Broometime Serenade by Barry Metcalf

 Not bad, but the audiobook format and naked witch chaos worked against it.

I listened to Broometime Serenade by Barry Metcalf, and overall… it was okay. The story had moments that worked, but as an audiobook, it wasn’t always easy to follow. More than once I found myself wondering who was talking. It definitely felt written with print in mind rather than audio.

There was also some unnecessary nakedness that added nothing to the story except mild confusion, along with the improbable shenanigans of a witch that required a fair amount of suspension of disbelief. Not impossible—just eyebrow-raising.

All in all, not a bad listen, but not one that fully clicked for me. This is probably a book I would’ve enjoyed more on the page than in my earbuds… and maybe with a little less naked witching involved.

Unlucky 13 by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro

 Nothing kills a McNugget craving faster than a Patterson belly-bomber plot.

I just finished Unlucky 13 by James Patterson, and I may not sleep tonight. Every time I pick up a Women’s Murder Club book, I’m reminded that police don’t get the luxury of one case at a time, and this one throws Lindsay straight into the blender. She’s juggling three nightmares at once: Maggie Morales (serial killer Randy Fish’s girlfriend who’s got revenge on her crazy brain), Brady and Yuki’s cruise being hijacked by pirates, and the belly bomber plot, which honestly made me the most uncomfortable. Who really knows what goes into fast food? Certainly not me. Makes me rethink my occasional McNugget cravings.

I loved Lindsay here: Strong, steady, and putting her baby first every chance she gets. Cindy, on the other hand… let’s just say chasing down a serial killer solo isn’t exactly a Mensa-approved plan. Yuki showed real backbone taking out one of the hijackers, and while Claire didn’t get a huge role this time, she was key in pulling Lindsay into the belly bomber case.

All in all, this was a five-star installment for me, and now I’m looking forward #14.

Winter Cabin by Sam Baron

Caves, a cult, and a snowstorm. What could go wrong?

I’m a sucker for an isolated setting, so the cabin, a mountain, and a snowstorm sealed the deal for me. That trope can get old, but Baron somehow breathes fresh life into it. Maybe it’s the combination of creepy caves, creeping weather, and a cult that took it to a whole new level. 

The creepy cult vibe is what really hooked me. The tension builds slowly; no jump scares, no cheap tricks, just a steady drip of “oooooh, this can’t be good.” And when the Rangers get jumped by knife-wielding cult members I realized we weren’t dealing with your standard manipulative-but-mostly-harmless cult. These folks skipped straight past brainwashing and went right into “stab first, ask questions never.”

Ruth, our main character, is solid. Strong, capable, and exactly the kind of female lead I always root for. Everyone knows I love women who can stand their ground and still keep their wits about them. I was also absolutely convinced I knew who the villain was… until I didn’t. Baron made a fool out of me at least three times, which I grudgingly respect.

The cult dynamics were uncomfortably accurate: The isolation, the constant training, the mind control wrapped in myths and fear. Legends and religion often go hand in hand in my opinion, especially in groups where the leader’s word becomes gospel. Add hallucinogens to the mix, and suddenly people are ready to murder for a mountain. That was the part that chilled me the most—because it felt terrifyingly real. 

The snowstorm setup felt classic, but classic done well. The cave scenes were fantastic. Enough of a claustrophobic atmosphere to make me tense up but not so over the top that I rolled my eyes. The college girls caught up in the cult frustrated me (Ladies. You have brains. Use them.) but that frustration served the story.

The pacing was a nice mix. I could put the book down to refill my coffee, but the story kept pulling me right back, determined to solve the case and get that cult leader his well-earned comeuppance.

And the ending delivered. Justice served, cult broken, heroes safe… at least until the next book. Because yes, I’d absolutely read more with these characters. I think I missed the first one in the series, so I'll go backward before I go forward.

If you like thrillers with brainwashed zealots, icy isolation, and strong leads making smart choices under pressure, consider Winter Cabin is win.

Two Cold Killers by K. J. Kalis

 I knew who the villain was. I just needed Max to sober up long enough to catch him.

I’ll be honest: Two Cold Killers did not sweep me off my feet in chapter one. It took me half the book (almost) to get fully invested. Max, our resident ex-cop/alcoholic/self-pity expert, spends the early chapters doing emotional laps around the misery track. I get that he’s had a rough go at life, but his “woe is me” with the back of his hand to his forehead routine had me wanting to reach into the pages, slap the whiskey glass out of his hand, and tell him, “Dude. Consequences.”

But then Max started cleaning up his act. Literally. Dumping his whiskey down the drain, avoiding the bar, picking up the wreckage that was his house. And as he sobered up, his brain cells started firing again. Watching his detective instincts resurface was like finally seeing the headlights come on during a long, dark drive. Suddenly, the story had momentum.

I knew who the villain was, absolutely. But the “how” and the “why” kept me reading. I needed to know what connected a corrections officer, two drug dealers, and Max’s own mother. When his mom’s death was officially ruled a homicide, the pieces really started snapping together. Forensics is fascinating.

By the end, Max walks into an AA meeting and finally admits he has a problem. And look, I’m not saying I jumped up and cheered, but I may have nodded approvingly like a proud, slightly exhausted parent at a school assembly. It even made me think about picking up the next book in the series.

But.

Max must stay sober, and the self-pity has got to go. My patience has limits.

If you like character-driven mysteries where a protagonist has to scrape himself off the floor before solving anything, this might be your jam. Max is messy, frustrating, and occasionally infuriating, but once he stops spiraling, the story becomes an engaging ride. I’m cautiously curious to see where Kalis takes him next.

Now You See Her by Linda Howard

I came for the mystery, stayed for the chaos, and skipped the unnecessary nakedness.

I picked up Now You See Her because it was on Kindle Unlimited, I love a good mystery, and I’ve heard Linda Howard’s name tossed around enough times to be curious. I didn’t look too closely at the description, but the book cover with a lonely drop of blood sliding down it caught my eye. Absolutely macabre, but in the words of Popeye, “I yam what I yam.”

The opening hooked me right away. Sweeney sounded like someone I’d love to hang out with, the kind of chaotic friend who pulls you into questionable adventures but keeps you laughing the whole time. Her sudden psychic visions didn’t bother me either. I’ve never had one myself, but I’m open-minded enough to say, “Sure, why not?”

What I wasn’t expecting was a steamy romance. If I had known clothes were going to start flying, I might’ve politely left this one on the e-shelf. I remain firmly Team Murder-and-Mayhem, not Romance-and-Flowers. So yes, I did a little strategic page-skipping when the temperature rose. (Call me old-fashioned, but sex rarely adds to the story. It certainly didn’t here.) 

I did like Richard, though. He is exactly the sort of man fiction serves up because real life refuses to cooperate. Strong, steady, protective, the whole “dream hero” package.

The suspense worked for me. I kept guessing, never spotted the villain in advance. All I knew for sure was that there was more than one. It was a fun, twisty ride from start to finish.

All in all, I’d definitely recommend this to readers who enjoy romantic suspense with the note that yes, this leans heavily into the romance part. I gave it four out of five stars because, for crying out loud, leave something to the imagination.

A Wanted Man by Lee Child (Reacher #17)

 Sometimes the real danger isn’t the road. It’s the people in the car.

Usually Reacher books are more action-packed, but I genuinely enjoyed this one. The novel opens with Reacher hitching a ride and ending up in a car with three strangers, and right from the start something felt off. No small talk, no casual chatter, not even a throwaway comment about the weather. Just three people who clearly weren’t who they were pretending to be. Reacher stayed true to form: Talk only when necessary and otherwise sit back and observe.

From the get-go, I was keeping my eye on the two men in the car. They were both too pushy for the situation. Reacher didn’t ask for aspirin… so why were they insisting Karen give him one? And later, when all the alphabet agencies got involved and Reacher was taken to some sort of holding center/safe house, I thought, "Oh, come ON!" Reacher can take care of himself, thank you very much.

The most satisfying part of the book was watching him peel back the layers to figure out what was really going on, who all the players were, and then, of course, mete out justice Reacher-style.

12th of Never by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro

Some tropes deserve retirement, like giving birth in a storm. Please let it rest.

I picked up 12th of Never because it was the next in the series and, honestly, I just enjoy reading Lindsay Boxer do her thing. But this time around, the thrill was… muted. Instead of diving into a juicy case, we opened with a triple-punch of familiar tropes: Lindsay gives birth at home in a storm (of course she does), the baby immediately gets sick (of course she does), and chaos descends upon brand-new motherhood (of course it does). Cue my eye roll so hard it nearly sprained my optic nerve.

And if that wasn’t enough predictable drama, Rich and Cindy are still working through the issues they started in 11th Hour. Spoiler: they’re not really “working through” anything. Cindy keeps putting her job first, Rich wants commitment, and I’m in the background asking, “Then why are you two still together?” Honestly, this relationship should’ve been wrapped up somewhere between books 11 and 12 so we didn’t have to sit through its inevitable decline.

But the cases themselves actually delivered.

Claire’s subplot had, and held, my attention. A dead body vanishes from her morgue. Not undead or mostly dead or kind of dead. Dead-dead. Since bodies rarely stroll out for fresh air unassisted, the whole situation had “inside job” written all over it. And because we know Claire treats her work like sacred ground, the culprit had to be someone with access. The creep factor was delightfully macabre.

Then we’ve got the professor with the visions. Crazy has nothing on him. His plotline was fine, but the disappearing corpse was what kept me flipping pages at Patterson-speed.

If I were in charge of editing, I’d toss the entire new-mom chaos arc, the storm birth, the immediate baby illness, and the Rich/Cindy relationship woes. None of those added tension; they just padded the story with predictable beats we’ve all seen before.

Still, I stuck with the book for one reason: It’s Patterson, and there’s going to be a 13. And you know I’ll be there, popcorn in hand, hoping the next one leaves the worn-out tropes at the door.

Lies Run Deep by Valerie Brandy

I’ll happily attend your wedding. I just won’t be in it. Blame this book. 

This being December (when my students are somehow even crazier than usual) I knew I wasn’t going to have much time to actually sit and read. Survival mode doesn’t leave room for page-turning. So I grabbed an audiobook on Chirp to keep me sane during my drives, hoping it would satisfy my craving for an escape from real life. This one delivered.

I just finished listening to Lies Run Deep by Valerie Brandy, and ... wow. If this book were a roller coaster, I’d be the person in the souvenir photo with my hair straight up and my soul leaving my body. There was so much I didn’t see coming.

The story is told through the alternating viewpoints of Zoe and Cassandra, which was absolutely the right choice. At first, I trusted Zoe more because she seemed like the saner of the two. Cassandra came across as someone who might label her food in a shared fridge with threats. But then I found myself trusting Cassandra too. I mean, who broadcasts their own chaotic lunacy unless they are truly, spectacularly chaotic? Someone over-the-top insane, that’s who. Yet she kept sounding believable. 

The dual perspectives added so much depth. There was just enough insight into both sides of the story without giving you the full picture, which meant I spent the entire listen convinced I had it all figured out. Yeah, I did not. Not even once. I was confidently wrong for hours at a time. The only two things I felt sure about were (1) Cassandra was absolutely unwell, and (2) Zoe and Mike genuinely loved each other.

The “whodunit” reveal was completely jaw-dropping. I had my suspicions locked on one person the whole way through and could not have been more wrong. 

My feelings about the characters shifted a lot as the story unfolded. Cassandra stayed unhinged, yes, but the more I learned, the more compassion I felt. She went from cringe-worthy with much shuddering and wincing to tragically needing empathy and understanding.  I loved Zoe from the start. I liked Mike and then respected his tenacity. Oliver, Alicia, Rick, and Jason I hated them with the fire of a thousand suns. Peak narcissists. Walking red flags. If they were on a wedding seating chart, I’d put theirs in the next county.

The theme that stood out the most for me was loyalty: Who has it, who doesn’t, and how far people will go when they feel betrayed. And that made the wedding setting diabolical. To go from bridal bliss to kidnapping to lights-out terror on an isolated island was enough to make me want the narrator to pick up the pace. And for this to happen on Zoe and Mike’s honeymoon was absolutely unconscionable. I want a safe, boring redo honeymoon for them.

I liked the ending. It wrapped up the story well but left things open for what’s next. I didn’t read the first book in the trilogy, but this one stands on its own just fine. Still…Logan is out there, and something needs to be done about him. I might pick up book three just to make sure he gets what’s coming to him. Hopefully what's coming to him is done Reacher-style.

And as for me? After reading this, I’ve decided one thing with absolute certainty: I’m never being in another wedding party ever again. I’ll send a gift. I’ll smile for pictures. I’ll eat cake. But bridesmaid? Maid of honor? Flower girl? Nope. Not happening. I’m not taking that risk. 

Throwing Shade by Deborah Wilde

 Throwing Shade and Missing the Mark! 

You know that moment when you realize you’d rather scrub grout or alphabetize your spice rack than pick up the book on your nightstand? Yeah. That was me with Throwing Shade by Deborah Wilde.

I kept trying to convince myself I was “just tired” or “not in the mood,” but the truth is simple: if I’m inventing chores to avoid a book, it’s time to call it. The premise had promise, but somewhere between the magic, the mayhem, and the witty banter, I just wandered off and didn’t come back.

Life’s too short (and my TBR is too tall) to force a book that isn’t grabbing me. So I’m tossing this one back on the shelf and moving on with zero guilt. Not every book is for every reader, and this one just wasn’t for me.

Onward!

Bad Luck and Trouble by Lee Child (Reacher #11)

When you mess with Reacher’s people, you don’t need luck. You need a will. 

This might honestly be my favorite Reacher book so far. Bad Luck and Trouble gives us the closest look yet at Reacher as a leader, not just a wandering force of nature. Finding out he once commanded an eight-person Special Investigations team made his usual “drift into town, break bones, leave” persona feel downright civilized.

Then comes the SOS from one of his old teammates, a classic Reacher breadcrumb via his bank account of all things, and suddenly four of his people are missing. It’s personal, it’s ugly, and he handles it with that uniquely Reacher blend of logic, loyalty, and “if you hurt my people, I will ruin your whole life before breakfast.”

The team dynamic was fantastic. Watching the remaining three come together with him again felt like slipping into a well-worn jacket. They’re all competent, sharp, and quietly funny. Compared to the bad guys, Reacher is bigger, stronger, madder, and absolutely not in the mood. Angry Reacher is a sight to behold...and by “sight,” I mean “a path of destroyed villains shaped like a man.”

Bad Luck and Trouble hits that sweet spot of action, loyalty, and cold, calculated payback. It shows Reacher at his most human and his most fearsome, proving that the only thing more dangerous than Reacher alone is Reacher with a team he loves like family. If this is the direction the series is headed, I'm going to buckle up because I’m absolutely here for the ride.

The Enemy by Lee Child (Reacher #8)

In the Army, integrity is rare. In Reacher, it’s compulsory.

The Enemy is one of those Reacher novels that digs deeper than usual, straight into his past, his family, and the moral wiring that makes him who he is. This book shows you exactly how Reacher thinks, how he investigates, and why he can’t seem to exist without butting heads with some higher-up who seriously overestimates their own intelligence. 

What really got me was the storyline with his mother. When Reacher and Joe discover her past in the French resistance, it hits him hard but quietly, the way Reacher feels everything. And when she’s buried he tosses his Silver Star into the coffin with her. I didn't cry, but if Lee Child wanted me emotional, congratulations Sir, it worked.

The actual case sends Reacher ping-ponging around the map like military-police pinball. He’s in his dress blues more than once, but he never pulls out the medals or the uniform like a “do you know who I am?” gesture. He just does the job, gets on the plane, and keeps moving. He would rather sit in the back row next to the toilets than accept special treatment. It's another part of who he is.

Reacher’s integrity is his fatal flaw and greatest strength rolled into one. When he’s accused of assaulting a civilian, he admits it. No hedging, no excuses, no lawyerly yoga poses. Just: Yes, I did it. And because he tells the truth, he gets knocked down to captain, but he does it to protect another man’s spotless 16-year record. That’s the kind of moral code that explains everything about him, past and present.

And of course, because this is a Reacher novel, the worst of the worst eventually gets what’s coming to him served up by Reacher himself, outside the system, the way justice sometimes has to be handled when bureaucracy insists on being incompetent.

In the end, The Enemy reminded me why Reacher is my favorite character: He’s a walking contradiction. Quiet but dangerous, blunt but thoughtful, stubborn but moral to a fault. This one dug into his heart as much as his fists, and I closed the book feeling like I understood him better. Which is saying something, considering he barely understands himself.

Behind You by Rylie Dark (Hailey Rock #1)

Nothing spreads faster than small-town gossip—except maybe a scarecrow-obsessed lunatic.

I just finished listening to Behind You by Rylie Dark, which I snagged on Chirp for a song. I’ve paid more for a mediocre cup of gas-station coffee. Lucky for me, this turned out to be the first book in a series and a really solid introduction to a new-to-me author.

Hailey Rock, our lead detective, is exactly the kind of strong female character I gravitate toward. She’s tough, smart, and capable, but she’s also believably human. She whines occasionally. She butts heads with her family. She doesn't float through life being perfect, which makes her infinitely more interesting. And yes, she can absolutely kick butt with the best of them.

Her older sister Alice is another powerhouse, with just enough snark to keep things fun. Honestly, I think older sisters are required by law to be at least 40% snark. (You can ask my little sister to confirm, but spoiler: I’m right. Always.)

The small-town setting is another layer of fun here. Everybody knows everybody and everybody’s business, and word travels faster than an out-of-control roller coaster. It’s equal parts endearing and annoying. exactly how small towns actually are. Dark captures that chaotic charm perfectly.

The case itself involves a lunatic with a scarecrow obsession who thinks people need to be “purified” into literal scarecrows. This man does not need a psychiatrist... He needs an entire TEAM working in rotating shifts. It’s creepy, weird, unhinged, and exactly the kind of villain I love in a thriller.

This thriller is fast-paced, twisted, set in a small town buzzing with gossip, and anchored by two strong female leads with real personalities. It was a great listen and a fantastic surprise find. I’ll definitely be continuing the series.

The Admirer's Secret by Pamela Crane

Welcome to a small town where no one is okay.

I just finished The Admirer’s Secret by Pamela Crane. My brain is now a pretzel. One of those tightly twisted ones you only buy at the mall when you’re starving and make bad decisions. 

This is one of those psychological thrillers where you side-eye Every Single Character because you just know somebody’s got a body buried somewhere. In this case, practically everyone has secrets, skeletons, or both. The only person who seemed remotely normal was Gabriela, and honestly, I was suspicious of her too just on principle.

Pamela Crane really leaned into the “trust no one” trope. I spent half the book thinking Character A was definitely the killer, only to be WRONG. Then I thought Character B was innocent, WRONG AGAIN. Then the plot hits you with twists involving mistaken identities, mental unraveling, and enough red herrings to start a seafood restaurant.

Halfway through, I wasn’t even sure I was sane anymore.

What I can safely say without spoiling everything:

• People you think are innocent? …maybe not.

• People you think are guilty? …also maybe not.

• Some people are straight-up unhinged, but oh boy is it entertaining.

• And once the truth comes out, it’s like watching a train wreck. You can’t look away.

If you love messy characters, big twists, unreliable narrators, and that moment where you sit up in bed and go, “wait… WHAT?” this book delivers in a big way.

And now I need something light and fluffy to read because my brain is exhausted from all the betrayal.

The Hard Way by Lee Child (Reacher #10)

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. 

Campus Murder Club by Kristi Rose

"Let's start a murder club!" said no one ever.

 

Some audiobooks are background noise while you fold laundry. This was not one of them. I sat on the couch, crochet hook abandoned, absolutely glued to my Aftershokz. From the first chapter in which a mysterious letter inviting journalism major Elliot to join a secret murder club and help solve the death of a student she actually knew, I was hooked.

The story takes place on a college campus, which felt all too believable. Let’s be honest, campuses aren’t exactly bastions of safety, and the tension that built as these curious, inexperienced students dove into an unsolved murder was rivetingly suspenseful. They really had no idea what they were doing, and that made it even better. One wrong move, and they could’ve easily become the next victims. At one point, I was positive they would be.

I was sure I knew who the killer was. I had theories, suspects, and my smug “I’ve got this” reader face ready to go ... only to be completely blindsided at the end. Even after the confession, I was still questioning it. Kristi Rose kept me guessing right up to the final scene.

Character-wise, Trey was my favorite. His mama raised a gentleman, and I appreciated that. Seema, on the other hand, came in hot with all attitude and zero empathy, but I warmed up to her as the story unfolded. Rose did a great job developing the friendships naturally, without forcing connections.

The big theme here was obsession. Obsession with solving a murder. Obsession with love. Obsession with secrets, money, and truth. It gave the story an edge that kept it firmly in the crime thriller genre. There was nothing cozy about this one.

If Campus Murder Club ever becomes a TV show, I’d want it done Forensic Files style with college students tackling cold cases with no fancy tech, just curiosity and caffeine.

This novel was absolutely a 10 out of 10 listen for me. I loved everything about it, from the pacing, the characters, and the twists, to (surprisingly to me) even the narration. I’m officially a Kristi Rose fan.

Find His Grave by Kate Watterson

Every secret was buried just enough to keep you guessing. 

I just finished Find His Grave by Kate Watterson, and I’m still trying to decide how I feel about audiobooks. The story itself I thought was excellent, but regarding the format, the jury is still out.

This was one of those times when I really wished I had the physical book in my hands. I think each chapter started with an excerpt from a diary or a book that one of the characters received, but without being able to flip back and look, I can’t be entirely sure. Listening while driving or doing chores is great, but when the plot gets twisty (and this one does), I miss being able to check something or reread a section.

Still, Watterson hooked me, and I finished it. The mystery had layers, and the small-town setting added that feeling of “everyone knows something.” The characters were flawed but real, and the pacing kept me interested from start to finish, even though I occasionally forgot who characters were in relation to the story and each other. I really  needed the physical book.

All in all, Find His Grave was a solid story: Creepy, well-written, and satisfying. But next time, I think I’ll go old-school with the paperback so I can actually see what’s going on.