We Already Dug the Grave by Emma C. Wells

A brain with more twists than a pretzel factory and zero concern for my bedtime.

With a title like "We Already Dug the Grave", reading is not an option. It's mandatory. I finished it at an hour when only bad decisions and great books exist and I regret nothing. Well…except maybe how I feel today. Nothing a long nap can't cure.

This is a psychological thriller with a little bit of the paranormal in the form of tea leaves, and it absolutely earns its place in the “just one more chapter” hall of fame. The story follows Milly, whose present-day life is interrupted when her estranged younger sister, Frances, shows up desperate for help after previously brushing her off. The narrative moves between “then” and “now,” slowly unraveling a shared past filled with buried secrets, complicated family dynamics, and a growing sense that something is very, very wrong.

The pacing is perfect. The dual timeline reveals just enough information to keep you hooked, dropping answers right before frustration can set in. I kept telling myself I’d stop at the next chapter… and then immediately didn’t.

The psychological tension is magnificent. This isn’t just a story where a character’s mind is being manipulated. Your mind is right there in the crossfire. The slow realization of what’s actually happening is brilliantly done, and when the full picture comes into focus, well, my jaw hit the floor.

Frances is…something else. She doesn’t come across as overtly unhinged, just slightly off in a way you can almost explain away. That subtlety makes her all the more unsettling. Watching the layers of her mind unfold is equal parts fascinating and horrifying.

Milly, on the other hand, surprised me. I started out wanting to shake her and tell her to get it together, stop complaining, yeah, life is hard. By the end, I was firmly in the “someone wrap this poor woman in a blanket and protect her at all costs” camp. That shift didn’t happen by accident. It’s a testament to how well the story recontextualizes everything you think you know.

The aunts are absolutely lovely. Warm, loyal, and just as willing to do anything for family, which, in this book, is both comforting and deeply concerning.

At its core, this book asks a very uncomfortable question: How far would you go for the people you love? It explores loyalty and its cost, manipulation, and the fine line between devotion and destruction. I found myself genuinely wrestling with that idea. I hope this is a question I personally will never need to know the answer to.

This story includes dark themes such as manipulation, violence, and morally complex choices. If you’re looking for a light, feel-good read…this is not that book.

My critique is very minor. The very elements that make this story so effective, its subtlety and layered reveals, may not work for readers who prefer straightforward storytelling. You have to be willing to sit in the uncertainty and let the story unfold on its terms.

I think fans of Freida McFadden will love the twists and shifting perspectives. Readers of Dean Koontz will appreciate the eerie undertones and emotional depth.

Romance readers…this is your official warning. This is Not a “happily ever after” rainbows and puppies novel. This is more like, “Hey! I found someone who loves mind games and questionable life choices as much as I do.”

This book gets five out of five stars from me, which is the “I should have gone to bed hours ago but absolutely did not” rating. This is not a book for everyone, but for the right reader it will completely wreck you. And yes, I immediately went back and reread the final chapters just to see what I missed. It’s that good.

A special thank you to Poisoned Pen Press for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

The Murder Code by Ava Strong (Remi Laurent #2)

 Art theft, apocalypse predictions, and one seriously unhinged mastermind.

I just wrapped up The Murder Code by Ava Strong, and I’m landing at a solid 4 out of 5 stars.

This one pulled me in right away with a premise that made me do a double take: a lunatic stealing a series of paintings so he can predict the apocalypse. I mean… who thinks of these things? It’s wild, a little over-the-top, and definitely kept things interesting.

I listened to this one on audio while going back and forth to work and really enjoyed the ride. The pacing was steady, the investigation kept moving, and the dynamic between Remi Laurent and Daniel Walker worked well. That said, it didn’t quite hit that “cancel your plans and ignore all responsibilities” level of obsession for me. I was happy to come back to it but I wasn’t sneaking in extra chapters at midnight.

Overall, a strong, entertaining crime thriller with a unique twist. Not life-disrupting… but definitely worth the listen.

The Final Twist by Jeffery Deaver (Colton Shaw #3)

 Because one crisis at a time is for amateurs.

I went into The Final Twist already knowing I enjoy Jeffery Deaver’s writing, and especially his Colter Shaw series. Deaver seamlessly juggles multiple storylines without dropping a single one.

This time around, he’s hired to find a kidnapped young woman. But layered on top of that, he’s still digging into the mystery surrounding his father’s research and murder. And just to keep things interesting, his brother reappears to help…or at least complicate things in that way only family can.

What really worked for me here is how balanced everything felt. None of the storylines felt like filler or a distraction. Instead, they all fed into each other in a way that made the story stronger as a whole. It all comes together. It's the kind of payoff that makes you want to flip back a few pages and appreciate how all the pieces were quietly lining up the whole time.

Colter Shaw continues to be one of my favorite lone-wolf characters. He's smart, methodical, and just emotionally tangled enough to keep things interesting. Bringing his brother back into the mix added a nice layer of tension and gave us a different side of him that we don’t always get to see.

Anatomy of an Alibi by Ashley Elston

 Even the secrets have secrets. 

When I started reading Anatomy of an Alibi by Ashley Elston, I knew pretty quickly that something much deeper was going on. Aubrey says something in the opening chapter that immediately struck me as odd. When someone asks why she orders gin, she says, “I can't order anything else,” like she's not permitted to. That line stuck with me because it felt…off. Not wrong exactly, but like there was more underneath it. Turns out, that instinct was correct.

I realized this was going to be a twisty one when the chapters started moving back and forth between Before the Alibi, The Alibi, and After the Alibi. Timeline jumps always make my brain pause for a moment (or ten), so I actually made notes while reading to keep track of who was doing what and why. It slowed me down a little, but it helped me keep the growing pile of secrets organized. And there were a lot of secrets.

Aubrey and Camille make a deal that benefits them both. Aubrey wants to find out who really killed her parents, and Camille wants out of her marriage. On the surface, their arrangement seems mutually beneficial. But of course, both women have their own private motives they’re not sharing. And it’s all fun and games until somebody gets killed and the secrets start tripping over each other.

I’ll admit, I didn’t trust Aubrey at first. She’s perfectly comfortable pretending to be someone else for a day and then uses part of that time to visit someone in prison. That felt shadier than an old oak tree to me.

As the story unfolds, each timeline reveals another piece of the puzzle but not enough to give away the answer. I spent a good portion of the book arguing with myself:

She couldn’t have done it because…
But he couldn’t have because…
Unless they did it together…?
No, that doesn’t work either…

You get the picture. The mystery kept shifting just enough that I was never confident in any theory for very long. When the truth finally came out, the rug was successfully pulled out from under me.

And the ending was very satisfying. Let’s just say there’s a bit of justice outside the system, which is always something I appreciate in a thriller.

One lingering thought I had through all of this: Isn’t divorce easier? Sure, it’s expensive, you will exit with less than you entered, but compared to all the planning, manipulation, and general subversion happening here, it feels like the more time-efficient option.

Why should you read this book? Because it raises a question that sits quietly underneath the entire story:

Do we ever really know the people we think we know?

Readers who strongly dislike timeline jumps or multiple points of view might struggle with this one. But honestly, the effort was worth it. All those moving pieces eventually come together in a way that makes the whole puzzle snap into place. Or at least… it seems like it does. Because with this story, you can’t help wondering if there might still be one more secret hiding somewhere.

The Collateral Heart by Jeffery Deaver

Arson, genocide history, and forensic brilliance. I lost sleep and have no regrets.  

When I saw a new Lincoln Rhyme novel from Jeffery Deaver was coming out, my first reaction was a mental YIPPEE with a cartwheel. I’ve always loved the Rhyme and Sachs books, and this one reminded me exactly why.

The story begins with a homeless man getting trapped in an arson fire. Soon a disturbing pattern begins to emerge: the fires seem to follow chapters from a book about mass murderers and genocides throughout history. As the investigation unfolds, Rhyme and Amelia Sachs work to figure out who is behind the crimes and why arson would be connected to figures like Pol Pot and others.

At the same time, Detective Vale is investigating the murder of a young woman and turns to Rhyme and Sachs for help. The two investigations gradually intertwine, creating a tense race to identify the killers before yet another fire is set.

One of the things I’ve always admired about Deaver’s writing is the research. Because Rhyme is such a cerebral character, the science and forensics in these books need to be rock solid, and they always are. The investigation here involves detailed work with chemicals, artifacts, and tiny linguistic clues. At one point, something as small as the difference between “a” and “the” becomes an important piece of the puzzle. Those subtle details are what make these books so satisfying to read.

Of course, the heart of the series is the partnership between Rhyme and Sachs. I love watching them work together, each bringing different strengths to the investigation. Their marriage has deepened their mutual respect, and that dynamic really shines in this book. Thom, Rhyme’s personal assistant, is another favorite of mine. He does an admirable job keeping Rhyme in line, and however inappropriately, his character makes me laugh.

Detective Vale was also a welcome addition. I really enjoyed her investigative style, especially the way she builds timelines to solve cases. Her home life adds depth to her character, and I found myself hoping she might appear in future books.

The pacing kept me turning pages, and once the investigators started getting close to the truth, I had a hard time putting the book down. While I had a rough idea of who might be responsible for the crimes, the motivation behind it caught me completely by surprise. The tension builds beautifully toward a very satisfying conclusion.

Content warnings include murder, domestic violence, and addiction.

For me, this was an easy five-star read. In my personal rating system, five stars means I lost sleep because I couldn’t stop reading, and The Collateral Heart absolutely earned that rating.

Fans of Rhyme and Sachs will feel right at home here, and readers who enjoy intelligent crime thrillers  with strong forensic detail (like Patricia Cornwell) will find plenty to love.

A special thank you to Putnam for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

Wolf Season by Wesley King

I told myself ‘just one more page’ until it was 2 a.m. and the book was finished. 

I lost sleep over this book. If I’d had plans, I would have cancelled them.

That’s my personal five-star standard, and Wolf Season by Wesley King earned every bit of it.

The story begins with a mystery that hooks you immediately: Sheriff Dale Johnson has been missing for nearly two weeks. His truck is found abandoned near the woods, with no sign of foul play. It’s as if he simply stepped out of the vehicle, walked into a forest, and vanished.

Enter Everett Johnson, the sheriff’s oldest son, returning to town after seven years away. His departure wasn’t exactly friendly. His father kicked him off the police force, and the woman he loved, Bernadine Armel, ended their relationship. Now Everett is back, reluctantly helping his younger brother Connor, who’s acting sheriff while their father is missing.

What starts as a search quickly turns into something deeper when other deaths begin to surface. Deaths that may or may not be connected to the sheriff’s disappearance.

The setting is a classic small town where everyone knows everyone else’s business, and if they don’t, the town gossip can probably find out for you. The atmosphere is fantastic. Between the deep woods, whispers of curses, an old witch, and a mysterious recluse known as the Hill Man, the story builds an almost eerie tension.

Everett makes a great protagonist. He’s strong and capable, but also very human: loyal to his family, still carrying the pain of the past, and clearly unable to forget Bernadine. Their complicated history forms the emotional backbone of the story. You can tell she’s holding something back, but figuring out what becomes part of the tension.

The supporting characters are memorable too. Deputy Kyle Dole is exactly the kind of officer every department seems to have - the loud, badge-flashing type who makes you roll your eyes but feels completely believable. My favorite secondary character, though, was the Hill Man. Every time he appeared, the tension in the story ticked up another notch.

The pacing is excellent. Wesley King gradually layers in clues and flashbacks, revealing pieces of the past until suddenly it was two in the morning and I was still telling myself, “Just one more page.”

There are also some paranormal elements woven into the story: cursed woods, rumors of witches, and the unsettling suggestion that the Armel women may not be entirely ordinary. One particular reveal made me roll my eyes a little, but not enough to break the spell of the story. After all, this is fiction. Readers who enjoy the suspense and supernatural touches of Dean Koontz will probably love this blend.

Content warnings include domestic abuse, violence, murder, and the grief of losing a child.

At its heart, though, Wolf Season isn’t just about solving a mystery. It’s about loyalty, love, and the kind of bonds that make people willing to move the earth for each other.

And yes—I absolutely stayed up way too late finishing it.

A special thank you to Atria for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

The Pike by J.J. Richards (DCI Walker #2)

 A thriller that made me look forward to my commute.

I listened to The Pike as an audiobook, and it quickly became my daily commuting companion. The story wastes absolutely no time getting started. The first chapter drops a murder on the table and the investigation takes off running from there.

The pacing kept things moving nicely, but what really pulled me in were the characters. DCI Walker and Briggs make a great investigative team, and by the end of the book I found myself wanting to know more about their history. Any time I finish a mystery thinking “I should probably go back and read the first book in the series,” I consider that a win for the author.

The audiobook narration was excellent, too. The narrator managed to bring just enough personality to the characters without turning the whole thing into a performance piece. At one point my internal creep detector started quietly pinging about a certain character. I briefly suspected something… then talked myself out of it.

There’s also a moment involving a piece of technology that made me stop and think, “Wait… maybe those voices aren’t entirely imaginary.” That little twist added an extra layer of psychological tension to the story.

I ended up giving this one four out of five stars. I didn’t cancel plans or lose sleep over it, but it was a good, solid read with engaging characters and enough psychological mind games to keep things interesting. I liked it enough that I’ve already added the first book in the series, The Icehouse, to my TBR list because now I want the backstory on these characters.

And honestly, any thriller that makes you look forward to traffic is doing something right.

The Guilty Sleep by Jeremy D. Baker

 The payoff showed up fashionably late.

I just finished The Guilty Sleep by Jeremy D. Baker, and this one lands squarely in my 3-star category.

Not bad. Not amazing. Just… okay.

The premise had potential. Military trauma, buried guilt, secrets unraveling in the present day, all things I usually enjoy. And to be fair, by the final stretch, everything did come together in a way that made sense.

The issue was it felt like most of the book was setting the table.

We spent a long time circling the backstory, hinting at the Big Event, layering in tension. And I kept thinking, “Alright, here we go… here we go…” But the real momentum didn’t kick in until the last quarter of the book.

By then, I understood what the author was doing. I just wish we’d gotten there sooner.

It’s the kind of read where you close the book and think, “Okay. That worked.”
But you’re not immediately texting a friend, “Drop everything. You need this.”

So yes — 3 stars. A decent concept. A slow burn. A late payoff.

And while I won’t be recommending it anytime soon, I’m also not mad I read it. 

Sometimes a book doesn’t have to be life-changing. Sometimes it just has to be fine. I am interested in seeing more by Mr. Baker. 

Dead Inside by Kate Bold

Great thriller. The narration owes me an apology.

I just finished listening to Dead Inside by Kate Bold, and I have… feelings. Let’s start with the story itself.

The killer freezes women in blocks of ice and puts them on display at winter festivals. That is next-level unhinged. It’s the kind of premise that makes you stop and think, Who comes up with this stuff? And then immediately keep listening because you need to know what happens next.

FBI Agent Kelsey Hawk is intense, driven, and occasionally impulsive, which is exactly why her partnership with Deputy Sheriff John Gallant works so well. He’s steady where she’s sharp, calm where she pushes. I genuinely enjoyed their dynamic. He was such a strong supporting character without feeling overshadowed.

If I had read this in hard copy, I would have easily given the story five stars. The pacing was solid. The concept was bold (no pun intended). The killer was truly unsettling. This is my kind of crime thriller...high stakes, twisted, and just a little bit outrageous.

Now. We need to talk about the audiobook narration.

Mispronunciations of common words, like hoped ("ho'-ped"). Flat delivery. Almost no inflection. And, most distracting of all, the AI voice would sometimes go up for male characters and down for female characters. Backwards. Repeatedly. It completely pulled me out of the tension. And in a thriller, tension is everything.

The narration didn’t just fail to elevate the story, it actively worked against it. I would rate the story a five. The narration, on the other hand, was a negative five. It genuinely took away from what was otherwise a gripping read.

If you’re interested in this one, I strongly recommend reading it rather than listening. The story deserves better than the performance it got.

Winter Song by Rebeca Lee Morales

 A quiet small-town mystery where justice has a conscience and a heart.

In most wrongful-conviction stories, the system is the villain. In Winter Song, the system has a conscience.

Set in a small Minnesota town where everybody knows everybody (and yes, everybody has opinions) this character-driven mystery follows Byron Lugo after his release from prison. Convicted of vehicular manslaughter in the death of a child, Byron has never wavered from his claim that he had an alibi. He served his time, but returning home means facing what he truly lost: his job, his reputation, his friends, and the woman he planned to marry.

The heart of this story isn’t high-speed chases or shocking twists. It’s quieter than that. The tension comes from a couple central questions: if Byron didn’t do it, who did? Will the truth ever come out? And will the town, especially Police Chief Gordon Trent, be willing to look again?

Chief Trent was my favorite part of this novel. He cares. He cares about Byron, about the victim’s family, and about the integrity of his town. That felt authentic to small-town life, and I appreciated how his personal investment added both hope and emotional weight to the story.

This is a steady, beautifully paced read. I never skimmed. I never felt impatient. The atmosphere is vivid and picturesque, and having lived in several small towns myself, I can say Morales captured that dynamic perfectly including the loyalty, the long memories, and the quiet judgments.

The novel explores justice, loyalty, and what happens when legal closure doesn’t feel like moral truth. There is a moment of justice outside the system and I’ll admit, I approved.

Content considerations include the death of a child, vehicular manslaughter, and murder.

This isn’t a heart-pounding thriller. It’s a thoughtful, character-driven mystery with a strong emotional core. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoy small-town crime with depth and heart. I’ll be buying a copy when it releases. I give this 4.5 stars.  It's a solid, satisfying read with no eye-rolls.

A special thank you to Ecco for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

The Last Sinner by Lisa Jackson

 Murder by rosary. How deliciously sacrilegious.

I just finished The Last Sinner by Lisa Jackson, my first Rick Bentz/Reuben Montoya novel. I’m landing at a solid four stars. Let’s start with what worked.

This is absolutely a crime thriller. We have detectives. We have ritualistic murders. We have serial killer energy. And yes… murder by rosary. Deliciously sacrilegious and deeply unsettling. I appreciated the boldness of the crime method. It wasn’t cookie-cutter or predictable. It leaned hard into religious symbolism in a way that felt daring and dark. I loved it.

Where it lost a star for me was momentum. I favor high tension and fast pacing. Once the murders were underway, I wanted tightening piano wire. Instead, there were stretches where I felt like I was getting information that wasn’t germane to the story, especially the extended detail about Kristi’s prior true crime books. As a first-time reader of the series, it felt like I’d walked into an ongoing conversation and someone insisted on explaining every inside joke before getting back to the body on the floor. I had to actively resist the urge to skim. And if I’m thinking about skimming in a crime thriller, that’s a pacing problem.

The other lingering question for me: Who was Father John really? Was that his actual name? Was he someone from Kristi’s previous books? Did I miss something from an earlier installment in the series? That left me unsatisfied rather than intrigued.

So here’s where I land: It was a good read, and absolutely creative. However, I didn't not lose sleep. Five-star thrillers make me irresponsible about bedtime. This one did not.

Four stars feels fair. It was a strong concept, had solid investigation and dark atmosphere… just not quite tight enough for my personal thriller sweet spot. 

Now I need something razor-paced and relentless. I'm going to find something by James Patterson. Because apparently “serial killer energy + justice-with-an-edge” is my comfort zone.

Fracture Point by Jeff Altabef

The cure for insomnia...yawn... 

I gave Fracture Point a fair shot. About a third of the way in, actually. And then I tapped out.

The premise had potential. Jack goes missing, tension builds, questions swirl, but a third of the way in, I still didn't have a good grasp of the plot and something in my brain just quietly clocked out. I wanted grounded suspense. What I got felt like it was veering somewhere I didn’t want to follow.

To be clear, the audiobook narrator was excellent. No complaints there. The pacing of the performance was solid, the voices were distinct, and if narration alone could carry a book, this one would’ve kept me listening.

But story is king. And this storyline just never grabbed me.

Maybe it picks up later. Maybe it twists into brilliance. But at one-third in, I realized I was inventing reasons not to press play. And life is too short, and my TBR pile too tall, to force it.

On to the next one.

Dear Debbie by Freida McFadden

Five stars. Mild psychological damage. Worth it.

I have just returned from the twisted corridors of Freida McFadden’s brain. It is unsettling in there.

Let’s start with this: I literally cancelled plans to finish it. Not “I’ll be late.” Not “Maybe next week.” Cancelled. Once this story grabbed me, it did not politely release me back into society.

The premise feels almost playful at first. Advice columnist vibes, reader letters, sharp responses. And then it tilts. Subtly, like a gentle wave rocking a boat on a sunny day... Then dramatically, overturned in hurricane force winds straight from the gates of Hades. And you realize you’re in delightfully unhinged territory.

The Dear Debbie responses were spectacularly psychotic in the most creative way possible. I found myself laughing and then immediately whispering, “Oh no. No no no.” (And then thinking, "Well...maybe...")  The app ideas were excellent. The Punish Your Husband app alone was bold, absurd, a little diabolical, and just plausible enough to make you side-eye the App Store.

Classic Freida. I did not see the twists coming, even though I should have known better after reading The Teacher. I was emotionally mugged and left blinking at the wall with my mouth open like I’d just been personally betrayed.

Five stars. No hesitation. Ms. McFadden, I am both very impressed and mildly concerned. Please keep writing.

⭐ My Slightly Snarky Book Rating System ⭐

It occurred to me that I should spell out my personal (slightly snarky) rating system for those who wander into my book reviews. 

From the top: 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Loved it. Could not put it down. Canceled plans and lost sleep with no regrets.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ A good solid read. Kept me turning pages with only occasional eye rolls. 

⭐⭐⭐ Decent. Kept me mildly interested, but I won't be recommending it.

⭐⭐ Meh. I finished it, but only because quitting felt like losing. Forgettable at best. 

⭐ Ugh. I can't believe I read this drivel. If it were on fire, I wouldn't grab a bucket. In fact, I may start a fire with it.

This rating system probably tells you something about me. I’m a thriller girl at heart. Psychological thrillers, crime thrillers, military thrillers, bring 'em on. I’ve yet to meet a thriller I didn’t at least mildly enjoy. I like my books fast, twisty, and a little dangerous.

So there you have it: My completely scientific, highly technical rating system. Give me secrets, twists, and ticking clocks, and we’re in business. Five stars is a public service announcement ... cancel your plans. One star means I already suffered for both of us.

The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride

 Some books grab you by the throat. This one gently suggested a nap.

I tried. I really did.

I picked up The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store by James McBride with good intentions and a full cup of coffee. I made it about 100 pages in… and kept finding reasons to wander off. Fold laundry. Scroll my phone. Stare at the wall. You know. Important things.

On paper, this book should have worked for me. Small-town setting, layered community dynamics, secrets bubbling under the surface. That’s usually my jam. But the pacing? Slower than crawling. I never quite found my footing with the characters, and instead of feeling immersed, I felt like I was trudging uphill in wet cement.

It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t for me.

I’m a pretty determined reader, but when I start looking for excuses not to pick a book up, that’s my sign. Life’s too short, and my TBR pile is too tall.

So this one is officially a DNF at 100 pages. No hard feelings. Just a gentle “we’re not compatible.” And that’s okay.

Brimstone Hollow by Archer Sullivan

A dead snake-handling preacher? I was hooked before page two.

A snake-handling preacher dies from a snake bite during a church service. Yes. Snake-handling. That alone was enough to hook me. 

Brimstone Hollow is a tightly paced thriller set in an insular religious community where faith, fear, and power are deeply intertwined. When doubts arise about the preacher’s death, a private investigator is brought in to uncover the truth. As she begins asking questions, it becomes clear that Brimstone Hollow is built on secrets, and not everyone wants them exposed.

The setting is one of the book’s greatest strengths. The snake-handling element isn’t just atmospheric; it drives the tension. The danger, both spiritual and physical, is always present. I was fully engaged the entire read.

I especially appreciated the PI. She’s a steady, believable professional and a strong female lead without unnecessary drama. Her persistence and intelligence ground the story and make the investigation feel authentic.

Content considerations include religious extremism, live snake handling with venomous snakes, and a suspicious death. The themes may be unsettling for some readers, though nothing felt gratuitous.

Why 4 stars instead of 5? For me, a 5-star thriller keeps me up at night. This one didn’t cost me sleep but it absolutely held my attention and delivered a satisfying, well-constructed mystery.

I would recommend this to readers who enjoy atmospheric thrillers, strong female leads, and small-town stories where everyone has something to hide. I’ll definitely be looking for more from this author.

A special thank you to Minotaur Books for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

Girl Ten: Wanted by Molly Black

 A serial killer with a bunker full of girls and a morally gray FBI agent.

I just finished listening to Girl 10: Wanted by Molly Black, and this one is a solid four stars for me.

I didn't lose sleep or consider sitting in my driveway to finish a chapter, but it was a strong, twisty commute companion. 

The premise does the heavy lifting here, and it’s a good one. A serial killer, later convicted, claims he didn’t commit certain murders. His leverage is a bunker filled with girls in cages, like bunnies, and he forces FBI agent Maya Gray to solve cold cases to prove his innocence.

Tell me that’s not twisted. The question the book plays with is: What does a serial killer have to lose by lying when he’s already convicted? He could be manipulating the system one last time. That tension worked. The bunker was genuinely creepy and added urgency. I appreciated that.

Where I struggled was with Maya. I didn’t find her morally gray; I found her manipulative. She keeps secrets, justifies them, then outright lies to her fiancé and her sister, people who likely would have supported her if she’d just told the truth. At some point I stopped worrying about the case and started thinking, “Just. Stop. Lying.”

The villain felt more theatrical than chilling, and the ending left me with a loose thread (what exactly happened to Lucy’s abductor? He just rides away into the sunset like, "Hi ho Silver!"?). And I still don’t fully understand the title. Who was Girl 10? Lucy? The sister? Someone symbolic? I finished the book unsure.

That said, the pacing was strong, the premise was bold, and the psychological cat-and-mouse kept me engaged. It was very good, but not unforgettable.

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

 "I may never see a therapist again." - Me, after reading this book

I just finished The Silent Patient, and I have one thing to say: Rude. Not the writing. Not the plot. Not even the twist. Just… rude. Because I did not see that coming. Not even a little bit. Not a whisper. Not a suspicious eyebrow twitch. Completely blindsided.

Here’s the thing: I’ve read a decent number of psychological thrillers. I know the tricks. I look for the unreliable narrator. I question timelines. I am suspicious of everyone. And this book still managed to calmly rearrange my brain furniture while I stood there holding a throw pillow.

The structure is what makes it so effective. We’ve got Theo, the therapist, guiding us through sessions with Alicia, the woman who shot her husband (five times!) and then stopped speaking. We also get Alicia’s diary entries, which feel intimate and revealing. Between the two perspectives, you feel grounded. You feel informed. You feel smart.

You are being played.

The book plays fair, which is what makes it even more impressive. The clues are there. Subtle. Quiet. Hiding in plain sight while we’re busy analyzing Alicia, trying to “solve” her. Meanwhile, the real story is unfolding right in front of us.

Theo goes from calm, analytical, compassionate professional to… well. Let’s just say my trust issues have been activated. I spent the whole book sitting comfortably in those therapy sessions, nodding along like, “Yes, very insightful.” Sir. You were not insightful. You were spiraling. You said, "Trust the process," and then weaponized the process.

What I appreciate most is that the twist doesn’t feel random or desperate. It recontextualizes everything. It’s the kind of ending that makes you mentally flip back through earlier chapters, realizing you were expertly manipulated. 

This is one of those rare thrillers that makes you question not just the characters, but your own reading instincts. It reminds you that sometimes the most dangerous perspective is the one you trust the most.

Real-life therapists are safe.
Fictional narrators? I will now be evaluating all of them.

That Night by Gillian McAllister

I love my brother, but there are limits. This book lives right at that line.

The prologue hooked me immediately: a narrator standing over a body, begging her sister for help. You can’t not turn the page after that. I was in. If I had to pitch That Night in one breath, it would be this: How far would you go for your family?

The story follows three siblings, Cathy, Joe, and Frannie, who are unusually close after losing their youngest sister to SIDS and growing up with parents locked in endless grief. While on vacation, Frannie accidentally hits someone with her car, and what follows is not so much about the accident itself, but about everything that happens because of that night. The book moves back and forth in time, slowly revealing how far the siblings are willing to go to protect one another, and how messy those choices become.

I appreciated how the story lingered in the “then” long enough to establish the situation and its consequences. The moral dilemma at the heart of this book is deeply uncomfortable, and McAllister really got under my skin with the extremes these characters were willing to reach. The theme of family secrets, not just from the outside world, but from each other as well, was especially effective. The ending genuinely surprised me, once again forcing that central question: How far would you go for family?

That said, this didn’t fully grip me emotionally. The shifting timeline occasionally made it hard to stay oriented, and there were moments where POV changes happened without enough warning. When I lost track of who was who or where I was in the timeline, I also lost some emotional investment. I also struggled to connect with the siblings themselves; their level of closeness didn’t feel believable to me. (I love my brother, and I’ll give him a great character witness, but I’m not burying any bodies.) Interestingly, I found myself most connected to Joe’s wife, Lydia, and wished her perspective carried more weight.

The pacing itself worked well for me. It never dragged or rushed, but despite being a psychological thriller, I never felt an urgent need to race back to the book.

Content warnings include family trauma and the death of a sibling. This is an emotionally heavy read, particularly in terms of moral unease.

Overall, That Night is a thought-provoking but not gripping psychological thriller that will appeal to readers who enjoy crime fiction and morally complex family dramas. On my own personal rating system, I would give this 4 out of 5 stars. It is a solid, well-constructed read that made me think, even if it didn’t keep me up at night.

A special thank you to William Morrow for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

A Killing Truth by DV Berkom

I didn’t expect to root for a mercenary, but somehow this one pulled it off. 

I never thought I’d say this, but here we are: I found myself rooting for a mercenary.

A Killing Truth by DV Berkom is a solid, fast-moving thriller with a main character who lives firmly in moral gray territory and somehow still earns your sympathy. The story moves along at a good clip, the stakes are clear, and there’s enough tension to keep you engaged without feeling emotionally wrung out. This was very much a “just one more chapter” listen… but not a “staring at the ceiling at 2 a.m.” kind of book.

As an audiobook, it worked well for commuting and daily life. It was easy to follow, well-paced, and generally not confusing. I stayed interested the whole time, which counts for a lot.

I landed at a 4 out of 5 stars. A good story, an unexpected character to root for, and an entertaining listen, even if it didn’t completely wreck me (and honestly, sometimes that’s a plus).

Just Breaking the Rules by Lauren Blakely

Not a romance reader, plenty of page-skipping, but the story itself was solid. 

I picked up Just Breaking the Rules by Lauren Blakely for the Rusty book club, fully aware that romance novels are not really my thing. As usual, once a shirt came off, I started skimming like it was my job. That said, the story itself worked for me.

Mabel inherits an old firehouse from her grandmother and turns it into a bakery. She teams up with Corbin who just happens to be a professional hockey player with a genuine love for baking. Honestly, that combination was way more charming than I expected. The small-town setup, family vibes, and shared passion for creating something meaningful gave the book some heart beyond the romance.

While I could have done with fewer steamy scenes and more time in the kitchen, I enjoyed watching the bakery come to life. My only real complaint? Blakely missed opportunity on not including a recipe or two. If you’re a romance reader, you’ll probably love it. If you’re romance-adjacent like me, the storyline makes it worth the read, even with strategic page skipping.

Bitter Roots by CJ Carmichael

Secrets, murder, and missing money, perfect commuter listening.

Bitter Roots by C.J. Carmichael was a great audiobook choice for my daily commute, engaging enough to keep me alert in traffic without being so twisty I missed things if someone cut me off. The story follows two parallel mysteries: the murder of a new girl in town and missing funds tied to a Christmas tree ranch, both unfolding in a small community where everyone knows everyone… or thinks they do.

I really enjoyed how the two storylines gradually intersect, although the missing funds storyline was abruptly solved and not fully developed. The story has that classic small-town crime feel and the pacing worked especially well in audio. A solid, satisfying listen that kept me looking forward to my drive.

Target Acquired by Don Bentley

Heavy on military detail, light on story

Target Acquired by Don Bentley delivers exactly what it promises: Intense combat scenes, detailed military operations, and a heavy focus on tactics, weapons, and chain-of-command decision-making. And if that’s what you’re here for, you’ll probably be very happy. Bentley clearly knows his stuff, and the action is constant.

For me, though, it was too much military and not enough story.

I struggled to connect with the characters on any meaningful level. They felt more like vehicles for missions than fully realized people, which made it hard for me to stay emotionally invested. The plot moves fast, but it’s driven almost entirely by operations rather than character development or suspense that builds beyond “what happens next in the mission.”

There’s also a lot of technical detail, which slowed the pacing for me instead of heightening tension. I found myself skimming sections, waiting for the story to dig deeper or shift focus, and it never quite did.

This isn’t a bad book; it’s just very much written for a specific audience. If you love military thrillers with nonstop action and realism, this will probably hit the mark. If you’re like me and need more character, intrigue, and narrative depth, this one may miss the target.

The Quiet Girls by Dorothy Koomson

A missing girl, a dead teacher, and an appalling amount of silence.

From the opening pages, The Quiet Girls feels off in the most unsettling way. A teenage girl goes missing from a prestigious school, a teacher is found dead, and yet there is a disturbing lack of urgency from those in power. The absence of official investigation becomes one of the book’s earliest sources of tension, immediately signaling that this story will not follow a typical crime-fiction path.

The narrative unfolds through two interwoven threads: Dr. Kez Lanyon’s present-day perspective as she begins asking quiet but dangerous questions, and the voice notes of Fredi, the missing girl, which gradually reveal her experiences leading up to her disappearance. Between these two timelines, the story develops not through procedural investigation but through relationships, power dynamics, and what people choose not to say.

As Kez untangles the web surrounding the school it becomes increasingly clear that silence is not accidental. The story starts as a slow burn while the characters and dynamics are established, but that pacing works in its favor. About 100 pages in, I found myself tracking relationships, sensing early on that nothing here would be straightforward. Once the momentum builds, the book becomes a relentless psychological thriller. I put it down once to sleep and picked it up first thing the next morning, unable to stop until the final page.

Kez Lanyon was a standout character for me. I admired her courage, her persistence, and her refusal to back down when something felt deeply wrong. What frustrated me, clearly by design, was the number of adults who either suspected the truth or chose not to act. This is a school, and as a teacher, I found the collective silence surrounding the girls was infuriating.

The psychological tension is highly effective, creating the feeling of watching a slow-motion train wreck. You don’t want to see what’s coming, but you can’t look away. Themes of wealth, class privilege, and silence are woven seamlessly into the story, highlighting how power protects itself. I did not see the villain coming, and the reveal genuinely shocked and appalled me in the best possible way.

Content warnings include sexual assault, pedophilia, and animal cruelty. Despite some deceptively simple language early on, this is not a young adult novel. Readers who enjoy dark psychological thrillers, particularly fans of Freida McFadden, will likely find this one gripping and unsettling.

A special thank you to Headline Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

The Dahlia Suite by Carinn Jade

Three women, one island, and far more baggage than what’s packed for vacation.

The Dahlia Suite pulled me in slowly and deliberately, taking its time to let me settle into the world and really get to know the characters before tightening the screws. That patience pays off. By the time the story turns twisty, I was fully invested, and eventually, completely unable to put it down until the ending, which I never saw coming.

The novel is told from the points of view of three women: Gabby, Lindsay, and Paige. Each was carrying her own private struggles to Suenos Resort on Beck Island, a small, exclusive private island off the coast of Puerto Rico. Suenos caters to the ultra-wealthy, offering luxury and privacy that feels almost unreal… and that setting of “perfect paradise” becomes a sharp contrast to the very real problems the characters bring with them.

Gabby is the resort concierge, someone who prides herself on making other people’s dreams come true while quietly neglecting her own. Lindsay is an actress desperate to win an Oscar, retreating to Suenos to reassess her career and her life away from public scrutiny. Paige is married to Ethan, the COO of the hospitality company that operates the resort, and she’s struggling on two fronts: infertility after trying to conceive again, and the frustration of a manuscript that no publisher seems willing to accept. Each woman’s voice feels distinct, and I appreciated how their experiences, hang-ups, and emotional baggage unfolded naturally through their individual perspectives.

This book truly has a bit of everything, lost love, the possibility of romance rekindled, murder, and even a touch of the paranormal, all set against a backdrop most people would consider absolute paradise. When someone goes missing and it becomes clear she isn’t the first, the story shifts gears and becomes increasingly tense and unpredictable.

I’ll admit that when a psychic entered the picture, I initially rolled my eyes. I’m skeptical by nature. But the way Jade integrates this element, particularly in relation to Paige, felt organic and surprisingly effective. Even if you’re unsure where you land on psychic abilities, the story makes it easy to suspend disbelief and lean into it.

If I had to note one critique, it would be that the book starts on the slower side as the foundation is being built. Personally, I appreciated that time spent developing character and atmosphere, but readers expecting immediate action should know this is a gradual, layered build. Once it takes off, though, it really takes off.

The hook, for me, is simple and powerful: even in paradise, people don’t leave their troubles behind, and sometimes those troubles are deadly. I loved how justice was ultimately handled and how the women find their way forward without everything being neatly or unrealistically tied up.

I don’t want to give anything away, but I can say this confidently: I loved this book. As the story grew, so did my inability to stop reading. I would recommend The Dahlia Suite to just about everyone. Yes, everyone. It really is That Good.

A special thank you to Atria Books for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.