Murder, She Wrote: A Killing in Real Estate by Jessica Fletcher and Terrie Farley Moran

Cabot Cove still feels like home...cozy, charming, and statistically overflowing with murder.

I just finished reading Murder, She Wrote: A Killing in Real Estate by Jessica Fletcher and Terrie Farley Moran. Reading this book felt like I was climbing into a time machine.

I remember watching Murder, She Wrote in the 90s and never missed an episode if I could help it, even going so far as to set my VCR to watch it later. Reading this brought all of that rushing back immediately. I could practically hear Angela Lansbury’s voice in my head while reading. Jessica Fletcher still feels exactly like herself all these years later: sensible shoes, bicycle rides to clear her mind, quiet intelligence, and a knack for finding murder wherever she goes.

This mystery takes place in Cabot Cove, where tensions are rising over a developer hoping to build a four-star hotel in the area. Naturally, not everyone wants the beautiful small-town landscape turned into a tourist destination. At the same time, the town is searching for a new mayor who will protect Cabot Cove from overdevelopment. When murder enters the picture, Jessica starts untangling the secrets and motives hiding beneath the town’s polite surface.

What I enjoyed most was the atmosphere and nostalgia. Cabot Cove still feels cozy and familiar, almost like visiting an old friend. The town itself remains one of the strongest “characters” in the series. I also appreciated that Jessica has not been dramatically modernized or changed into someone unrecognizable after 62 books. She is still calm, observant, compassionate, and quietly sharp.

The mystery itself was solid and entertaining, although this was not one of those books that kept me awake all night because I absolutely had to know what happened next. Instead, it felt comfortable and reliable. The pacing was steady, the small-town politics added an interesting layer to the plot, and the story captured the same cozy charm that made the television series so beloved.

As for content warnings, this is a cozy mystery, so readers should expect murder and investigation themes, but nothing felt overly graphic or disturbing.

Overall, I gave this one 4 out of 5 stars. If you love cozy mysteries, small-town settings, or grew up watching Jessica Fletcher solve crimes from her little corner of Maine, this is a very enjoyable nostalgic read. Even though this is the 62nd book in the series, it works perfectly well as a standalone cozy mystery.

Thank you to NetGalley and Berkley Publishing Group for providing me an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review. 

Hysteria by LJ Ross (Alexander Gregory #2)

Beautiful people, fake identities, psychological trauma, and murder? Paris Fashion Week has really escalated.

Hysteria was a five-star read for me. I picked it up intending to read a few chapters and ended up devouring the entire thing in one sitting. This is absolutely a psychological thriller, and an exceptionally well-done one at that.

Dr. Alexander Gregory is called to Paris during Fashion Week after the attempted murder of a model whose identity appears to have been fabricated only weeks earlier. Then another model turns up dead, and suddenly the glamorous world of high fashion starts feeling less like luxury and more like a pressure cooker waiting to explode. Beneath the beauty and wealth is rot, secrets, manipulation, and people who are very much not what they seem.

What I loved most about this book was the characterization, especially Gregory himself. He is brilliant and respected in his field, but still deeply human. He makes mistakes. He struggles. His night terrors and mental health challenges felt believable and respectfully handled rather than exaggerated for drama. In fact, I think those struggles are what make him so good at understanding other people. He recognizes suffering because he lives with it himself, and that gave the story emotional weight beyond the murder investigation.

The pacing hooked me immediately and never let go. Every time I thought I understood who I could trust, the author quietly removed the entire floor from under me. I genuinely did not see the reveal coming. Even more impressive, the twist felt earned rather than random. 

I also really appreciated the humor. It was dry, sarcastic, and occasionally dark in exactly the right way. In a story dealing with murder, trauma, and psychological strain, those moments kept the book from ever feeling emotionally heavy in a tedious way.

Honestly I can’t think of a single critique. I didn’t even roll my eyes once while reading, which thriller readers know is practically a miracle. The plot stayed believable, the tension stayed high, and the characters remained compelling throughout. I even liked the villain…until the ending made me rethink everything.

Content warnings for murder, abuse, and mental health struggles.

I would highly recommend this to fans of psychological thrillers, especially readers who enjoy damaged but believable investigators, morally complicated characters, and mysteries where appearances are constantly deceiving.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for providing me with an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review.

 Would I like to visit? Absolutely not. Everyone there is probably in a murder cult.

Nothing says ‘relaxing island getaway’ quite like ritual murders, religious fanatics, and enough secrets to sink a fishing boat. After a couple of recent reads that barely scraped past “aggressively mediocre,” I picked up Holy Island by LJ Ross and immediately remembered what it feels like to actually enjoy a thriller again. This book completely understood the assignment.

The setting absolutely carries this story. Holy Island is isolated, naturally quiet, stormy, and the kind of place where everybody knows everybody else’s business while simultaneously pretending they know nothing at all. The island feels less like a backdrop and more like an active participant in the mystery. Every scene has this eerie stillness hanging over it, like the entire town collectively agreed to keep several terrible secrets. Which, as it turns out, they basically did.

We’ve got ritual murders. We’ve got creepy religious circles. We’ve got suspicious locals. We’ve got a pastor who proves once again that fictional clergy are rarely just handing out casseroles and good advice. Every time I thought I had somebody figured out, the book cheerfully informed me that I did not.

DCI Maxwell Ryan was also exactly the kind of detective I enjoy reading about: intelligent, observant, capable, and underestimated by the people above him. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching a competent investigator quietly outthink everyone around him while his bosses act like he’s one missed memo away from disaster.

Then there’s Dr. Anna Taylor, who returns to the island as a police consultant and immediately walks back into years of emotional baggage, especially with her sister, who never escaped island life in the first place. Their relationship added a really grounded emotional layer to the story. In between all the murder and cult nonsense, there’s this underlying tension about family, resentment, and what happens when one person leaves while another stays behind.

The romance was surprisingly well done. It didn’t take over the plot or turn into melodramatic sweaty nonsense every five chapters. It just added warmth and chemistry to a story already drowning in suspicion and ritualistic murder scenes. A refreshing change.

What really made this book work for me, though, was the atmosphere. This wasn’t one of those thrillers where characters sprint alone into danger armed only with bad instincts and a flashlight from Dollar Tree. The tension came from the environment itself: the isolation, the silence, the feeling that the island was watching everything unfold. By the end, I was completely immersed.

Would I visit Holy Island after reading this book? Absolutely not.

Beautiful scenery. Excellent mystery. Very high chance of accidental involvement in a murder cult.

One Last Lie by Blake Pierce (The Governess #1)

Nothing says ‘psychological thriller’ like a governess repeatedly ignoring every survival instinct available to her.

“Psychological thriller” is becoming one of those labels that can mean absolutely anything at this point. Sometimes it means a dark, twisty descent into manipulation and paranoia. Sometimes it means a woman making catastrophically bad decisions in a large house while ignoring every survival instinct God intended her to have. One Last Lie falls somewhere in the middle.

The premise honestly hooked me right away. Mary is hired as the governess for three children after their father dies, and she quickly becomes convinced that his death was not natural. Wealthy household, dead patriarch, suspicious atmosphere, secrets everywhere... Excellent! Sign me up!

This book had all the ingredients for one of those deliciously tense gothic-style mysteries where everyone is hiding something and somebody is definitely lurking dramatically in a hallway at midnight. The problem is that Mary is not a detective. Mary is a governess.

This woman spends the entire book plunking her holy little feet where angels fear to tread. She snoops, eavesdrops, and wanders into situations that would make any rational person immediately fake a headache and leave town.

To be fair, the mystery itself was entertaining enough to keep me listening. I did want to know what happened, and the atmosphere carried the story along reasonably well. But the reveal did not surprise me at all. I had things figured out long before the dramatic conclusion arrived, which took some of the tension out of the experience.

And unfortunately, the audiobook narration did not help matters.

There were repeated phrases and sentences scattered throughout the recording, and once I noticed it, I could not stop noticing it. Every repetition felt like the audiobook briefly skipped sideways in time. Instead of building suspense, it kept interrupting the flow of the story like a verbal speed bump. Nothing destroys thriller momentum quite like: “She walked quietly down the hallway… She walked quietly down the hallway…”

Overall, I landed at three stars. Not terrible. Just one of those books where the premise was stronger than the execution. Still, I will give the book credit for one thing: It fully committed to the timeless thriller tradition of “determined woman repeatedly investigates dangerous people alone for absolutely no reason whatsoever.”

Without Remorse by Ava Strong (Dakota Steele #2)

Hey, maybe stop sprinting alone toward violent suspects with zero backup and the survival instincts of a raccoon in a parking lot.

I just finished listening to Without Remorse by Ava Strong, and I have officially downgraded this one from “solid commute entertainment” to “why is nobody in this department filing paperwork about her behavior?”

This became what I call a commute-only audiobook. You know the type...interesting enough to keep playing during traffic, but not compelling enough to make you sit in the driveway for ten extra minutes pretending you “just need to hear one more chapter.”

The story itself was decent. A lunatic is turning women into metal sculptures. Horrifying premise. It moved quickly, the mystery kept me mildly interested, and there was enough action to hold my attention during the drive. Unfortunately, the main character spent the entire book making decisions that felt less like trained-investigator behavior and more like a raccoon frantically sprinting toward danger because it saw something shiny.

Every single time she got a lead, she immediately charged after it without waiting for backup. Every. Single. Time. And not once did a supervisor step in and say: “Ma’am, please stop running directly toward homicidal suspects by yourself like you’re trying to win a Darwin Award.”

Even her partner just allowed this behavior. No pushback. No consequences. No, “Hey, maybe we should use literally any tactical planning whatsoever.” The entire investigative team started feeling imaginary after a while.

The real problem is that once a thriller loses procedural credibility, it starts losing tension too. Instead of thinking: “Oh no, how will she survive this?” you start thinking: “Okay, what convenient miracle is about to save her now?” And this book loved convenient miracles.

At one point, our plot-armored heroine goes up against the gigantic villain described as basically seven feet tall and four hundred pounds of pure nightmare fuel. But don’t worry. She escapes because she bites him.

Ummm... No.

I can absolutely suspend disbelief for a thriller. I read thrillers constantly. But there’s a difference between exciting and unconvincing. If your main character survives solely because the plot wraps them in bubble wrap every chapter, eventually the danger stops feeling dangerous.

So where did I land? Probably a 3-star read on my snarky rating scale.

It wasn’t terrible. I wasn’t bored. It kept me reasonably entertained during my commute. But it also made me roll my eyes often enough that I probably burned calories.

19th Christmas by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro (Women's Murder Club #19)

Nothing says Christmas spirit quite like a police department drowning in fake crime tips.

I just finished reading 19th Christmas by James Patterson, and it landed squarely at four out of five stars on my highly scientific and occasionally snarky rating scale. This book has two storylines. One of them is excellent. The other feels like an after-school special that accidentally got stapled to the front of the novel. Let us begin with the stapled portion.

Cindy decides to do a Christmas story about undocumented immigrants celebrating the holidays. During this process, she interviews a woman whose husband has been sitting in jail for two years without trial for a crime he did not commit. Cindy gets Yuki involved, justice is served fairly quickly, and then the storyline basically vanishes into the mist.

I kept waiting for this plot to connect to the larger story in some meaningful way. It never really did. It wasn’t terrible. It just felt oddly dropped into the middle of a thriller that was doing something entirely different. The whole thing had the energy of:

    “We should probably include an Important Social Issue.”

    “Great. Put it… somewhere near the beginning.”

Now. The actual story.

A mysterious man known only as Loman is planning a massive Christmas Day heist, and this storyline was a blast. Instead of simply hiding from police, Loman manipulates the entire San Francisco Police Department by flooding them with rumors, anonymous tips, gossip, distractions, false leads, and enough nonsense to make everyone collectively lose their minds. The police are forced to chase every possibility because the one lead they ignore could be the real threat.

That’s what made the story so entertaining to me. Loman doesn’t overpower the police with brute force or cinematic mastermind nonsense. He weaponizes procedure. The department has to respond. They are trapped by their own responsibility, and the result is complete institutional chaos. It turns into this giant maze of dead ends and misdirection, with everyone exhausted, overworked, frustrated, and scrambling to figure out what is real before Christmas Day arrives.

The heist storyline fits the holiday setting perfectly. Christmas already comes with crowds, stress, overloaded systems, emotional people, and general chaos. A criminal exploiting all that noise feels believable in a way the first subplot never quite did.

This is one of those books where you can absolutely see the uneven seams, but you keep reading anyway because the main storyline is genuinely fun. And that is very classic Patterson. Sometimes the books are messy. Sometimes random subplots wander in from another universe. But when he locks into a fast-moving cat-and-mouse thriller, he still knows exactly how to keep the pages turning.

When They Find Me by Carter Wilson

Survival thriller with predators, trauma, and enough tension to ruin your blood pressure.

When They Find Me is one of those books that takes a little patience in the beginning, but once the pieces start falling into place, it becomes genuinely unsettling, and I enjoyed that.

The story follows Annie, a woman hiding in a small town with her daughter, Coral, while another timeline follows Riven, a young girl being raised by her father, Coyote, and his son Boone in an isolated and deeply disturbing “pack” mentality. Those two timelines will collide, but initially I struggled a bit because we are dropped directly into survival mode without much context. I knew Annie was terrified and hiding, and I knew Riven was being prepared to kill someone, but I didn’t yet understand why. That confusion made it harder for me to connect immediately.

Once Part 2 started revealing the backstory, though, everything started falling into place for me. I finally understood exactly what Annie and Coral were running from. When the timelines collided and Coyote, Boone, and Riven invaded the safety of Annie’s isolated home during a snowstorm, I was genuinely nervous for them.

Coyote was probably the most memorable character for me because he felt terrifyingly believable. His obsession with turning his children into “pack animals” instead of fully human individuals created this constant sense of dread throughout the novel. You cannot reason with someone like that, and the book understands this. Boone felt more like an extension of Coyote’s violence, while Riven became increasingly interesting as the story unfolded. She starts as someone completely controlled by fear and manipulation, but little cracks begin forming as she starts questioning her role in her father’s world.

The book explores a lot of heavy themes: survival versus truly living, predatory behavior, male dominance and control over women, trauma, consequences, and mental illness. I appreciated that the psychological elements added to the danger rather than feeling exaggerated just for shock value. Unfortunately, people like Coyote exist, and that realism made the story even more disturbing.

That said, the slow and somewhat confusing beginning kept this from being a full five-star read for me. I understand why the author structured it this way, but it took me a while to feel grounded in the story. Once I was invested, though, I flew through the rest of the book.

Overall, I’m giving When They Find Me 4 out of 5 stars. I would recommend it to readers who enjoy dark psychological thrillers, character-driven suspense, survival stories, and small-town thrillers with heavy emotional tension.

Content warnings for violence, predatory behavior, psychological trauma, manipulation, mental illness themes, and threats against women and children.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for providing me with an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The One by John Marrs

Nothing says modern romance quite like mailing your DNA to strangers and hoping for emotional stability.

I just finished The One, and forget about needles ... my new fear is science-sponsored soulmates.

The premise is simple, which is exactly why it is so creepy. A company discovers that your DNA can identify your perfect romantic match. Your soulmate. Your one true love. Your happily ever after, conveniently delivered through a cheek swab and a database.

This book takes the modern obsession with dating apps, compatibility algorithms, personality quizzes, and “the universe meant for us to be together” energy and shoves it straight off a cliff. Because once society decides DNA matching is scientifically accurate, people stop questioning anything. Marriages implode. Relationships disintegrate. People abandon perfectly decent partners because “the science says otherwise.” Entire lives get rearranged because a lab report basically said, “Congratulations, this stranger is now your destiny.”

The crazy thing is it feels believable. Not futuristic-flying-cars believable. More like “I could absolutely see people doing this by next Tuesday” believable.

The real genius of the book is the mind games. Nobody here is a cartoon villain cackling in the shadows. They are regular people with regular insecurities making increasingly horrifying choices because they are desperate to protect their secrets. And EVERYBODY has secrets. Every single character is carrying emotional baggage like the airline stopped charging baggage fees entirely.

Take the serial killer storyline. This book looked at “DNA soulmates” and decided it still needed MORE nightmare fuel. One character is literally running around murdering women because he wants to reach a personal goal number. Not revenge. Not rage. Just… statistics. Like he turned homicide into a fitness tracker achievement. The scariest part is how calm and matter-of-fact he is about it.

The whole book has this unsettling undercurrent about people handing over responsibility for their choices to systems. The DNA company turns love into data. Society worships the results unquestioningly. Characters ignore giant red flags because “The One” is supposedly fate. Meanwhile, basic common sense packs a suitcase and quietly leaves the building.

It raises some genuinely uncomfortable questions:

If science proved someone was your soulmate, would you leave your spouse?
Would people mistake certainty for love?
Do we actually want truth, or do we just want reassurance?

And maybe most importantly:

Should we really be trusting strangers with our DNA when some of us still use “password123”?

By the end, I was equal parts fascinated, horrified, and deeply suspicious of every ancestry test commercial I have ever seen.

This novel had a slow start for me, but I'm giving it four stars for emotional damage. 

No Man's Land by David Baldacci (John Puller #4)

 Officially, Puller was told not to investigate. Unofficially? ‘Try not to get murdered.’

I finished listening to No Man’s Land by David Baldacci this morning, and this one was five stars all the way.

My Steven, who actually retired from the military and therefore insists on things like “accuracy” and “realistic procedures,” insisted portions of this book were not how any of this would work in real life. Meanwhile, I was over here happily singing, “That's why it's fiction, Steven! ” Because John Puller charging headfirst into danger while everyone around him delivers vague warnings and unofficial orders is exactly what I signed up for.

At the beginning, Puller learns that his father, a respected military figure, may have been involved in the disappearance of Puller’s mother thirty years earlier. Officially, he’s told not to investigate. Unofficially, it feels a lot more like, “Definitely don’t investigate this… but maybe take some leave, quietly poke around, and try not to get murdered.” My kind of logic. And the deeper Puller digs, the messier everything becomes.

That was my favorite thing about this book: Every assumption gets ripped apart. The person everyone believed was evil incarnate ... not so much. The serial killer story everyone accepted for decades ... also ... not so much. The seemingly shallow woman who appears to have ulterior motives ... not so much. Turns out there’s a lot more going on there too.

Nobody is exactly who they first appear to be, and Baldacci keeps shifting the reader’s perspective just enough to make you question every conclusion right alongside Puller. What starts as a cold-case family mystery slowly turns into a tangled web of military secrets, corruption, buried trauma, and people who have spent decades protecting dangerous lies.

And somehow, despite all that complexity, it never became hard to follow. The tension just kept building layer by layer until suddenly I was completely invested in uncovering what really happened to Puller’s mother. And listening to an audiobook while I wasn't in the car.

Paul Rogers was another standout character for me. Fresh out of prison and absolutely uninterested in behaving like a properly grateful parolee, he brought this unpredictable energy to every scene he was in. I never fully trusted him, but I never fully disliked him either, which made him far more interesting than a standard troubled ex-con character. 

Also, a well-deserved shout-out to the audiobook production team because they absolutely nailed this. The dual narration was excellent, and the occasional sound effects added tension without turning the whole thing into an overdramatic radio play. At this point, I’ve come to expect top-tier audiobook production from Baldacci adaptations, and once again they delivered.

This book reminded me why the John Puller series works so well. There’s action, there are conspiracies. There are moments where real military professionals probably clutch their temples in despair. But underneath all of that is a genuinely compelling emotional story about family, loyalty, memory, and the danger of believing easy narratives.

Also, apparently if John Puller followed actual military procedure, this book would’ve been four hundred pages of paperwork and denied requests, so I think fiction made the correct choice here.

In Her Own League by Liz Tomforde

Yes yes, congratulations on the sweating. Anyway, back to the baseball franchise politics.

I am not usually a romance reader. At all. My reading habits generally involve serial killers, conspiracies, missing persons, corrupt officials, or at minimum somebody uncovering dark family secrets in a creepy small town. Romance novels and I tend to look at each other across the room with mutual suspicion. But I actually enjoyed this one. Part of that is because the book has an actual storyline beyond two attractive people staring aggressively at each other for 400 pages.

Reese is the new female owner of the Windy City Warriors MLB team, which means she spends most of the book trying to survive in a world where everyone assumes she is unqualified before she even opens her mouth. She has to constantly prove herself while dealing with players, management, media pressure, and all the lovely sexism that comes with being a woman in charge of a professional baseball franchise.

That immediately gave the story something real to work with.

Then there is Emmett Montgomery, the team’s field manager. Naturally, they hate each other at first because apparently romance novels run on a strict federal enemies-to-lovers requirement. But in this case, the conflict actually made sense. They both care deeply about the team, they clash over leadership and control, and as they slowly start understanding each other, the relationship develops naturally instead of feeling forced. The romance grew out of the story instead of replacing the story.

I also appreciated that Reese felt like an actual competent adult with real pressure on her shoulders rather than a female character whose entire personality is “tiny but stubborn.” She was ambitious, frustrated, determined, and exhausted from constantly having to fight for credibility. Honestly, half the time I was more invested in whether she could survive baseball politics than whether the romance worked out.

Now. We do need to discuss the sweaty elephant in the room.

My opinion on explicit romance scenes remains unchanged. They still do absolutely nothing for me. I skimmed them with the speed and efficiency of someone escaping a burning building. Congratulations to everybody involved, but I would personally like to return to the baseball franchise drama immediately.

That said, even with the scenes I could have done without, I still genuinely liked this book.

I think sports romance works better for me than a lot of romance subgenres because there are actual external stakes involved. There is competition, pressure, career conflict, public image, leadership struggles, and team dynamics. Things are happening besides longing eye contact and emotional spiraling in artisanal coffee shops.

So while I probably will not suddenly transform into a full-time romance reader, In Her Own League definitely proved that if you give me a strong storyline, a capable female lead, and enough workplace chaos, I can be persuaded. Briefly.

Missing Molly by Natalie Barelli

A thriller without urgency is just people making questionable decisions for 300 pages.

I really wanted to enjoy Missing Molly because the premise had all the ingredients for a tense, fast-paced thriller: a missing girl living under a new identity, a murdered family, the wrong man imprisoned for the crime, and the terrifying possibility that the real killer has resurfaced years later. Unfortunately, while the setup was compelling, the execution never fully pulled me in.

Rachel Holloway, who is revealed to be the missing Molly Forster, was difficult for me to connect with as a protagonist. Many of her choices felt unrealistic and frustrating rather than suspenseful. At one point, knowing the real killer may have returned, she still invites him into her home around her boyfriend and young child. Instead of increasing the tension, moments like this pulled me out of the story because her actions often did not feel emotionally believable.

I also struggled with the pacing. For a thriller, the story lacked the urgency and suspense I was expecting. I kept waiting for the tension to build, but I never felt that “just one more chapter” momentum that usually keeps me glued to a thriller late into the night. Ironically, I found myself more interested in what happened during the years Molly spent in hiding than in the present-day storyline itself.

The psychiatric hospital subplot also felt more like a convenient way to create conflict than a natural progression of the story. Combined with Rachel’s increasingly erratic behavior and an unsupportive relationship with her boyfriend, it became difficult to emotionally invest in the characters or their choices.

That said, I can still appreciate the potential behind the concept, and I think readers who enjoy slower-paced domestic suspense with unreliable or emotionally unstable narrators may connect with this more than I did. Unfortunately, I never felt fully engaged, surprised, or emotionally invested in the outcome.

Overall, this one landed at 2 stars for me. I finished it mostly out of determination rather than genuine suspense, which is never quite what I hope for in a thriller.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for providing me with an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Dark Country by Adam Plantingo (Kurt Argento #3)

Nothing good ever comes from minding your own business in a thriller novel.

I started reading Dark Country this morning, picked it up again this evening, and suddenly it was somehow nighttime and I had somehow read the entire thing. Apparently laundry, responsibilities, and basic time awareness no longer exist once Kurt Argento enters the picture.

Kurt is hiding out from his past, working as a groundskeeper at a small-town church under a fake name and trying very hard to stay invisible. Naturally, that plan explodes the moment a teenage boy comes tearing across church property with two goons chasing him. From there, the story turns into a relentless cross-country pursuit as Kurt tries to keep the boy alive long enough to figure out why anyone would want him dead in the first place.

And that question absolutely drives this book: Why this kid?

The urgency in this story was palpable. Every chapter pushed me into “just one more chapter” territory until I finally gave up pretending I was going to stop reading. I was completely invested in the boy’s safety and welfare. At seventeen, he has already survived more trauma than most adults, having grown up in war-torn Syria, and now he is being hunted by absolute psychopaths. The emotional weight of that really landed for me.

The kid himself was written extremely well. He was smart, capable, morally grounded, and believable. His background as a track star came in very handy during the chase scenes, and I appreciated that he felt like an actual teenager instead of a plot device.

Kurt was easily my favorite part of the book. Any man willing to take a bullet for a kid he barely knows is going to earn points with me immediately. He reminded me a bit of Jack Reacher and John Puller, men who do the right thing even when it would be much easier, and much safer, not to. I also loved his dry humor, which balanced out some of the darker moments perfectly.

These villains are horrifying. They are truly some of the most disturbing psychopaths I have read in a thriller in a long time. Skinning people is apparently one of their hobbies, which puts them firmly in the category of People I Don't Want to Meet Ever. There are several scenes involving violence, torture, and graphic deaths, so readers should definitely keep the content warnings in mind.

The reveal behind why the boy was being hunted completely floored me. I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say this book did absolutely nothing to improve my trust in unscheduled medical procedures.

My one small critique involved Visser, the lawyer. He was deeply unlikeable in exactly the way he was supposed to be: greedy, narcissistic, and awful. I wasn’t sure we needed to know that he hated the butler, an educated Black man. That said, I thoroughly enjoyed how that particular subplot paid off in the end.

Overall, this was an easy five stars for me. The pacing was relentless, the stakes felt real, the emotional investment was strong, and the central mystery kept me hooked from beginning to end. I would absolutely recommend this to fans of Lee Child, David Baldacci, and James Patterson, especially readers who enjoy lone-wolf protectors, fast-moving action, and thrillers built around one irresistible question:

Why are they after this kid?

A special thank you to Grand Central Publishing for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. 

Book Bouquets

I spent the afternoon with my sister and she taught me how to make book bouquets. All I need now is a glue gun and some plastic flowers. Heaven knows I have plenty of books! 

The Escape by David Baldacci (John Puller #3)

Apparently my fictional comfort zone is competent men with family trauma solving problems while everyone else makes terrible decisions.

I finished listening to The Escape by David Baldacci. I don't know what I can even say at this point that I have not already said about this series.

The narration team was fantastic. Again.

The occasional sound effects enhanced the story instead of making me feel like I was trapped inside a low-budget action movie. Again.

John Puller remains one of my favorite fictional men because he is intelligent, loyal, emotionally restrained, capable under pressure, and apparently incapable of walking away from a disaster if there is even a slight chance he can help. Again.

And perhaps most telling of all: I immediately checked out No Man’s Land, book four in the series, before I had even fully processed the ending.

That is always the real review, isn’t it? Nobody finishes a mediocre thriller and says, “You know what sounds great? Eleven more hours of this!”

In my last review, I mentioned that John’s brother, Robert, was in prison after being convicted of treason, and I specifically said I needed more information about that situation. Well. Ask and ye shall receive!

This is the book that finally explains what happened to Robert Puller, why he ended up in prison, and what the Puller family is willing to do about it. That storyline added a whole new emotional layer to the series for me. Up until now, Robert has mostly existed as this shadow hanging over the family, the elephant in the room sitting quietly in the background. Here, everything finally comes crashing into the spotlight.

One thing I continue to appreciate about this series is how consistent it feels. Some thriller series start strong and then slowly drift into cartoon territory where the main character survives fourteen explosions, fights off an army with a paperclip, and somehow still has time for witty banter. The Puller books stay grounded enough that the danger feels real while still being wildly entertaining.

And Puller himself is a huge reason why these books work for me. He is competent without being smug, tough without being emotionless, and deeply loyal to the people he cares about. Underneath all the military precision and investigative skills, there is still a guy trying to hold his fractured family together while navigating impossible situations. 

The audiobook production deserves another shoutout too. A good narrator can save an average book, but a great narration team can elevate an already good one into something immersive. The performances here continue to pull me right into the tension, and the subtle sound effects add atmosphere without overdoing it. It feels cinematic in the best way.

So yes, once again, I loved it. Once again, John Puller is awesome. And once again, I have immediately lined up the next book because apparently I live here now.

Teacher Appreciation Week

A gift from my boss
Thank you, Mrs. Wilczak!

 

18th Abduction by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro (Women's Murder Club #18)

Nothing says ‘adulting’ like ignoring responsibilities for fictional crime.

I went into 18th Abduction thinking I’d read a few chapters and be a responsible adult. That did not happen. Instead, I read the entire book in one day, because apparently I make excellent life choices when a Women’s Murder Club novel is involved.

This one starts off with two separate cases that feel like they shouldn’t even be in the same universe. Lindsay is working a deeply unsettling case involving three missing teachers. It's high stakes, emotional, and the kind that immediately pulls you in. Meanwhile, Joe is dealing with a Serbian criminal who has somehow landed in San Francisco, living like a king and basically daring law enforcement to do something about it.

Naturally, I assumed these were just parallel storylines. And naturally, I was wrong. Because when those two cases connect it’s the kind of connection that makes you stop and say, “Ooooh noooo.” And suddenly everything feels bigger, darker, and a whole lot more personal.

My favorite part of this book, though, isn’t even the twist. It’s Joe and Lindsay. In this one, they’re not just passing each other in the kitchen and exchanging dramatic one-liners about their cases. They are fully invested in their own investigations and in each other. They come home, they talk things through, they respect each other’s instincts, and instead of creating tension, it actually strengthens their relationship.  There’s this quiet shift where it’s not about ego or who cracks the case first. It’s about trust. Real trust. The kind that makes you believe they’re better together than they are apart, both personally and professionally. (Mr. Patterson and Ms. Paetro, it's about time!)

Don’t get me wrong. The pacing is classic Patterson (fast, addictive, and very bad for your productivity), and the stakes are high from start to finish. But it’s that combination of a gripping plot and a stronger, more grounded partnership between Joe and Lindsay that really made this one stand out for me. Five stars. No hesitation.

Just maybe don’t start it on a day when you have things to do… unless you’re okay not doing any of them.

The Love Trials by Claire Fraise (Phantom Minds #1)

 Love is pain...but this is ridiculous!

I picked up The Love Trials for my book club reading thinking I was getting a thriller with a paranormal twist. What I got instead was emotional damage, psychological chaos, and a man out here turning relationships into horror games that make therapy look like a luxury spa day.

The setup is simple enough on paper (which is hilarious, because nothing about this book is simple). Serial killers don’t just die and stay gone. Instead, their ghosts come back, possess random everyday people, and keep right on killing until a specialist team can figure out what’s anchoring them to the world.

This particular case involves Morrow, a serial killer who died but clearly did not take “rest in peace” as a suggestion. He had been engaged, got dumped, and apparently decided that was not just a personal tragedy but a full-scale indictment of love itself. So naturally, he starts kidnapping couples and forcing them into “love trials.” And when I say trials, I do not mean trust falls or communication exercises. I mean things like: whichever of you pulls out the most of your own teeth with pliers gets to live. Romance is not dead. It’s just deeply unwell. And yes, it is as horrifying as it sounds.

The thing about this book is that it lives in that very specific space where you know you should probably stop reading, but your brain refuses to cooperate. I kept thinking, okay, I should take a break from this, and then immediately did not take a break from this. It’s a full “one more chapter” situation that somehow turns into half the book disappearing. I read it in two sittings and lost more sleep than I should have.

Strip away the romance, and what you’re left with is a genuinely mind-bending paranormal thriller. The idea that the “killer” is technically a possessed victim adds this uncomfortable moral layer where you’re not just chasing a monster, you’re also trying to save the person trapped by it. The possession element isn’t just a gimmick; it forces you to constantly question what’s real, who’s in control, and how far the team has to go to stop something that keeps changing hosts.

Morrow himself is particularly unsettling because his logic is so human at the core. Rejection, bitterness, and ego twisted into something absolute. His “love trials” aren’t random acts of violence. They’re structured, intentional, and designed to prove that love will fail under pressure. Which makes Nico and Eden’s storyline, once they start being honest with themselves and each other, feel like a long rebuttal to his entire worldview. He says love is fragile; they keep proving it’s stubborn.

And yes, I knew they were going to make it. This is book one in a series (Phantom Minds #1), so I wasn’t exactly clutching my pearls over their survival. But that didn’t make the journey any less intense. The question was never if they would get through it, but what it would cost them to do so.

I’ll admit, I could have done without the steamy scenes. They make sense in the context of targeting couples, but tonally it’s a bit like switching from “existential paranormal horror” to “romance montage” and then back again without warning. Slight whiplash.

Still, I couldn’t put it down. I didn’t want to stop. I just kept reading faster and faster, which is probably not the most rational response to a book involving ghost serial killers and pliers-based relationship tests, but here we are. So yes, it’s a train wreck. A brilliant, horrifying, slightly unhinged train wreck. And I absolutely loved it.

Now I just need book two. Immediately. 

The 17th Suspect by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro (Women's Murder Club #17)

Some victims get justice. Others get ignored. This book makes you feel the difference.

I made the classic mistake: “I’ll just read a few chapters.” Cut to several hours later, and if I were home, the dishes would still be in the sink, my responsibilities ignored, and I finished The 17th Suspect in one sitting. Worth it.

This one runs on two storylines, and both of them grab you for very different reasons.

First, there’s Michael. He is a man targeting homeless people in a park while the homicide department for that section of the city basically shrugs. I was right there with Lindsay in the frustration. Watching investigators drag their feet while victims are treated like they don’t matter was infuriating. Especially when new detectives step in and start making real progress almost immediately. Funny how that works when someone actually does their job. 

It hits a little too close to reality, too. The idea that cases move faster when the victims are “important” is not exactly a stretch, and the book doesn’t try to pretend otherwise.

I was shocked when I discovered who Michael was. Patterson played it just straight enough that I thought I had a handle on things. I wanted to flip back and see what I missed. 

Then there’s Yuki’s case, which takes a completely different angle. She is prosecuting a male rape case that could shift how these cases are handled in court. It’s not something you see explored often, and it adds a layer of weight to the story that goes beyond just solving a crime. The outcome actually matters, not just for the people involved, but for what it represents.

What really made this a five-star read for me wasn’t just the pacing (which is classic Patterson—fast, addictive, “just one more chapter” energy). It was the emotional punch behind it. The anger. The injustice. The sense that some lives are valued more than others - and what happens when someone decides to do something about it.

Five stars, easily. Just don’t expect to be productive once you start.

The Forgotten by David Baldacci (John Puller #2)

 I planned a casual listen. Baldacci planned a hostage situation.

I picked up The Forgotten by David Baldacci as my latest “commute listen,” fully expecting it to live its entire life in my car speakers like most audiobooks do. You know the type ... perfectly enjoyable, but once you turn off the ignition, so does your interest. That did not happen here.

This is the second book in the John Puller series, and somewhere along the way, Baldacci pulled a fast one on me. I started out invested in the case; it’s twisty and tense. But without making a big show of it, he quietly built a character I trusted, like Jack Reacher, but still in the service.

John Puller is that guy. The steady, grounded, morally solid kind of character you want on your side when things go sideways. What really worked for me is that his decisions aren’t always about what’s legal. They’re about what’s right. And when those two things don’t line up? Puller makes the call anyway. No drama, no speeches, just…does the job.

And then Baldacci layered in the twist. I had a pretty good handle on most of the villains (which always makes me feel slightly smug), but the involvement of dirty cops I did not see coming. That shift raises the stakes in a way that hits harder, because now it’s not just about stopping bad people; it’s about figuring out who you can even trust. 

Now let’s talk audiobook, because this one deserves it.

There are two narrators (one male, one female) and it makes a huge difference. No confusion, no “who is this again?” moments. Add in some subtle background effects, and suddenly you’re not just listening, you’re right there in the tension with them. It’s immersive, which is exactly how I like it. I didn’t stop even when I got home.

I kept listening. Through dinner. Through the evening while I decided to repot some plants. Through that little voice that said, “You could finish this tomorrow like a reasonable person.” I ignored that voice completely and listened to the last three hours straight through. That almost never happens for me.

So yes, this is a five-star novel. Not just because the story is strong (it is), or because the twist landed (it did), or even because Puller is now firmly in my “favorite characters” category (he is). It’s five stars because it broke out of its designated “commute only” box and took over my evening. And I’m not even mad about it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve already borrowed book three… and I’m suddenly hoping for traffic.

Vortex by Catherine Counter (FBI Thriller #25)

Jumping into book #25 of any long-running series is a bit like walking into a family reunion and realizing you only recognize two cousins.

I just finished Vortex by Catherine Coulter, and overall, I landed on a solid four stars on my slightly snarky rating system: Good, solid read, and I laughed more than I eye-rolled.

Now, I’ve read a couple books in this series before (years ago) but not nearly enough to confidently stroll into book #25 like I belong there. And this series does have history. You can feel it in the interactions between some of the characters.

Savich and Sherlock are still some of the most memorable character names out there. No notes. Love them. Apparently they have a son, Sean. Like I said, I missed a few in the series.

I did get a bit disconnected in this one. This is technically an FBI thriller, but I never quite felt that edge-of-your-seat urgency I usually expect from the genre. The stakes were there, the crimes were happening, but the pacing didn’t quite match the intensity I was hoping for. It felt more like a steady cruise than a high-speed chase.

And then there were the two storylines. They didn’t really connect. At all. Which left me wondering, are Savich and Sherlock not really working together anymore? Because one of the things I remember liking about this series was their partnership. That back-and-forth, solving-the-same-case energy. Here, it felt more like they were off doing their own separate things in the same general universe.

To be fair, this is book twenty-five. At this point, it makes sense that the world has expanded, side characters have stepped up, and the storytelling has shifted a bit. But as someone who clearly missed a lot of the middle, it did leave me feeling like I showed up late to the party and everyone else already knows the inside jokes.

Still, it was a solid read. Entertaining, easy to pick up when life gets busy, and engaging enough to keep me turning the pages even if I wasn’t exactly on the edge of my seat.

Would I recommend starting here? Absolutely not. I will read another one at some point, just maybe not book #26.