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.