and manipulation.
The setting in England didn’t add much to the menace; this story could have played out anywhere. What mattered was the tension, the lies, and the way it all unraveled. The ending was pitch-perfect. Simon finally got the reckoning he deserved.
I haven’t read Lisa Jewell before, but I will now. If you enjoy psychological thrillers where everyone’s hiding something and everything feels ready to collapse, this one’s worth your time.
Books have always been my way of both learning about the world and escaping from it. When I was young, they were a lifeline from an unbearable reality; now they’re my stress relief, the way others might turn to movies or TV. This made me connect immediately with Opaline, whose love of books guided every choice she made.
The story surprised me more than once. I half‑expected Armand to be behind the worst of it, so I was shocked to see just how cruel Lyndon turned out to be. Having Opaline committed, and then lying about her baby, was unconscionable. The asylum scenes were the hardest to read, not because they were unrealistic, but because they rang so true to how women have been treated throughout history.
The book blends magical realism with a strong feminist undercurrent. The enchanted bookshop felt like a quiet promise that anything was possible, that these women could overcome abuse, control, and societal expectations to find their own way. Opaline’s trousers may seem like a small act of rebellion, but in her time it was a bold statement of agency.
The male characters are a mixed bag. Armand dripping with contempt, Lyndon a tyrant, Henry casually undermining Martha (though I’m certain she’d set him straight). It underscores how little has truly changed: women now have legal rights our grandmothers could only dream of, but we still fight for equal pay, equal power, and simple respect.
Some lines lingered long after I closed the book:
“What is something you create, even if you do nothing? The answer was a choice.”
“Being a woman was akin to a performance… I knew how I was supposed to act and what I was supposed to say, but I wasn’t exactly sure if I wanted to.”
The author handled heavy topics like domestic violence, war, addiction with honesty, and I admit I was perfectly fine watching Shane take a tumble down the stairs. (Women have been coached forever to say, “I fell,” right?)
Even the cracks spreading across the basement walls of 12 Ha’Penny Lane felt purposeful, like Martha herself, growing, branching out, refusing to be contained.
This is a book about belief, resilience, and refusing to be silenced. The magical bookshop doesn’t appear to everyone, only to those open to change and willing to grow. I loved that.
This book left me hoping that someday our society will move further toward true equality, that women will finally have the full autonomy we deserve as thoughtful, intelligent human beings. The Lost Bookshop may be fiction, but its themes are painfully real, and its magic is a reminder that change begins with believing it’s possible.
Let me just start with this: if I worked in a prison and someone was holding my family hostage? I’d open every last cell door too. Good luck, world. My loyalty doesn’t extend past my own people, and Candice Fox clearly gets that.
The Chase kicks off with one of the most intense prison breaks I’ve ever read, and the story doesn’t slow down from there. With over 500 inmates running wild through the Nevada desert, the chaos could’ve been overwhelming, but Fox manages to keep it sharp, twisty, and surprisingly character-driven. I even found myself rooting for one of the escaped prisoners. Really.
That prisoner is John Kradle. Wrongfully convicted of killing his own family, understandably bitter, and stuck with a terrifying serial killer as his breakout buddy. He’s not exactly Mr. Personality, but once I saw his situation unfold, I was 100% in his corner. The guy just wanted to clear his name without dying horribly in the process. Reasonable.
Now let’s talk about Trinity and Celine. I didn’t like either of them at first. Trinity felt like a wannabe playground bully who happened to get a badge. Who punches someone in the gut just to assert dominance? Are we twelve? She never won me over. Celine, on the other hand, started off cold and rigid, treating the inmates like they were less than human. But her backstory (surviving the massacre of her family by her grandfather) gave her layers. By the end, I could see her thawing, even recognizing the possibility that not all of her inmates were actually guilty.
Fox’s writing style worked well for me: fast-paced, gritty, and unafraid to let her characters be deeply flawed. These people felt real. Not likable, necessarily, but real, and I appreciate an author who doesn’t feel the need to soften every edge.
I thought The Chase was tense, twisty, and unexpectedly thoughtful. I’d absolutely read another book by Candice Fox. Just… maybe not one where Trinity gets a spin-off.
This is the second book in the Virgil Flowers series, and I liked it even more than the first. Virgil is still rocking the rock band T-shirts and doing his laid-back, sharp-as-a-tack investigator thing. The case this time is a series of killings tied to something awful that went down during the Vietnam War. And let me tell you, this one was twisty. Almost everyone involved was shady in one way or another, and half of them weren’t even who they said they were. Just when I thought I had it figured out, someone else got shot in the head and I had to start all over. I love that.
The plot does a great job unraveling layers of secrets from the past, all while juggling political strings, former spies, and a whole lot of deception. Sandford kept the pace moving, and there were moments where I found myself saying, “Wait ... what?” in the best possible way.
Now, about those steamy scenes. Look, I get that Virgil is supposed to be the charming, easygoing type who’s never too far from some romantic entanglement. But in this case, I could’ve done without it. The sex scenes didn’t add anything to the story, didn’t deepen any character connections, and frankly, felt like filler. Not every thriller needs the HBO treatment.
Overall, Heat Lightning was a solid 4 out of 5 stars for me. Gritty crimes, a historical thread that gave the whole thing more weight, and a lead character I continue to like more with each book. Just maybe next time, less bedroom and more boardroom… or crime scene.
This is book 16 in the Emily Slate series, and it might just be one of my favorites so far. It's fast-paced, gritty, and leans more into crime thriller than the usual crime fiction vibe of the earlier books. You can feel the urgency in every chapter. A woman’s body turns up out in the desert, and what looks like an isolated murder spirals into something way more sinister. I won’t give spoilers, but let’s just say the stakes get high, the bullets start flying, and Emily has no time to unpack her suitcase.
What I love about Emily is that she’s sharp, driven, and just cynical enough to make me laugh, usually at moments when laughing is absolutely the wrong thing to do. She doesn’t waste time on office politics, especially when lives are on the line, and I respect that. New Mexico proves to be a hostile environment in more ways than one, but she holds her own like the pro she is.
Sigmore’s writing is tight. Every chapter moves the story forward. There’s no fluff, just tension, action, and clever reveals. And the desert setting adds this bleak, isolating backdrop that matches the emotional tone of the case. You can practically feel the dry heat and hear the buzz of danger coming from just over the next ridge.
If you like a no-nonsense lead, murder in the heat, and just enough danger to keep you flipping pages at 2 a.m., The Passage delivers.
Bring water. And maybe a weapon.
FBI Agent Emily Slate is walking back into the job with the weight of trauma strapped to her shoulders like a flak vest. She’s grieving the loss of her husband and still reeling from blowing the biggest case of her career and now she’s being sent to Stillwater, where the local cops are more concerned with politics than, oh, I don’t know, solving a murder.
Emily gets pushback from the start, but she’s not the type to slink off quietly. She’s strong, resourceful, and absolutely determined to prove herself - not to them, but to herself. And when the good ol’ boys try to shut her down, she finds work-arounds. Every. Single. Time.
The pacing here is tight, fast out of the gate and building with every chapter until you’re practically yelling lock the doors NOW! by the end. I couldn’t guess who the killer was (though of course, I side-eyed the husband). But this guy? He was slick. It genuinely surprised me, which is rare.
Liam Coll was another surprise. At first, I didn’t trust him. He was too cozy with the Chief, and the Chief was sketchy from page one. But Liam got his head on straight and turned out to be the partner Emily didn’t know she needed. As for Chief Burke? Let’s just say he got exactly what he deserved. Perp-walked right out of his own office. I may have cackled. Just a little.
The real heart of this book, though, is Emily herself. Her trauma, the loss, the self-doubt, the desperate need to prove she still belongs, it’s the thread that runs through the whole thing. She’s not just solving a case. She’s clawing her way back from a place where a lot of people wouldn’t even try. That’s what made this one stand out to me.
This was my first Alex Sigmore book, and I’m already hunting down the rest of the Emily Slate series. The writing was smooth and smart, detailed when it mattered, clean and fast when it didn’t, and the suspense crept up so gradually that I didn’t realize how hooked I was until I was staying up late to finish it.
I highly recommend this book. Great lead, tight plot, solid twists. Hoping in the next book Emily is just as strong, maybe pulls Liam into the FBI, and once again opens with “Oh no! Someone is dead!” and ends with “RUN.”
So, I did something I rarely do: I got the audiobook.
The Midnight Line by Lee Child was read by Dick Hill, and I’ll say this: He’s phenomenal. His voice, his pacing, even the subtle shifts he makes for different characters… it worked. His narration kept me hooked, which is impressive considering audiobooks aren’t really my cup of tea. I get distracted easily (see: amber waves of grain, surprise cows, unexpected bridges, the nearness of freight trains), so I often miss details.
But here’s what I do remember: Reacher finds a woman’s West Point class ring in a pawn shop and decides to return it. And as is tradition, trouble finds Reacher faster than you can say “wrong place, right guy.” This time, he uncovers a surprisingly clever heroin distribution system, and yes, there's plenty of action, moral ambiguity, and justice served outside the system. Classic Reacher.
I was glad he found the woman, Serena, and that her story got some resolution. There’s a lot of heart buried under the bruises in this one.
That said, I plan to reread it in paperback or hardcover, because I know I missed things while rolling past purple mountain majesty.
This book came to me as a family hand-me-down. My dad and sister both read it, loved it, and insisted I give David Baldacci a shot. With those glowing reviews in my head, I dove in with high expectations.
At first it was... fine. The premise was solid, but the pacing dragged. I didn’t realize this was the first in the Atlee Pine series, so I wasn’t prepared for how much time would be spent on character development and background. In hindsight, I get it, introducing a new lead takes time. But some parts felt like they were padded with more description and internal dialogue than necessary. Or at least necessary for me.
That said, once the words “nuke” and “Grand Canyon” appeared on the same page, I was in. Fully invested. Game on.
Atlee Pine is a strong lead. She is independent, competent, and relatable. She prefers working solo (something I totally understood in my younger years), but knows how to team up when it counts. Sam Kettles made a great secondary character: Capable, smart, and not there just to take up page space. Their dynamic worked well.
The writing had some repetitive moments, but I chalk that up to Baldacci laying the groundwork. I’d call the book a slow-burn mystery with a late-blooming thriller vibe. It took a while to get moving, but when it did, things escalated fast.
I plan to read another Atlee Pine book. I’m curious to see where the series goes and whether it finds a better rhythm. Would I recommend Long Road to Mercy? Yes, but only to readers who don’t mind a crime novel that takes its sweet time getting to the fireworks.
But we must talk about the elephant in the snowstorm: that ending.
I hated it. I wanted to see Reacher dust himself off (metaphorically, but I’d also take literally), give a final smirk, and head off to catch his next bus out of town. Instead, we’re just left hanging. Sure, we know he survives (he’s got more books to star in) but still. Closure, Lee. Closure. Just a little! And since the next book doesn’t pick up where this one left off (at least, not in the ones I’ve read), I’m left grumbling.
That said, Jack Reacher continues to be one of my favorite characters of all time. The man is voluntarily homeless. He travels light with just a toothbrush and whatever clothes he's wearing. Who does that? But it makes sense when you realize he grew up on military bases, always on the move. He’s used to it. There’s a certain freedom in not being tied down. No stuff, no strings.
Also, he does the right thing. Not always the legal thing, but the right thing. And let’s be honest: we’ve all met people who needed a good butt-kicking. Reacher just goes ahead and handles it. Swiftly. Efficiently. Sometimes permanently.
The supporting cast in 61 Hours was great:
The bus driver? Certified whiner. Let's call a waaaambulance for him. I wanted to hand him a pacifier and a job application.
Anderson, the next-in-line police chief, actually tried. I respected that. He was competent and decent.
The current Chief? An HR disaster. He had one job. Reacher should’ve added him to the butt-kicking list.
The South Dakota winter setting made me cold, literally. I was curled up under blankets while reading—in July. I can barely handle New York winters; there’s no way I’d survive an icy Reacher-style showdown in the Dakotas.
The military drug angle was shocking to me. I actually looked it up, and it’s true! Disturbing and fascinating all at once. The idea that they'd store the leftovers the way they did? Let’s just say I did a lot of “what the heck” blinking while shaking my head and whispering, "Idiots!"
So where does that leave me?
I can’t give 61 Hours a perfect score because of the ending. But I can give it a solid 5/5 for suspense, pacing, and classic Reacher justice. Just know going in you won’t get that final “Reacher walks into the sunset” moment. You’ll have to supply that part with your imagination.
I would not recommend this one as an intro to the series. You need some Reacher backstory to fully appreciate it. Start earlier in the series, or at least with one that wraps up a little cleaner.
Final thought: If I were trapped in a South Dakota blizzard, would I rather have Jack Reacher or a space heater?
Easy. Reacher is the space heater.
Kate may not have had a badge yet, but her BS detector was already fully operational. Honestly, if I’d been this perceptive at 14, I might have figured out who kept stealing the good cookies from the school bake sales.
This one’s a short read but adds a neat little layer to Kate’s backstory. It gives us a glimpse into what might’ve sparked Kate’s interest in justice, and it’s a solid little mystery in its own right.
Since this is the first book in the Virgil Flowers series, I expected some character setup, and I got it. Virgil is smart, laid-back, and apparently can't stay married. He’s also not what you’d expect from a small-town investigator. I’m still on the fence about whether I actually like him, but I’m intrigued enough to keep going.
The mystery is layered and gruesome in places, with a string of brutal murders tied to long-buried secrets. Small-town gossip meets explosive consequences. Overall, not bad for a series starter. I just hope Virgil grows on me.
From the very first sentence, this story takes off running. Literally. An Amish girl is tearing through a cornfield, terrified and confused, with a man chasing her. The twist? She has no idea who she is or why she’s running. That’s where her memory starts. And honestly, that’s all it takes to hook you.
This novella is short (less than 100 pages) but it packs a punch. Kate Burkholder jumps into the investigation, and as usual, her ties to the Amish community make everything more complicated and more personal. There's a strong sense of urgency throughout the story. You feel the clock ticking as they try to uncover the girl's identity before whoever hurt her can come back to finish the job.
It’s suspenseful, intense, and surprisingly emotional given the length. If you're following the Kate Burkholder series, this is a great in-between read. If you're new to the series, this might convince you to dive into the full-length novels.
Only the Lucky is a novella in the Kate Burkholder series, and even though it’s short, it packs a solid punch. Think of it as a bonus episode of a show you’re already obsessed with: Familiar faces, a new case, and just enough suspense to keep your coffee warm and your butt in the chair.
The story kicks off with a bang when a young Amish woman is found unconscious at a party in the Amish community. I mean, can we just have smoked ribs and potato salad like normal people? Apparently not. Especially not on Friday the 13th. As always, Kate shows up and starts asking the right questions, peeling back layers of small-town secrets while juggling that signature balance of grit and empathy I’ve come to really admire in her character.
What I loved most is how this novella still gives you everything you want from a full-length installment: Amish culture, moral complexity, and a satisfying resolution without the 300-page commitment. It’s fast, it’s tight, and it scratches the crime thriller itch just right. Definitely a great in-between read while working through the series.
If you're already into the Kate Burkholder books, Only the Lucky is a no-brainer. And if you’re not yet…well, consider this your sign to start.
I started Don’t Let Her Stay by Nicola Sanders a while back, drawn in by the creepy premise. Long-lost stepdaughter pretending to be a perfect angel but gives off weird vibes when alone with stepmom and half sister? Yes, please. But by chapter 10, I was still waiting for something (anything!) to happen. The tension just wasn’t there, and I found myself more interested in reorganizing my pantry than turning pages. Psychological thrillers usually have me hooked by chapter two if not before, not checking how many more chapters I need to suffer through. This one had potential, but it’s a DNF for me. Sorry, long-lost daughter—I'm out.
I was on board when I saw that the Hello Kitty thief was working the party circuit. Then bam! A murder mid-burglary. And not just any murder, but one with a ready-made scapegoat. If you're planning to off your wife (and, just to be clear, you shouldn't), waiting for a masked cat burglar to do their thing is... ambitious.
This book had two plotlines, and I enjoyed both. The Lipstick Killer made my skin crawl. Not just because he was out there targeting moms and kids, which was bad enough. The guy gave off serious “shouldn’t be allowed near people ever again” vibes. Honestly? I wouldn’t have minded a little street justice with that one.
But then, there's the Hello Kitty thief. Somehow, I found myself rooting for her, not because she was robbing the rich, but because she was clawing her way out of an abusive situation no one deserves. Then came the plot twist that her girlfriend was married to the Lipstick Killer. Suddenly I was rooting even harder for Hello Kitty to get away clean.
As if that wasn’t enough emotional whiplash, Joe’s plane went down, and I genuinely teared up. Hasn’t Lindsay been through enough? The woman needs a break, and by the end, she finally gets one. Fingers crossed it lasts longer than a chapter.
The pacing was relentless. I was flipping pages so fast I swear my fingers have friction burns. The ending was perfect! The woman who took out the Lipstick Killer wasn't named, but someone get her a medal, a therapist, and a lifetime supply of chocolate. She earned it.
The Women’s Murder Club were in fine form:
Claire was commanding on TV and righteously furious.
Cindy brought the Hello Kitty drama to the masses.
Yuki was an absolute boss in the courtroom and finally got a man who doesn’t suck.
And Lindsay? Still my girl. Gritty, fragile, exhausted, and doing it all anyway.
I laughed when Rich hummed the actor’s theme song just to get under his skin, and I held my breath through twist after twist after twist. This book didn’t let up, and I was all in.
Whether you have been reading this series or not, anyone who likes crime thrillers is going to love this one. And if you're only going to read one James Patterson book, this one should be it.
You don’t mess with women who’ve been pushed too far. Not the cops. Not the lawyers. Not even the thieves.
The Perfect Husband takes “page-turner” to a whole new level. I finished it around midnight, at which point I locked every door in the house (including the closets) and may or may not have considered sleeping with a flashlight and baseball bat. I plead the Fifth.
So how did I get here? Well, I was innocently scrolling ThriftBooks (as I am known to do), when I saw the tagline: "What would you do if the man of your dreams hid the soul of a killer?" Oh, yeah. Sign me up. I hit Buy Now so fast, I didn’t even check if I’d read it before. Turns out I had, back in 2022, but enough time had passed that I didn’t remember the details. And let’s be honest, the devil is in the details.
The prologue got me immediately. Jim Beckett, our “perfect husband”, had stalker vibes from the start, grooming Theresa when she was just 17. It was creepy in that “run!” kind of way, and it set the tone for a story with more twists than an overcaffeinated yoga instructor.
Jim Beckett was nightmare fuel. No conscience, no soul, just pure calculated evil. He was a cop, a killer, a manipulator, and a true, pure, 100%, no-holds-barred psychopath. When his end came, it felt like justice. Honestly, our heroine showed more restraint than I would’ve. If I knew how to handle a gun, I’d have emptied it into him, reloaded, and done it again.
The heroine of the story is Tess, and she's exactly the kind of person I root for. Delicate but tough, she is someone who has endured hell and still has the fire to fight. Her strength isn’t flashy; it’s that quiet kind that builds in layers until you realize she’s been carrying the whole weight of survival on her back. But to survive, she needs training.
Hello, JT Wilder. Reclusive, gruff, ex-Special Forces (probably broods in his sleep). He didn’t need to “grow on me” because I liked him instantly. He’s the kind of man who might grumble and scowl, but you know he’ll do the right thing if it’s in his power. He's a great big brother. And Gardner gets bonus points for a sister who’s just as complex and loyal. Speaking of…
Marion deserves a mention. JT’s sister, an FBI agent with a tragic past, was clearly surviving by pouring everything into her work. When it mattered, she stepped up for both JT and Tess, even though it came at great personal cost.
This book was edge-of-your-seat, don't close your eyes, lock all your doors including your closets, and pull the covers over your head while praying type of psychological thriller. I sacrificed sleep to finish it, but I did skip the sex scenes. Not because I’m a prude, but because they didn’t add much. The chemistry between Tess and JT was already obvious; no need to spell it out with anatomical detail. (Also, if you can’t read between the lines, what are you doing with this book?)
This book was rich in tropes. For my book journal, I had to choose just one and I went with Trauma as Motivation. Every character in this story was propelled by trauma: Tess was running from it, JT was numbing his, Marion was managing hers through work. They all needed therapy. Like…a team of therapists.
Other tropes that fit:
Strong Lone Wolf with a Past (hi, JT)
Loyal Inner Circle (JT and Marion came through big)
Everyone Has Secrets (don’t they always?)
Race Against Time (Jim was always just a half-step step behind)
Isolated Setting (middle-of-nowhere Arizona)
Justice Outside the System (because the system failed spectacularly)
Deadpan humor in the middle of trauma training? I laughed out loud.
This was a reread, but it still got my heart pounding. Lisa Gardner knows how to ratchet up suspense until your jaw aches from clenching it. If you like thrillers where damaged people find the courage to fight back, this one delivers. Just...maybe don’t read it alone at night. Or near closets.
The prologue of The 8th Confession doesn’t ease you in. It forcefully grabs you by the front of the shirt with a school bus explosion by page two. Not just any school bus, mind you. This one had been converted into a traveling meth lab. Honestly, what could go wrong? I mean, one pothole and—BOOM—goodbye PTA meeting. I was in.
At first, I thought I was juggling three separate plots: Exploding school buses, a murdered homeless preacher called Bagman Jesus, and a string of suspicious socialite deaths. But Patterson surprised me when two of those threads twisted together like a perfect little murder braid.
The murder method itself was disturbingly creative. I didn’t see that one coming. I also didn’t fully buy into the killer’s motive. Being bullied in school is awful, yes. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. But maybe just start a blog like the rest of us? Honestly, if I wanted revenge, I’d have hit their bank accounts, not their jugulars. Still, it worked in a chilling, “people are terrifying” kind of way.
This one had romance. Ugh. I’m not here for sex scenes unless they’re critical to the plot, and the one in this book was completely unnecessary. Could’ve been cut without changing a single thing. And while Lindsay tiptoed dangerously close to cheating on Joe, thank goodness she didn’t. That would’ve lost me and I wouldn't have picked up any more books in the series.
The Women’s Murder Club was less murder-solving girl gang and more “you do your thing, I’ll do mine” this time, but the story still held up. Cindy had a questionable moment with Rich (ugh), but redeemed herself eventually. I had one major for-crying-out-loud moment when Lindsay went full drama queen over that situation, but by the end, her brain cells had checked back in.
I devoured the first 200 pages in one sitting and only stopped because my eyes closed themselves. Hate it when that happens. I finished it while making my coffee the next morning. It's that kind of read.
Also, just saying...this book added “snakes in boxes” to my growing list of nightmare fuel. Yet another reason to avoid snakes. And maybe boxes. And anyone carrying boxes.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have The 9th Judgment to start.
My sister recommended Crosshairs and warned me that once I started, I’d have trouble putting it down. She was not wrong. I picked it up intending to read a few chapters and ended up finishing it in one sitting. This book moves.
This was my first introduction to Michael Bennett, and now I want more. He’s a detective, a father of ten (yes, TEN), and somehow manages to balance solving crimes with family chaos and moral clarity. I loved his relationship with his wife Mary Catherine and the glimpse into his family life, which gave the book some warmth in between all the high-stakes tension. Crosshairs is #16 in the Michael Bennett series, so clearly I’ve got some catching up to do.
The plot is classic Patterson in the best way: It opens with a sniper killing and does not let up. What really stood out to me, though, was the killer’s motive. Without giving too much away, it taps into that frustration we all feel when people game the justice system and get away on technicalities. If that bothers me, I can only imagine how it feels for detectives like Bennett. The emotional weight behind the crimes made this more than just a “catch the bad guy” story.
One supporting character I really liked was Rob Trilling. Even when things got messy, he stayed grounded and determined to do the right thing. You need those kinds of people in stories like this—someone whose integrity never wavers.
I won’t spoil the ending, but let me just say this: I did not see it coming. And I was relieved the killer wasn’t someone I’d grown to like. I am officially on the hunt for more Michael Bennett thrillers!
Graeme. (2014, August 24). Kate Burkholder. Book Series in Order. https://www.bookseriesinorder.com/kate-burkholder/
FANTASTIC WEBSITE:
After years of following Linda Castillo’s Kate Burkholder series, I’ve come to trust that each installment will be gripping, layered, and emotionally charged. A Gathering of Secrets did not disappoint. This one dives deep into the dark undercurrents of a seemingly peaceful Amish community. You’d think there’d be fewer skeletons in the closet when everyone’s wearing black and driving buggies, but oh no. Secrets abound. Like, everyone-has-one level secrets. It should’ve come with a disclaimer: “Trust no one.”
The story kicks off with the shocking suicide of an Amish teenager, an act that goes against everything in their belief system. I was immediately hooked. Suicide isn’t just a tragedy here; it’s also a mystery, and one that unravels slowly and painfully as Chief Kate Burkholder digs into the past and realizes not everything is as pure and simple as it appears.
Kate, as always, walks the delicate line between the Amish world she left behind and the English world she now polices. She handles both sides with compassion and a no-nonsense sense of justice. She listens. She observes. She pushes just enough. Her ability to read people, especially in a community where silence is often mistaken for virtue, is a big part of what makes her such a compelling character.
Let’s talk about that silence, though. That was the theme that hit the hardest for me. The cost of keeping quiet, especially when you're protecting someone who doesn't deserve protection... yeah, that stuck with me. Castillo doesn’t shy away from the darker parts of human nature, and she doesn’t sugarcoat the consequences. And she shouldn’t. When a crime is committed against someone, the shame should never fall on the victim. That this still happens in the real world is infuriating. "Boys will be boys" isn't a defense. It's an excuse, and a dangerous one at that.
As for the mystery itself, I suspected everyone. I was like Oprah with accusations. "You have a motive! And YOU have a motive!" Which is kind of the point. Castillo masterfully builds a web of tension and doubt. By the time the truth comes out, you're both vindicated and horrified. Let’s just say one of the victims in this one wasn’t exactly the sweet, God-fearing kid he was made out to be. Sometimes wolves wear bonnets and churn butter.
And I can’t not mention Tomasetti. He got baby chicks for Kate, and he's building a coop by hand. I mean, come on. If that isn’t fictional boyfriend material, I don’t know what is. Their relationship continues to evolve in realistic, often tender ways that balance out the heaviness of the crimes Kate investigates.
The pacing is spot on. I flew through this one. Castillo knows how to structure a story, layering clues, dropping reveals, and keeping the emotional stakes high without ever feeling manipulative.
Technically, this book can be read as a standalone. But if you’re in it for the long haul, starting from Sworn to Silence gives you a much richer experience, especially when it comes to Kate’s personal growth and her evolving relationship with John Tomasetti. So, if you like crime fiction with complex characters, emotional depth, and a setting that adds just as much tension as the plot itself, this one’s for you. Just remember. Trust no one.
I picked up Victims off the book exchange table at my manicurist’s salon. Who doesn’t love a free thriller with their top coat? The name Kellerman rang a vague bell, and I figured even if it was a dud, I was only out zero dollars.
This book wastes no time. Page one: Brutal murder. Buckle up. The crime scenes are gruesome, the kind that make you stop and think, Surely no one would actually do that in real life...right? (Insert my own naïve horror here.)
We follow psychologist Alex Delaware and LAPD detective Milo Sturgis, aka the Dynamic Duo of solving twisted crimes. I love their partnership. Alex brings the psychological insight, Milo brings the procedural grit, and together they somehow make sense of chaos. It’s a great formula, and it works.
The psychological angle here felt especially real. The killer wasn’t some misunderstood soul. You’re looking at someone empty inside from childhood. It’s chilling, and also weirdly compelling. When the full picture comes into focus (including the fact that two psychopaths were in on this together!), I was genuinely surprised. The twist caught me completely off guard, and I read a lot of twisty books.
I didn’t hit any draggy middle sections or unnecessary filler. It kept up the momentum all the way to a tidy, satisfying ending. No weird cliffhangers, no confusion, just a case closed and the sense that maybe I need to go find a few more Kellerman books to round out my Delaware knowledge.
I would definitely recommend Victims to someone brand new to the series. It works as a standalone though having some background on Alex and Milo would definitely make the ride even richer. It's a smart, gruesome, fast-paced crime novel with a psychological edge and a surprisingly satisfying conclusion. Not bad for a free salon grab.
I picked up Blue Moon because I needed a guaranteed pulse-raiser. Enter Jack Reacher: My favorite fictional drifter with fists of justice and a moral compass that might be just a wee bit off-center.
I’ve read a lot of Reacher books. This isn’t my first rodeo with the man who travels with nothing but a toothbrush and rights wrongs wherever he wanders. In fact, I’m pretty sure I read Blue Moon when it first came out. Some scenes rang a bell. Like déjà vu, but with more body bags.
The plot kicks off in classic Reacher fashion: He’s minding his own business on a bus when he notices a guy about to get mugged. One thing leads to another, and suddenly Reacher’s knee-deep in a turf war between Ukrainian and Albanian crime syndicates. Because of course he is. Reacher doesn’t do anything halfway.
What cracked me up was how these gangs kept blaming each other for everything, and then (of course) blamed the Russians. It was like a deadly version of the Shaggy defense (“Wasn’t me”) or a throwback to the '70s when everyone thought the Commies were hiding in the shrubs.
Caught in the middle of this chaos is a sweet old couple trying to help their daughter, who’s battling cancer with no health insurance. Their situation felt heartbreakingly real. I’d absolutely spend my last penny to help my kid, too. I've done it before.
Reacher handles it all the way he always does with tactical brilliance, unshakable calm, and a steadily rising body count made up exclusively of bad guys. I cheered every time another thug hit the pavement.
And yes, I absolutely laughed when Reacher started filling a car trunk with bodies. My dad used to judge vehicles by how many bodies could fit in the back. It’s a thing. Ask around. For the record, my car currently has a one-body trunk. Not much wiggle room.
I wouldn’t recommend Blue Moon to a Reacher newbie. It’s better for those who already know his rhythm and moral code. But for seasoned fans? Oh yeah. This one delivers.
