A Book A Week

As a horror enthusiast, I like to weave in spooky reads throughout the year. With the arrival of Fall, my craving for the genre has intensified. So, I eagerly accepted when the publisher offered me Johnny Compton's Devils Kill Devils as an audiobook. The chilling premise immediately pulled me in, quickly satisfying my appetite for a gripping, terrifying read.

Sarita has always been shielded by a guardian angel, a mysterious presence she calls Angelo, keeping his existence hidden from the world. But even angels can’t remain unseen forever. Lately, Sarita has started to wonder whether Angelo is truly a force for good or something far more sinister. When he takes the life of someone she loves, Sarita is confronted with a chilling reality. To survive, she must confront the darkness lurking within herself and embrace the very evil she’s been trying to escape.

I went into Devils Kill Devils without any expectations, and right from the start, I felt a creeping sense of unease. Johnny Compton has a way of drawing readers in with a deceptively simple narrative, gradually revealing layers of terror that tighten their grip as the story unfolds. Imani Jade Powers’ narration brings Sarita to life, infusing Compton's characters with vivid energy. With the novel set in South Texas, the familiar locations added an extra sense of authenticity for me. While the ending felt a bit grander than the buildup might have warranted, it still delivered a chaotic and genuinely chilling conclusion. Overall, it was an intriguing start to my lineup of spooky reads for the season.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 71)

One of the great pleasures of reading is stepping outside your comfort zone. While I usually gravitate toward my favorite authors and genres, there's something exhilarating about discovering something entirely new. High fantasy isn't typically my go-to, but I can't resist the allure of a book everyone around me seems to be raving about. Sarah J. Maas has long been prominent in the YA fantasy scene. Lately, her novel A Court of Thorns and Roses has taken my circle by storm. Everyone I know is devouring this series and wondering why I haven't started it yet. So, I've finally decided to succumb to peer pressure and dive into this popular series.

After her father's fall from wealth plunged them into poverty, 19-year-old Feyre became her family's unexpected provider. Now, living in a small, dilapidated cottage on the edge of the forest, she's the one who hunts to keep her father and sisters fed. One day, while stalking a doe, Feyre encounters a wolf seemingly pursuing the same prey. Acting on instinct, she kills both the wolf and the doe, bringing them back to her family for food and warmth. Unbeknownst to her, this single act will irrevocably change her fate.

The wolf was no ordinary creature but a shapeshifting faerie—a being whose life was protected by ancient laws. Soon, a powerful High Fae arrives to exact punishment for the death, capturing Feyre and taking her to a distant, enchanted land. As she adjusts to her new surroundings, Feyre's initial hatred for her captor, Tamlin, slowly shifts into a passionate connection, challenging everything she thought she knew about the Fae and their dangerous world. She soon discovers that the faerie world is plagued by a dark and ancient curse. Feyre must find a way to fight the evil threatening Tamlin's land or risk losing him and everything she's come to care for.

It's easy to understand why A Court of Thorns and Roses has enchanted so many readers. Sarah J. Maas creates a fantasy world that's accessible yet rich with drama, making it easy even for someone like me, who doesn't usually gravitate toward this genre, to dive into the story. Her fast-paced storytelling doesn't dwell too long on intricate details but lets the action propel the plot, trusting readers to piece things together through dialogue and implied context. 

That said, I found myself puzzled by the overwhelming hype. The central romance between Feyre and her captor, reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast, felt unconvincing. It was hard for me to believe that she would develop feelings for the person who tore her away from her life. While the story's climax does tie back to the initial conflict in a satisfying way, the lack of authentic chemistry between the two lessened its emotional impact on me. I've heard from others that this is considered the weakest in the series, so I'll likely try the next book. Still, I'm a bit bewildered by the intense emotional reactions others have had to this novel, as it didn't resonate with me on that same level.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 70)

I love it when a book genuinely surprises me, especially since reading so many each year makes those moments rare. That's why TJ Klune's The House in the Cerulean Sea was such a delightful discovery when I picked it up earlier this year. Although I don't usually gravitate toward fantasy and was wary of the hype surrounding Klune's 2020 novel, it proved to be one of the most heartwarming and life-affirming books I've ever read. The quirky tale of a home for magical children touched me in unexpected ways, leaving me eager for more. With Klune returning for a sequel, he's hoping to recapture that magic and surprise readers all over again.

How far would you go to protect your family? Arthur Parnassus understands the importance of a nurturing environment. As an orphan himself, he witnessed the lasting impact of neglect and abuse on a child's life. This drove him to dedicate his life to caring for orphaned magical children on his island, providing them with a home full of learning, acceptance, and, most importantly, love. Alongside his partner Linus, Arthur is determined to shield his kids from harm. But given their unique abilities, that protection is anything but simple. That's why Arthur has agreed to testify before a government committee, hoping to prove just how ordinary his life and their home truly are.

Arthur and Linus walk into the hearing, fully aware that Arthur's past might be challenging to relive but hopeful that it will help prove that he and his family are nothing to fear. However, as the questioning begins, it becomes clear that the government's agenda is far from sincere. Instead of a fair inquiry, the hearing is designed to provoke Arthur, incite a reaction, and demonstrate that magical beings are dangerous. The confrontation escalates, ending in chaos, with the authorities calling for a new investigation into the island and the children who live there, framing them as threats to society. This isn't new for Arthur. He's faced the same hateful rhetoric his whole life. But he also knows how powerful hate can be. Now, determined to protect his family, he prepares to lead a fight for the future that both his loved ones and all magical beings deserve.

If The House in the Cerulean Sea was about finding your tribe—the people and place where you can be your true self, whether you're a gay man, a garden gnome, or even the antichrist—then Somewhere Beyond the Sea deepens that theme. It delves into the fragile nature of that sense of belonging, particularly for those outside societal norms, and highlights the challenges marginalized groups face in safeguarding their place in the world. TJ Klune dedicates this novel to the trans community and, in his author's note, identifies himself as the "anti-JK Rowling." He crafts a story that not only celebrates those considered "other" but also reminds us that, despite our differences, we have more in common than we realize.

In recent years, we've seen rising hostility toward the LGBTQ+ community, with harmful legislation and rhetoric gaining traction. Yet, as Klune's novel reminds us, the antidote to hate is something simple and powerful: love. Through his quiet, profound storytelling, Klune shows that humor, empathy, and love are universal languages that resonate with most people. Somewhere Beyond the Sea continues his mission to give voice to underrepresented communities, all without being preachy or alienating. It's a story I found myself completely immersed in, allowing the characters and message to wash over me in an authentic and understated way. Klune's work is a testament to love and acceptance, and it's heartening to see him continue to spread that message in a world that desperately needs it. I hope he keeps sharing stories like this for years to come.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 69)

Before his debut novel The Thursday Murder Club came out a few years ago, Richard Osman was widely recognized mostly as a British TV presenter. That debut was a huge success, leading to three sequels and establishing Osman as a prominent crime fiction author. Now, he returns with a new novel, introducing a fresh set of characters, aiming to launch another successful series. We Solve Murders, generously provided to me by Osman's US publisher, showcases his trademark wit in a murder mystery that promises to be another impressive addition to his growing body of works. 

Steve Wheeler has settled comfortably into retirement in a quiet English village, content with the slower pace of life. Once a cop handling high-profile cases, he's now a widower who spends his days on small local investigations like insurance claims and lost pets. His life may be quieter now, but Steve finds solace in routine—attending weekly quiz nights at the pub, caring for his cat Trouble, and leaving messages for his late wife on his dictaphone, a ritual that helps him cope with her absence.

Amy Wheeler, Steve’s daughter-in-law, shares a close bond with him, perhaps even closer than the one she shares with her husband, Adam. While Adam and Steve don’t communicate much beyond pleasantries, Amy tries to stay connected. Working as a personal bodyguard for a private security firm, Amy can relate to Steve's background, and they find common ground in their shared experiences. Amy’s current assignment is protecting Rosie D'Antonio, a top thriller author who has retreated to her private island off the coast of South Carolina after possibly angering a Russian oligarch with her latest book.

What was supposed to be a straightforward assignment takes a dangerous turn when a series of crimes—including the murders of influencers, money laundering, and a mysterious figure using ChatGPT to hide their identity—put Amy in the crosshairs. Framed for the crimes, Amy turns to Steve, the only person she trusts, to help her untangle the web of deception. Together, they embark on a globe-trotting adventure, determined to outsmart the criminal masterminds and stay one step ahead in a deadly game of cat and mouse.

I must admit, I approached We Solve Murders skeptically, unsure if Richard Osman could capture my attention as effectively as he did with his previous series. At first, my concerns seemed justified—I struggled to keep track of the new characters as Osman rapidly introduced them, bouncing from one to the next. The setup felt like a complex web of cast and plot, and I worried it might not all come together. But I should never have doubted him. Osman has once again delivered a stellar mystery filled with sharp social commentary, exhilarating twists, and his signature British wit. The story had the potential to veer into the outlandish, but Osman keeps it grounded through his protagonist, Steve. Steve serves as the everyman, guiding us through the proceedings with relatable bewilderment and providing the story with a solid emotional anchor. As I kept reading, I became increasingly captivated by Osman's writing, eager to solve the mystery and frequently laughing at his clever observations. We Solve Murders is a promising start to a new series, reaffirming Osman's talent for crafting compelling mysteries with charming characters and a delightful dose of humor.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 68)

I've always had a soft spot for classic murder mysteries. It's a genre that shaped my love for reading and often provides a go-to escape when I need a reliable book. So, when Ragnar Johnasson's publisher offered me an audio copy of his newest novel, Death at the Sanatorium, I was immediately intrigued. Icelandic crime fiction can be a mixed bag for me, but the idea of this novel being inspired by the classic mysteries I've come to love was too tempting to pass up. Fortunately, this one turned out to be a clever take on the genre.

In 1983, an elderly nurse was murdered at a hospital in Iceland, the site of a former sanatorium steeped in dark history. Detective Hulda Hermannsdóttir and her superior, Sverrir, were called in to investigate and begin questioning the staff on duty that night. A nurse's false testimony resulted in the arrest of a caretaker, but the case quickly took a turn. Just days later, a physician was found dead, having apparently fallen from a balcony. Sverrir deemed it a suicide, released the caretaker from custody, and assumed the physician was responsible for the nurse's murder, closing the case for good.

Nearly thirty years later, young police detective Helgi Reykdal is juggling his studies in criminology with a search for a job that aligns with his passion for classic mysteries. A devoted fan of Agatha Christie and P.D. James, Helgi has focused his dissertation on the old sanatorium murders in 1983, which he believes remain unsolved. By a stroke of fate, he secures a detective position with the Reykjavik police. It's the very role Hulda Hermannsdóttir held during the original investigation. Helgi revisits the cold case, convinced something was overlooked. As he begins meeting with the original suspects, he uncovers a long-buried web of silence and suspicion. Only his sharp intellect and determination will help him unravel the truth behind the decades-old mystery.

In Death at the Sanatorium, Ragnar Jonasson merges modern storytelling with a timeless murder mystery formula, creating a narrative that feels both familiar and fresh. The story alternates between two timelines—one set in the past, echoing classic detective novels, and the other in the present, where a young detective revisits a case long considered closed. This structure keeps readers on edge and adds layers of intrigue as the past's secrets slowly unravel in the present.

Though the characters could have been more deeply explored, the novel delivers an atmospheric, suspenseful mystery with a shocking and emotional twist. Jonasson's nod to golden-age detective fiction, combined with his contemporary take on justice and hidden truths, makes Death at the Sanatorium a gripping read for fans of the genre.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 67)

Meeting expectations is a challenging feat, especially when those expectations are sky-high. While anticipation signals past success, the pressure to surpass it can be overwhelming. That’s the situation Matt Haig faces with his latest release. His 2020 novel, The Midnight Library, was a runaway success, capturing readers' hearts with its imaginative tale of a woman exploring alternate lives through a magical library. The book struck a chord during a time of collective uncertainty, and even when I read it in 2022, it left a lasting emotional impact on me. Now, with Haig’s new novel, The Life Impossible, the anticipation is palpable, setting the stage for Haig to try to deliver on an already high bar. 

Retired math teacher Grace Winters finds herself slipping deeper into grief and loneliness. Years ago, her life was shattered when her 11-year-old son died in a tragic accident, leaving her emotionally scarred and disillusioned. Though she managed to finish her teaching career, retirement has brought little peace. The recent death of her husband has left Grace with no family, no purpose, and no reason to face each new day.

Out of the blue, Grace learns that her former colleague Christina, with whom she had lost touch, has passed away and inexplicably left her a crumbling house on the coast of Ibiza. With nothing to lose, Grace boards a one-way flight to Spain to untangle the mystery of this unexpected inheritance. Upon arriving, she’s confronted with more questions than answers. Having spent her life relying on the structure and logic of mathematics, Grace must now embrace uncertainty and take risks to uncover the truth behind Christina’s bequest and perhaps find a new direction for her own life.

In The Life Impossible, Matt Haig attempts to recapture the magic that made The Midnight Library successful. The familiar elements are there: a protagonist at her lowest point, a life-altering encounter with someone from her past, and a touch of magical realism, all designed to convey a message about the beauty of life's uncertainties and the possibility of redemption. These ingredients should create a moving and impactful story, but sadly, the novel falls short of this promise. The central conceit—the entire book being a 300+ page letter from the protagonist, Grace, to a former student struggling with depression—aims to inspire, but the message feels unclear. The narrative veers in different directions, shifting between themes of personal discovery, mystery, and environmental activism without fully committing to any of them.

The disjointed narrative makes for an uneven read, with no clear emotional throughline or character development to anchor the story. Grace feels more like a vessel for the book’s redemptive message than a fully developed character. While the ending is logical, it lacks the emotional resonance that Haig has previously delivered. Ultimately, The Life Impossible falls short of the high bar set by The Midnight Library, leaving this reader feeling more disappointed than moved.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 66)

September has arrived, bringing a slight chill to the air. Though the season is slowly changing here in South Texas, at least the temperatures aren’t as blistering as they were this summer! Even though it’s a bit early, I couldn’t resist diving into my favorite fall traditions—opening the windows to welcome the breeze, indulging in pumpkin spice everything, and, of course, starting some spooky season reads. I turned to a reliable favorite, Stephen Graham Jones. His previous novels, My Heart is a Chainsaw and The Only Good Indians, delivered some genuine scares, so I was excited to pick up his latest, I Was a Teenage Slasher. As expected, this new book blends memorable characters, a fresh plot, and spine-tingling chills that kept me turning the pages.

Lampasas, Texas, is about as remote as it gets. In 1989, this small town looked much the same as it does today, sustained by oil wells and cotton fields, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone else’s business because there’s little else to do. No one would have ever imagined that such a quiet town would produce a serial killer—least of all, the killer himself.

Tolly Driver considered himself a decent kid, even though he never quite fit in with the other teens in town. As he geared up for his senior year of high school, Tolly attended a party where most of his classmates gathered. But instead of blending in, he made a fool of himself, ending the night in a near-fatal accident that changed his life forever. That night sparked a transformation in Tolly, setting him on a dark path of revenge and turning him into a full-fledged serial killer.

I Was a Teenage Slasher might be Stephen Graham Jones' most accessible novel yet—at least as accessible as a story about a brutal serial killer can be. Jones takes the familiar tropes of a '90s teen slasher and gives them his own twisted spin. The story is told from the main character's perspective as he recounts his descent into darkness through a stream-of-consciousness flashback. Jones plays with the morally gray nature of his protagonist, adding a surprising sense of humor that provides some much-needed levity to the dark story. It’s a mix of classic slasher horror and a coming-of-age tale, resulting in a compelling page-turner I couldn’t put down. This is my favorite novel from Jones to date, and it was the perfect way to kick off my spooky season reading.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 65)