When Jess was thirteen her mother went for a walk and never returned. Jess and her older sister Liz never found out what happened. Instead, they did what they hoped their mother would do: survive. As soon as she was old enough, Jess fled their small town of Knife River, wandering from girlfriend to girlfriend like a ghost in her own life, aimless in her attempts to outrun grief and confusion. But one morning fifteen years later she gets the call she’s been bracing herself for: Her mother’s remains have been found.
First Line:
Her bones were discovered by a group of children playing in the woods.
Important details about Knife River
Pace: Slow
POV:1st person (Jess)
Content/Trigger Guidance: Knife River contains themes that include alcoholism, murder, alcohol, gun violence, the death of a parent, cancer,bullying, cheating, infidelity, anxiety, anxiety attacks, depression, mental health, blood, disappearance of a loved one, and homophobia. Please read carefully if these trigger you.
Language:Knife River contains moderate swearing and language that might offend some people.
Sexual Content: There is moderate sexual content in Knife River.
Setting: Knife River is set in Knife River, New York.
My Review
When I read the blurb for Knife River, I was intrigued. I read it after some internal debate (because I always do that with these books) and am glad I did. This book is a poignant and heartbreaking look into life after a loved one disappears. It also explores what the family goes through when a victim is found.
The main storyline of Knife River follows Jess. Jess was thirteen when her mother disappeared. Her mother’s disappearance and her older sister raising her had a drastic impact on Jess. She drifted from one relationship to another and kept everyone (including family) at arm’s length. One day, she receives a phone call from her older sister that turns her world upside down. Her mother’s body had been found, and she needed a home. Jess is determined to understand why her mother disappeared and looks for answers. The deeper she digs, the more she uncovers about her mother; not all is good. The answers she seeks might be different from what she wants to hear.
Knife River is a slow book. The slowness grated on me in places, but I understood why the author chose to keep it at this pace. The book needed to be slow to understand Jess’s state of mind and her actions throughout the book.
Jess was not likable, but I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Sometimes, she couldn’t get out of her own way and made things worse for herself. She also did and said things that made my eyebrows raise and made me wonder, “Why?” She was so damaged, and the author didn’t sugarcoat it.
The mystery of Jess’s mother’s disappearance was very well written. The author did a great job of showing what went into investigating a cold case and trying to find leads after fifteen years. She showed Jess and her sister’s frustration with the police when they stopped communicating with them about the case (of course, there was another reason why). I also liked Jess’s investigation and how she accidentally stumbled upon the truth of what happened. That was a massive twist to the disappearance. It was one that I didn’t see coming and took me completely by surprise.
The end of Knife River left me with more questions than answers. I was confused as to what happened with Jess and the girl she was sleeping with and why she just sat on the confession she got. But I did like that Jess and her sister had grown closer at the end of the book and, in a way, started healing from their mother’s disappearance.
Many thanks to Random House Publishing Group – Random House, The Dial Press, NetGalley, and Justine Champine for allowing me to read and review this ARC of Knife River. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
If you enjoy reading books similar to Knife River, then you will enjoy these books:
A historical drama based on the Battle of Blair Mountain, pitting a multi-ethnic army of 10,000 coal miners against mine owners, state militia, and the United States government in the largest labor uprising in American history.
Rednecks is a tour de force, big canvas historical novel that dramatizes the 1920 to 1921 events of the West Virginia Mine Wars—from the Matewan Massacre through the Battle of Blair Mountain, the largest armed conflict on American soil since the Civil War, when some one million rounds were fired, bombs were dropped on Appalachia, and the term “redneck” would come to have an unexpected origin story.
Brimming with the high stakes drama of America’s buried history, Rednecks tells a powerful story of rebellion against oppression. In a land where the coal companies use violence and intimidation to keep miners from organizing, “Doc Moo” Muhanna, a Lebanese-American doctor (inspired by the author’s own great-grandfather), toils amid the blood and injustice of the mining camps. When Frank Hugham, a Black World War One veteran and coal miner, takes dramatic steps to lead a miners’ revolt with a band of fellow veterans, Doc Moo risks his life and career to treat sick and wounded miners, while Frank’s grandmother, Beulah, fights her own battle to save her home and grandson. Real-life historical figures burn bright among the hills: the fiery Mother Jones, an Irish-born labor organizer once known as “The Most Dangerous Woman in America,” struggles to maintain the ear of the miners (“her boys”) amid the tide of rebellion, while the sharp-shooting police chief “Smilin” Sid Hatfield dares to stand up to the “gun thugs” of the coal companies, becoming a folk hero of the mine wars.
Award-winning novelist Taylor Brown brings to life one of the most compelling events in 20th century American history, reminding us of the hard-won origins of today’s unions. Rednecks is a propulsive, character-driven tale that’s both a century old and blisteringly contemporary: a story of unexpected friendship, heroism in the face of injustice, and the power of love and community against all odds.
First Line:
Doc Moo was up at the coal camp above town, checking on an elderly patient of his, when the Baldwins came rattling up the road in a pair of tin lizzies, their rifles and shotguns prickling from the windows, like hackles and spines.
Important details about Rednecks
Pace: Medium
POV: 3rd person (numerous characters)
Content/Trigger Guidance: Rednecks contains themes that include bullying, classism, homelessness, poverty, racism, terrorism, alcohol consumption, blood, gore, body horror, dead bodies, body parts, decapitation, dismemberment, loss of limb, medical treatment, medical procedures, mutilation, physical injuries, scars, death, grief, explosions, fire, arson, gun violence, murder, physical assault, police brutality, police violence, torture, mass murder, war themes, and military violence. Please read carefully if any of these triggers you.
Language:Rednecks contain moderate swearing and language that might offend some people.
Sexual Content: There is nongraphic sexual content in Rednecks.
Setting: Rednecks is set around Blair Mountain, West Virginia.
My Review:
The storyline of Rednecks is centered around a conflict called the West Virginia Miner Wars (1920-1921). These wars were the most significant armed conflict on American soil since the Civil War, but little is known about it because politicians and coal mining executives covered it up. I will warn you: this book is bloody, violent, and is not an easy read. But people need to read because this is a part of American history.
Another thing that I liked about this book was how the author incorporated actual events and people into the timeline. Everyone (and every event) in this book is real, except for Dr. Muhanna (Doc Moo), a Lebanese-American doctor based on the author’s great-grandfather. It made the book stand out more to me.
I do want to explain the book’s title. The miners wore red kerchiefs tied around their necks, identifying them to the police and army they were fighting against. The police and army started using this as a derogatory statement, and it has stuck to this day.
I was irritated by the end of the book. I thought people would have been up in arms over what happened (a year of war in Appalachia). But instead, people who were sympathetic to the coal miners (mainly politicians) started denouncing everything that happened. And the reason the coal miners went on strike (working conditions and wanting shorter days) was forgotten.
Many thanks to St. Martin’s Press, NetGalley, and Taylor Brown for allowing me to read and review this ARC of Summers at the Saint. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
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In this stirring, tender-hearted debut about ambition and inheritance, a family grapples with how much of their lineage they’re willing to unearth in order to participate in the nation’s first federal reparations program.
Every American waits with bated breath to see whether or not the country’s first female president will pass the Forgiveness Act. The bill would allow Black families to claim up to $175,000 if they can prove they are the descendants of slaves and for ambitious single mother Willie Revel the bill could be a long-awaited form of redemption. A decade ago, Willie gave up her burgeoning journalism career to help run her father’s struggling construction company in Philadelphia and she has reluctantly put family first without being able to forget who she might have become. Now, she’s back living with her parents and her young daughter while trying to keep her family from going into bankruptcy. Could the Forgiveness Act uncover her forgotten roots while also helping save their beloved home and her father’s life work?
In order to qualify, she must first prove that the Revels are descended from slaves, but the rest of the family isn’t as eager to dig up the past. Her mother is adopted; her father doesn’t trust the government and believes working with a morally corrupt employer is the better way to save their business; and her daughter is just trying to make it through the fifth grade at her elite private school without attracting unwanted attention. It’s up to Willie to verify their ancestry and save her family—but as she delves into their history, Willie begins to learn just how complicated family and forgiveness can be.
With powerful insight and moving prose, Acts of Forgiveness asks how history shapes who we become and to consider the weight of success when it is achieved despite incredible odds—and ultimately what leaving behind a legacy truly means.
First Line:
Marcus Revel was willing to trade the illusion of his sanity to keep his home.
Acts of Forgiveness by Maura Cheeks
Important things you need to know about Acts of Forgiveness:
Pace: Medium
POV:3rd person (Willie and Paloma).
Trigger Warnings: Acts of Forgiveness contains racism, medical content, classism, alcoholism, infidelity, rape, slavery,abandonment, and violence. If any of these trigger you, I suggest not reading the book.
Language: There is moderate swearing in Acts of Forgiveness. There is also language used that might offend some people.
Setting:Acts of Forgiveness is set in Philadelphia and New York City. A few chapters are set in Mississippi when Willie researches her family’s past.
Plot Synopsis (as spoiler-free as I can get):
Struggling to keep her family’s business afloat and to keep her father from doing business with a morally corrupt company, Willie Revel is looking for a miracle. And she might have found it with the Forgiveness Act. This bill will allow African American families, who can prove they are descended from enslaved people, to claim up to $175,000 per household. Willie could use that money to keep the business from going under. Using the skills she honed in journalism college, Willie starts researching her history.
Meanwhile, her daughter, Paloma, struggles to stay under the radar at her elite private school. As one of the only AfricanAmerican children there, she is singled out by students and teachers alike. Can Willie trace her heritage back to slavery? Can Paloma keep herself under the radar? Will the backlash from the Forgiveness Act die down?
My review:
Acts of Forgiveness was one of the most challenging books I have read this year. I wasn’t surprised by what I read; I had expected the content from the blurb. But it still packed a punch. I found myself tearing up in parts and, in other parts, being unbelievably angry over what Willie found out and what she had to endure growing up. The casual racism shown throughout the book sickened me, but it was true. People still act like this (especially in the South, where I live).
Acts of Forgiveness’s main storyline centers around Willie, Paloma, and the Forgiveness Act. Willie wasn’t likable, but I stress she was shaped that way. The shaping began when her parents moved into an all-white neighborhood. So, I didn’t let her grouchiness get to me or affect my enjoyment of the book. On the other hand, Paloma was the sweetest thing. Reading what happened with the Forgiveness Act and its backlash from a child’s POV was interesting.
The main storyline itself was well-written. It was jumpy (going from past to present), but considering how unstable everything was, it fit in with the book. The backlash to the Forgiveness Act was what I expected, unfortunately. It was something I could see happening in real-time (not that the bill would be passed with the current people serving in both the Senate and the House).
Willie’s backstory and her search into her family’s background were a considerable part of the main storyline. The author detailed Willie’s life from when her family moved into that neighborhood to today. Willie did spend most of the book pining for what she once had. But, her research into her history and what she learned about her roots made her rethink how she lived her life. The Willie at the end of the book is different from Willie at the beginning of the book. It showed how much she grew throughout the book.
Several secondary storylines were exciting, and they did bolster the main storyline. I was happy to see Paloma finally getting the praise she deserved and needed (that play was terrific). I was also pleased that Willie came to terms with several things in her life.
Secondary characters also added to the storyline and strengthened it. All of Willie’s family (her mother, brother, and father), her best friend, her mentor, and even Paloma’s father added depth.
I loved the end of Acts of Forgiveness. I won’t get too much into it, but it was what Willie and Paloma deserved. I was happy that Paloma grew up to do what she loved. I also liked that Willie finally got some peace with everything.
Many thanks to Random House Publishing Group – Ballantine, Ballantine Books, NetGalley, and Maura Cheeks for allowing me to read and review this ARC of Acts of Forgiveness. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
If you enjoy reading books similar to Acts of Forgiveness, then you will enjoy these books:
In present-day Greece, deep in an ancient forest, lives a family: Irini, a musician, who teaches children to read and play music; her husband, Tasso, who paints pictures of the forest, his greatest muse; and Chara, their young daughter, whose name means joy. On the fateful day that will forever alter the trajectory of their lives, flames chase fleeing birds across the sky. The wildfire that will consume their home, and their lives as they know it, races toward them.
Months later, as the village tries to rebuild, Irini stumbles upon the man who started the fire, a land speculator who had intended only a small, controlled burn to clear forestland to build on but instead ignited a catastrophe. He is dying, although the cause is unclear, and in her anger at all he took from them, Irini makes a split-second decision that will haunt her.
As the local police investigate the suspicious death, Tasso mourns his father, who has not been seen since before the fire. Tasso’s hands were burnt in the flames, leaving him unable to paint, and he struggles to cope with the overwhelming loss of his artistic voice and his beloved forest. Only his young daughter, who wants to repair the damage that’s been done, gives him hope for the future.
Gorgeously written, sweeping in scope and intimate in tone, The Book of Fire is a masterful work about the search for meaning in the wake of tragedy, as well as the universal ties that bind people together, and to the land that they call home.
First Line
This morning, I met the man who started the fire.
The Book of Fire by Christy Lefteri
Important things you need to know about the book:
Pace:The Book of Fire had a medium-slow pace.
POV:The Book of Fire is told through Irini’s 1st person POV. The fire section of the book is told in 2nd person (it is told as a story and is broken up throughout the book).
Trigger/Content Warning:The Book of Fire has trigger and content warnings. If any of these triggers you, I suggest not reading the book. They are:
Fire/Fire Injury
Death
Suicide (not the actual act but after it happened. There is also a scene where someone recounts encouraging someone to kill themself by handing them a rope)
Grief
Death of a parent
Injury/Injury Detail
Xenophobia
War (was told as part of Irini and Tasso’s story; it was Irini’s great-grandfather recounting a war he had lived through as a child)
Depression
Anxiety/Anxiety Disorders
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Body Horror
Hospitalization
Medical Treatment & Procedures
Scars
Death from Exposure
Animal Injury
Sexual Content: There is no sexual content in The Book of Fire.
Language: There is mild to moderate swearing in The Book of Fire. There is also language used that might offend some people.
Setting:The Book of Fire is set in Greece.
Age Range: I recommend The Book of Fire to anyone over 21.
Plot Synopsis (as spoiler-free as I can get):
Irini and Tasso are living their dream in Greece. Tasso is a talented artist, and Irini is a music teacher. They live in an ancient forest with their daughter. The dream was shattered when a forest fire decimated their village and the forest their house bordered. Now, Irini is struggling with the aftereffects of the fire. So, when she finds the man responsible for so much death and destruction by an old tree, she walks away. While the police investigate, Irini must summon the inner strength and courage to get her life back on track. And that means coming to terms with what happened and trying to forgive the man who started the fire and destroyed her life. Can she do it?
Main Characters:
The main character in The Book of Fire is Irini. The book is told from her POV. Her actions (or inactions) in this book have far-reaching implications. Her character growth consisted of her growing past her anger at the man who started the fire and starting down the path to forgiveness.
My review:
This is the first book I have read by Christy Lefteri, and I can confidently say it won’t be my last. After I finished TheBook of Fire, I added all her books to my TBR on Goodreads.
The Book of Fire’s storyline centers around Irini, her family, their healing (emotional and physical) from the fire, and Irini’s book that she wrote called….The Book of Fire (which recounts the fire and the days after). The storyline was well-written, and I could connect emotionally to the characters. More than once, I broke down into tears because of what happened and what Irini was going through in the book.
What got me the most was The Book of Fire segments. I was horrified by what Irini, Chara, and Rosalie (the dog) went through and how close to death they all came. Chara’s injury was horrific. I also admired Irini’s outward calmness. If she hadn’t been calm and given into the turmoil in her mind (over her husband and father-in-law), I think the outcome would have been different.
This book gave what I thought was a realistic look into the trauma after an event like that. Irini and her family didn’t get off scot-free and only had a house burnt down. No, Tasso’s career as an artist was threatened by the severe burns to his fingers. And Chara’s burn on her back was horrific (as I stated above). Tasso’s father is presumed dead, one of the hundred killed when the fire ripped through the village. The trauma ran deep in this book, and there were times that I wondered if they would be able to start the healing process.
When Irini found the man who started the fire, she went through his belongings and walked away. She did feel guilty and called the police, but still. The path to forgiveness and understanding it was a tragic accident was laid during her interviews with the police. But, there is a twist in this storyline that, even though I saw it coming, still surprised and unnerved me.
The end of The Book of Fire signified hope for me. I won’t go into it because of spoilers, but I did like how the author got Irini to that point. I believe the start was the healing of the jackal pup, and it just went from there.
Many thanks to Random House Publishing Group – Ballantine, Ballantine Books, NetGalley, and Christy Lefteri for allowing me to read and review this ARC of The Book of Fire. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
If you enjoy reading books similar to The Book of Fire, then you will enjoy these books:
This powerful and moving novel from the New York Times bestselling author of A Long Petal of the Sea weaves together past and present, tracing the ripple effects of war and immigration on one child in Europe in 1938 and another in the United States in 2019.
Vienna, 1938. Samuel Adler was six years old when his father disappeared during Kristallnacht—the night their family lost everything. Samuel’s mother secured a spot for him on the last Kindertransport train out of Nazi-occupied Austria to the United Kingdom, which he boarded alone, carrying nothing but a change of clothes and his violin.
Arizona, 2019. Eight decades later, Anita Diaz, a blind seven-year-old girl, and her mother board another train, fleeing looming danger in El Salvador and seeking refuge in the United States. However, their arrival coincides with the new family separation policy, and Anita finds herself alone at a camp in Nogales. She escapes through her trips to Azabahar, a magical world of the imagination she created with her sister back home.
Anita’s case is assigned to Selena Duran, a young social worker who enlists the help of a promising lawyer from one of San Francisco’s top law firms. Together they discover that Anita has another family member in the United States: Leticia Cordero, who is employed at the home of now eighty-six-year-old Samuel Adler, linking these two lives.
Spanning time and place, The Wind Knows My Name is both a testament to the sacrifices that parents make and a love letter to the children who survive the most unfathomable dangers—and never stop dreaming.
First Line:
A sense of misfortune hung in the air. From the early morning hours, a menacing breeze had swept through the streets, whistling between the buildings, forcing its way in through the cracks under doors and windows.
The Wind Knows My Name by Isabel Allende
Samuel was six years old when his father, a doctor, disappeared during Vienna’s infamous Kristallnacht. Saved by a veteran neighbor, Samuel’s mother secured passage for him on the Kinderstransport, a train taking Jewish children out of Nazi-occupied Austria. Samuel was delivered to England and, after being bounced between a couple of foster homes, was adopted by a Quaker couple. Eighty years later, Anna Diaz, a blind seven-year-old, was captured with her mother trying to cross the border into the United States illegally. She is separated from her mother and put into a detainment camp for unaccompanied minors. Her way of dealing with the trauma of being separated from her mother and the horrors of abusive foster homes is to escape to an imaginary place called Azabahar. Samuel and Anna’s paths cross when a social worker and lawyer do pro-bono work and find that Anna has a relative in the San Fransisco area. That relative is Samuel’s housekeeper, and she has been living with Samuel since Covid shut the country down. While Anna gets settled with Samuel and Leticia, the lawyer and the social worker continue their search for Anna’s mother. Will Anna and her mother be reunited?
What attracted me to The Wind Knows My Name was the cover. That is why I wished for it to begin with. What also attracted me to this book was the plotline (which I did try to summarize in the paragraph above). I usually don’t read books that closely follow recent (think within the last 3-4 years) events but something about this book and how the blurb was written made me want to read it. I am glad I did because this book was a great read.
There are numerous trigger warnings in The Wind Knows My Name. I won’t lie and say they weren’t graphic; some triggers were. But, and I stress this, the ones that involved children, the author only did the bare bones. She explained enough for me to get the gist of what was happening and then left it. The triggers are:
Confinement (non-graphic, on page):Anna was confined to a center where the border patrol agents took unaccompanied minors after they were captured crossing the border. Samuel and Leticia were limited to the house during the pandemic.
Death (mostlynon-graphic, on page): Death was a running theme throughout the book.
Genocide (slightly graphic, on page): Samuel escaped Nazi Austria and discovers his mother and father died in concentration camps. Leticia and her father, by pure luck, escape their village in El Salvador, being decimated by rebels.
Racism (graphic, on page):Samuel and Anna experience racism during the book.
Sexual Violence (non-graphic, on page): Both Anna and her mother experience sexual violence towards them during the book.
Xenophobia (mostly non-graphic, on page): Anna and her mother experience xenophobia while trying to cross the border. Anna experiences it while living in foster homes. Leticia experienced it growing up in the United States.
Trafficking (mentioned, off-page): One of the villains worked for a human trafficker.
Grief (graphic, on page):Samuel experiences grief over his parents’ deaths and when he is forced to leave his mother. He also grieves over his wife’s death. Anna mourns the death of her sister, her mother leaving, and leaving her grandmother in El Salvador. Leticia grieves the death of her mother, siblings, and grandmother. Leticia’s father grieves for his lost family.
Death of parent (s) (non-graphic, on page):Samuel’s mother and father were killed in concentration camps. Anna’s father was killed when she was very young. Leticia’s mother, grandmother, and siblings were killed.
Forced Abandonment (graphic, on page): Samuels’ mother sent him away to England. Anna’s mother was forced to leave Anna at the detention center.
Deportation (graphic, on page): There are several scenes where immigrants were forcibly deported. Anna’s mother was deported to Mexico without her.
War (semi-graphic, on page):Samuel survived World War II. Leticia’s village was decimated during a civil war in El Salvador.
Child Abuse (semi-graphic, on page):Anna is forced to do her foster mother’s chores. She was verbally abused when she wet the bed. In one scene, she was locked in a closet for hours, only to be taken out by her social worker. A foster father attempted to abuse Anna sexually.
Child Death (nongraphic, off-page): Anna’s younger sister was killed in an accident that caused Anna to go blind.
Pedophilia (semi-graphic, on and off page):Anna and her mother were chased by a man who wanted to molest Anna. He had forced Anna to touch him once. Anna’s foster father attempted to molest her.
Stalking (non-graphic and off page): A corrupt ex-police officer stalked Anna and her mother in El Salvador. He stalked them to the United States border.
If any of these trigger you, I suggest not reading the book.
There are four plotlines in The Wind Knows My Name. When I figured that out, I was a little wary. In my experience, books with more than one plotline confuse the everliving out of me. I am happy to say that this book did not. The author marked the chapters, stating whose plotline it was and, in some cases, where in time that person was.
The first plotline centered around Samuel. It starts when he is six, and his world implodes during Kristallnacht. The plotline isn’t linear; it does jump around from past to present quite a bit. But, and I stress this, I was not confused or couldn’t figure out where in time it was. Samuel’s singular plotline ends when Leticia and then Anna move in.
The second plotline centers around Leticia. Now, this was a linear plotline, and it follows Leticia from a young girl recovering from ulcer surgery to her growing up in the United States. It details her rebellious youth and how that shaped her into the woman she grew into. Her singular storyline ends when she moves in with Samuel.
The third plotline centers around Selina and Frank. This plotline starts in the middle of the book. But it goes into Selina’s immigrant background and Frank’s white privilege background. This storyline intermingles with Samuel, Leticia, and Anna throughout the book.
The fourth storyline centers around Anna. This is a linear storyline and is told through Anna’s POV. Anna’s storyline details her horrific journey to the United States border and her horrible experiences in foster care/detention. I do want to note that her storyline is also in 2nd person. She is talking to her dead sister through her doll, and it is freaking heartbreaking.
Several secondary storylines flow throughout the book. The main secondary storyline was about Anna’s mother and where she could be. I was heartbroken by the way it ended. I did expect it to end the way it did, but at the same time, I was hoping it wouldn’t.
The characters in The Wind Knows My Name was well-written and well-fleshed out. Even the secondary characters had depth to them. The characters, along with the storyline, made this book.
When I realized that this book would take place during the pandemic (and I realized it fairly early in the book), I did almost DNF it. I did not want to read about the pandemic because I lived it. But the pandemic took a backseat to Anna’s story. But Anna’s storyline was so compelling that I chose to overlook that. I am glad that I did because this book was fantastic.
Immigration was a massive point in this book. The author didn’t sugarcoat what the border was like in 2019/2020 or how overwhelmed the agents were. Instead, she gave a good look into the chaos. And when Covid hit, the chaos just grew. There were some references to the political atmosphere during that time, and you know what? I agreed with what the author wrote. I never agreed with separating families; the author’s details were chilling when she wrote about that.
I liked Samuel, but he did not have it easy in life. I thought his being raised by Quakers was fascinating and wished that more detail had gone into his life with them. His traumatic past was why he was so attracted to Nadine and kept returning to her. Their relationship was exciting and different. The author could have written a whole book could have been written about that alone. Samuel, later on in life, was a better person than when he was younger. He was willing to do whatever it took to help Anna overcome her traumatic past. He was a gem, and I enjoyed his character.
I only got to know Leticia once the author explored her background. It was then that I started to understand her. She was like Anna in a way. She had lost her entire family in a rebel attack that wiped out her village, and she crossed the border illegally (with her father). Her reaction to being Anna’s only relative in America was spot on. But she had a big heart and couldn’t let that little girl stay in foster care. She was one of my favorite people in this book.
I loved Anna and was so mad for her throughout the book. Time and time again, she was let down by the adults in her life. I wanted to reach through the book, hug her, and tell her it would be alright. By the time she arrived at Leticia and Samuel’s house, she wasn’t the same girl she was at the beginning of the book. But, her time with Leticia and Samuel did heal her. She acted like a normal child instead of the withdrawn fearful child she was when she arrived.
The end of The Wind Knows My Name didn’t shock me. I figured it would end the way it did. I did like that Anna got her HEA, though. She deserved it after everything she had been through.
I recommend The Wind Knows My Name to anyone over 21. There is language, violence, and mild sexual situations. Also, see my trigger warning list.
Many thanks to Random House Publishing Group – Ballantine, Ballantine Books, NetGalley, and Isabel Allende for allowing me to read and review The Wind Knows My Name. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
If you enjoyed reading this review of The Wind Knows My Name, then you will enjoy reading these books:
One book. Nine readers. Ten changed lives. New York Times bestselling author Erica Bauermeister’s No Two Persons is “a gloriously original celebration of fiction, and the ways it deepens our lives.”
That was the beauty of books, wasn’t it? They took you places you didn’t know you needed to go…
Alice has always wanted to be a writer. Her talent is innate, but her stories remain safe and detached, until a devastating event breaks her heart open, and she creates a stunning debut novel. Her words, in turn, find their way to readers, from a teenager hiding her homelessness, to a free diver pushing himself beyond endurance, an artist furious at the world around her, a bookseller in search of love, a widower rent by grief. Each one is drawn into Alice’s novel; each one discovers something different that alters their perspective, and presents new pathways forward for their lives.
Together, their stories reveal how books can affect us in the most beautiful and unexpected of ways—and how we are all more closely connected to one another than we might think.
First Line:
The story on Alice’s computer screen had been finding its way into words for more than five years, or maybe forever.
No Two Persons (The Writer) by Erica Bauermeister
No Two Persons is a story about how one book can change someone’s life. It follows the lives of Alice, the author, and nine people who read her book, Theo. It details how Theo changed or helped change each person’s life (for better or worse). An emotional read, No Two Persons will get under your skin and make you wonder: How many lives will this book affect?
The plotline for No Two Persons initially follows Alice, the author of Theo. It explains her background (distant parents, death of an older brother from an overdose) and how she wanted to write but felt she couldn’t. It wasn’t until college, and an observant professor, that Alice finally throws off her parents’ expectations and writes Theo. After that, the plotline goes from prepublication (when Alice was searching for a publisher) to her ARC reader to her readers and then back in a circle to the publisher.
I won’t lie and say I wasn’t affected by this book because I was. I found a connection with every single character. The ones that stood out to me the most were the new mother (who worked for the publisher), the free driver, and the homeless teenager. I could see a bit of myself in each of those characters.
I liked that the book did interconnect the stories. I didn’t realize, at first, that they were interconnected until almost the end of the book. Then I briefly reread, and a lightbulb went over my head. This book also went full circle. It started and ended with Alice.
I would recommend No Two Persons to anyone over 21. There is language, mild violence, and sexual situations.
Many thanks to St. Martin’s Press, NetGalley, and Erica Bauermeister for allowing me to read and review No Two Persons. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
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Mikki Brammer’s The Collected Regrets of Clover is a big-hearted and life-affirming debut about a death doula who, in caring for others at the end of their life, has forgotten how to live her own, for readers of The Midnight Library.
What’s the point of giving someone a beautiful death if you can’t give yourself a beautiful life?
From the day she watched her kindergarten teacher drop dead during a dramatic telling of Peter Rabbit, Clover Brooks has felt a stronger connection with the dying than she has with the living. After the beloved grandfather who raised her dies alone while she is traveling, Clover becomes a death doula in New York City, dedicating her life to ushering people peacefully through their end-of-life process.
Clover spends so much time with the dying that she has no life of her own, until the final wishes of a feisty old woman send Clover on a trip across the country to uncover a forgotten love story––and perhaps, her own happy ending. As she finds herself struggling to navigate the uncharted roads of romance and friendship, Clover is forced to examine what she really wants, and whether she’ll have the courage to go after it.
Probing, clever, and hopeful, The Collected Regrets of Clover turns the normally taboo subject of death into a reason to celebrate life.
First Line:
The first time I watched someone die, I was five.
The Collected Regrets of Clover by Mikki Brammer
Since her kindergarten teacher died when she was five, Clover has been fascinated with death. That fascination leads her to get a master’s degree in thanatology and then to her career as one of the only death doulas in New York City. Besides her dog, two cats, and her elderly neighbor, Leo, Clover is alone. But a chance meeting with an enigmatic man turns into a job preparing his grandmother for death makes Clover realize that there is more to life than death. With the help of a new friend and her client, Clover starts navigating the often tricky road of romance and friendship. Will Clover be able to open up to people finally? And will she have the courage to go after what she wants?
So, I will admit this; I hadn’t planned on accepting the invite for this book. I would decline it after reading the email and continuing with my life. But I wasn’t paying attention (I had a couple of emails in a row from the publisher), and I accepted it before I realized what I was doing. Since I got the invite at some point in 2022 (I amnot going to look, and yes, I am lazy), I put off reading The Collected Regrets of Clover. When I saw that it was coming up on my reading schedule, I was going to put it off again and decided that enough was enough, and I would read it. Well, I am glad that I did. This book was great; I regret putting it off for so long.
The Collected Regrets of Clover’s storyline centers around Clover and her gradual realization that there is more to life than focusing on death. I have never heard of a death doula or even getting a master’s degree in thanatology before this book. I did some research after reading this book and both subjects fascinate me. But I am not here to discuss how fascinated I am by this subject. We are here to talk about the storyline. So back to the subject.
I thought The Collected Regrets of Clover’s storyline was well written and kept my attention on the book. The book does split into two storylines for a while. One storyline details Clover’s early life up to when her grandfather dies. The other is the present day which shows how lonely Clover is. The author was able to merge both storylines later in the book. Usually, I wouldn’t have liked the dual storylines, but in this case, it worked. I got to see how Clover was shaped into who she was, and I got to see how she was dealing in the present day.
For a book about death and dying, I didn’t feel that the focus was solely on that. The author did a great job keeping Clover’s issues (and her awkwardness) front and center while she tended to her client. Never, at any point in the book, did I get the feeling that this book was morbid. I thought it was a beautiful homage to dying.
I liked Clover, and I did form a connection with her. I was slightly amazed that she never had a relationship with anyone her age (which I put between 35-39). There was a point in the book where I did get an asexual vibe from her (which was fine with me), but then the author did a 180 with that. I was also amazed by how naive she was. There was only one thing that weirded me out: she constantly spied on her across-the-street neighbors. But it was explained, and she did use their relationship as a comparison. But still, it was weird.
The end of the book was thoughtful. I liked how the author wrapped up the storylines. It was respectful and very touching. I also loved seeing Clover’s growth. The Clover at the beginning of the book would have never been able to do what the Clover at the end of the book did.
I would recommend The Collected Regrets of Clover to anyone over 21. There are nongraphic sexual situations, mild violence, and language.
Many thanks to St. Martin’s Press, NetGalley, and Mikki Brammer for allowing me to read and review TheCollected Regrets of Clover. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
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Longing for independence, a young sheltered Kenyan woman flees the expectations of her mother for a life in New York City that challenges all her beliefs about race, love, and family.
“Lucky Girl is at times tender, at times funny, at times uncomfortably frank. . . . A fresh look at racism, privilege, and the challenges of coming-of-age and falling in love between two cultures.”–Charmaine Wilkerson, New York Times bestselling author of Black Cake
Soila is a lucky girl by anyone’s estimation. Raised by her stern, conservative mother and a chorus of aunts, she has lived a protected life in Nairobi. Soila is headstrong and outspoken, and she chafes against her mother’s strict rules. After a harrowing assault by a trusted family friend, she flees to New York for college, vowing never to return home.
New York in the 1990s is not what Soila imagined it would be. Instead of finding a golden land of opportunity, Soila is shocked by the entitlement of her wealthy American classmates and the poverty she sees in the streets. She befriends a Black American girl at school and witnesses the insidious racism her friend endures, forcing Soila to begin to acknowledge the legacy of slavery and the blind spots afforded by her Kenyan upbringing. When she falls in love with a free-spirited artist, a man her mother would never approve of, she must decide whether to honor her Kenyan identity and what she owes to her family, or to follow her heart and forge a life of her own design.
Lucky Girl is a fierce and tender debut about the lives and loves we choose–what it meant to be an African immigrant in America at the turn of the millennium, and how a young woman finds a place for herself in the world.
First Line:
Every morning throughout my childhood, at five forty-five A.M., Mother knocked on my bedroom door. I climbed off my bed, knelt, and kissed the floor. “Serviam. I will serve.”
Lucky Girl by Irene Muchemi-Ndiritu
Solia was raised by her stern and conservative mother, grandmother, and aunts after her father died in 1980sKenya. Chafing against her mother’s restrictions, Solia finally was able to wear her down to attend college in New York City. After an assault by a family friend, Solia vowed never to return to Kenya. America, to her, was the land of opportunity, and she was determined to make it. But, after making friends with an African American girl on campus, Solia slowly realizes that America isn’t as wonderful as she thought. The legacy of slavery and racism in America is apparent every time she goes to a store or hears stories from her friends about how they were treated by the police or other citizens of the country. Her Kenyan upbringing made her blind to slavery and how brown/black people in America are treated. Then she falls in love with an artist, and Solia needs to make choices. Does she honor the wishes of her mother? Does she embrace her Kenyan background? Or does she continue to live in America and make her way? Is there a way to do all three?
Like most books I see floating around the blogosphere, Lucky Girl caught my attention when I saw a couple of reviews. I liked what I read and immediately added it as want to read on Goodreads (gotta love Goodreadsshelves). I didn’t think I would read this book until Random House had it up as a wish on NetGalley. I hit that button and promptly forgot about it (because that’s how I am). So, imagine my surprise when I got the email that the publisher granted my wish. I am glad I got my wish granted because this book was great to read. It lived up to the reviews I read.
There are triggers in Lucky Girl. They are:
Racism: Racism is a big part of this book. Solia never experienced racism while living in Kenya. She lived in an insulated bubble. She came across as a little ignorant during discussions about race with her friends. I liked how her friends gently (and in one very memorable scene, not so gently) explained racism in America.
Suicide: Solia’s father committed suicide before the book started. Solia was kept in the dark by it until she was ten years old when her mother told her about that day. It was very graphic for a ten-year-old. It was graphic for me to read, and I am almost 46!!
Spousal Abuse:Solia’s grandmother was beaten by her grandfather daily. The abuse happened off-page and was nongraphic when Solia recounted it.
Child Abuse:Solia was verbally, emotionally, and mentally abused by her mother throughout the book.
Miscarriages:Solia’s grandmother miscarried several times due to being beaten. Nothing was graphic; it was stated as a fact.
Maiming after a bombing:Solia’s favorite aunt (Tanei) was horrifically burned in maimed in the Nairobi embassy bombing in 1998.
Sexual Assault: Solia is sexually assaulted by a priest. The priest, a close family friend, tells Solia he could sway her mother to let Solia attend college in America if she did one thing. He then assaulted her with his fingers.
Abortion: Solia gets an abortion in the late 1990s/early 2000s. The author doesn’t go into the procedure itself, but she does explore the feelings Solia experienced before, during, and after.
Grief:Solia experiences grief several times during the book.
PTSD:Solia experiences PTSD after being in one of the Twin Towers during 9-11.
Early-on set Alzehimers:Solia’s mother develops early onset Alzehimers disease towards the end of the book. It is graphic with how confused she was and how Solia struggled with the decision to take care of her.
If any of these trigger you, I recommend not reading the book.
Lucky Girl was a wonderfully written book that took critical issues in America and showed them through another set of eyes. Solia was a naive Kenyan who lived in an insulated bubble at home. When she arrived in America, she realized how insulated she was. Reading about Solia’s journey as she discovered herself was terrific. Her journey wasn’t easy and, at times, was full of pain and self-doubt. But Solia learned essential life lessons from each challenge she overcame.
There is so much about this book that I could focus on, but I will talk about two points that stood out to me the most. Solia’s naivety to racism and her job on Wall Street. I knew she would be in for a rude awakening when she arrived in America. But I wasn’t expecting her to almost look down on African Americans or think less about their plight in this country. It was hard to read her explanations for why she felt the way she did, but it was even harder to read Letitca’s comebacks. Racism was (and still is) a huge problem in this country. I am glad that the author chose to address it in Lucky Girl.
As for her job on Wall Street, I didn’t understand it. Maybe it’s just me, but why would you want to stay in a position that made you work to the point you felt numb? And why would you stay in a job that you hated? In Solia’s case, it was because her mother expected her to. I felt awful for Solia during that part of her life. She wasn’t living; she was existing, and just existing doesn’t make you happy.
There is so much more that I could write in this review, but I would end up giving away some spoilers. So, I am going to end the review here. I will say that I wasn’t surprised with how the book ended. I was surprised by where Solia ended up and who she was with.
I would recommend Lucky Girl to anyone over 21. There are language, violence, and sexual situations. Also, see my trigger warnings.
Many thanks to Random House Publishing Group -Random House, Dial Press Trade Paperback, NetGalley, and Irene Muchemi-Ndiritu for allowing me to read and review Lucky Girl. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
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She’s an outsider desperate to belong, but the cost of entry might be her darkest secret in this intoxicating debut of literary suspense following a clique of dangerously ambitious students at the University of Edinburgh.
Edinburgh, Scotland: a moody city of labyrinthine alleyways, oppressive fog, and buried history; the ultimate destination for someone with something to hide. Perfect for Clare, then, who arrives utterly alone and yearning to reinvent herself. And what better place to conceal the dark secrets in her past than at the university in the heart of the fabled, cobblestoned Old Town?
When Clare meets Tabitha, a charismatic, beautiful, and intimidatingly rich girl from her art history class, she knows she’s destined to be friends with her and her exclusive circle: raffish Samuel; shrewd Ava; and pragmatic Imogen. Clare is immediately drawn into their libertine world of sophisticated dinner parties and summers in France. The new life she always envisioned for herself has seemingly begun.
And then Tabitha reveals a little project she’s been working on, one that she needs Clare’s help with. Even though it goes against everything Clare has tried to repent for. Even though their intimacy begins to darken into codependence. But as Clare starts to realize just what her friends are capable of, it’s already too late. Because they’ve taken the plunge. They’re so close to attaining the things they want. And there’s no going back.
What is the cost of an extraordinary life if others have to pay? Reimagining the classic themes of obsession and striving with an original and sinister edge, The Things We Do to Our Friends is a seductive thriller about the toxic battle between those who have, and those who covet–between the desire to truly belong, and the danger of being truly known.
First Line:
Three girls dance in front of him.
One of them has set up an old stereo, and tinny music blares, blocking out the sound of the cicadas that sing relentlessly at this time in the evening.
The Things We Do to Our Friends by Heather Darwent
I was intrigued when I read The Things We Do to Our Friends blurb. It called to me with one sentence: “What is the cost of an extraordinary life if others have to pay?” So, I decided to accept the publisher’s invitation. I am glad that I did because this book was a good read. It was a little fever-dreamish in some spots and frantic in others, but a good read.
The Things We Do to Our Friends is a fast past, almost frantic book that takes place mainly in Edinburgh,Scotland. There are side trips to Hull, England, and a few areas in France (Limoges and Perigueux). Those side trips help give insight into Clare and Tabitha’s backstories.
The storyline for The Things We Do to Our Friends was exciting and terrifying at the same time. Clare is at the University of Edinburgh for reasons only explained later in the book. Something horrible happened in the past, and she is desperate to put it behind her and atone for it. Unable to make friends, Clare sets her sights on a group of rich kids in her art history class: Tabitha,Imogen,Samuel, and Ava. As she integrates herself with the group, Clare is thrilled that she is finally living the life she was meant to (but never forgetting whatbrought her to Scotland, to begin with). Things start to go sideways when Clare’s past is revealed, and Tabitha decides to capitalize on it. Then, she begins to realize what her friends are capable of doing. Will Clare be able to back out? Or will Tabitha’s plans push her over the edge?
What I liked the most about this book is that the author wrote the characters (all of them) not to be likable. I am not complaining; far from it. It was a refreshing take from the usual characters. Where one is morally grey/evil, the others are squeaky clean. In this book, they were all morally grey/evil, and there was not one character that I would even put into the squeaky-clean category.
Clare—The author did a great job of writing her. She caught my attention from the beginning of the book. While I guessed what happened (there is a prologue in France that explains), I didn’t understand her involvement until almost the book’s end. I think she wanted to change, but she got caught up with Tiffany and company, and they exploited her (well, at the beginning). I also believe she was a product of her environment, and I’ll leave it at that. What she went through with her parents sickened me, and explained so much.
Tabitha—Oh, Tabitha, where do I start with you? She was so damaged that it radiated off the pages. She, too, was a product of her environment; like Clare, it wasn’t in a good way. I also think she was mentally ill towards the end of the book. The author never confirmed it, but it was always in the back of my head while reading.
The Things We Do to Our Friends fits perfectly into the mystery/thriller/suspense genre. The mystery angle was well written, and I was surprised at what was revealed. The same for the thriller and suspense. I could not put this book down!
The plotline with Clare, her secret, and how her friends used it to force her to do what they wanted was well written. As I mentioned above, I guessed what happened because of the prologue. But what was revealed was a shock and the label Clare mentioned. Looking back, there were plenty of hints leading up to it. I thought it was sick and cruel that her friends decided to use Clare’s secret to strongarm her into helping them with their scheme. I also predicted what would happen when things started to go south. But in no way was I prepared for the twist. Again, it made sense once it happened, but it still took me by surprise. It also tied into the secondary storyline with Clare as an adult. Won’t say how but I will say that it made sense to me why adult Clare kept cutting in.
Several minor storylines are absorbed into the main one at several points during the book. They add extra depth to the main storyline mainly because they explain specific events, what led to them, and the consequences.
There are trigger warnings in The Things We Do to Our Friends. They would be mental illness and child abuse. There are more that I want to add, but I can’t because of spoilers. Talk about frustrating!!! If any of these triggers you, I strongly suggest not reading this book.
The end of The Things We Do to Our Friends was anticlimactic. The author was able to wrap everything up in a way that made sense but also frustrated me.
I recommend The Things We Do to Our Friends to anyone over 21. There is nongraphic sex, language, and violence.
I want to thank Random House Publishing Group – Ballantine, Bantam, and Heather Darwent for allowing me to read and review this book. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
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After surviving a tragedy that killed her entire family, sixteen-year-old Meg joins a cloistered convent, believing it is her life’s work to pray full time for the suffering of others. Taking the name Sister Angeline, she spends her days and nights in silence, moving from one prayerful hour to the next. She prays for the hardships of others, the sick and poor, the loved ones she lost, and her own atonement.
When the Archdiocese of Chicago runs out of money to keep the convent open, she is torn from her carefully constructed life and sent to a progressive convent on a rocky island in the Pacific Northwest. There, at the Light of the Sea, five radical feminist nuns have their own vision of faithful service. They do not follow canonical law, they do not live a cloistered life, and they believe in using their voices for change.
As Sister Angeline struggles to adapt to her new home, she must navigate her grief, fears, and confusions, while being drawn into the lives of a child in crisis, an angry teen, an EMT suffering survivor’s guilt, and the parish priest who is losing his congregation to the Sisters’ all-inclusive Sunday masses. Through all of this, something seems to have awakened in her, a healing power she has not experienced in years that could be her saving grace, or her downfall.
In Angeline, novelist Anna Quinn explores the complexity of our past selves and the discovery of our present truth; the enduring imprints left by our losses, forgiveness and acceptance, and why we believe what we believe. Affecting and beautifully told, Angeline is both poignant and startling and will touch the hearts of anyone who has ever asked themselves: When your foundations crumble and you’ve lost yourself, how do you find the strength to go on? Do you follow your heart or the rules?
First Line:
Meg lies prostrate on the stone floor. Her body, a cross. Incense curls around her white gown and spirals up like tiny resurrections.
Angeline by Anna Quinn
Meg was only sixteen years old when she joined a cloistered convent. She believes she is responsible for the car accident that killed her entire family and unborn child. Her way of repenting is to join the convent and take a vow of silence, praying for other people’s suffering. Meg (or Sister Angeline) is transferred to an unconventional convent in the Pacific Northwest when her convent is closed due to a lack of funds. The nuns at that convent are quirky. They believe in the power to use their voices, aren’t cloistered, and do not follow the Catholic Church’s laws. Angeline touches lives with several people during her first months there: an abused child who is being failed by the system, an angry teenager, the teenager’s EMT father who has survivor’s guilt, and a priest who is losing his congregation to the nuns Sunday masses. Angeline also discovers a power for healing that she thought was lost. Will Angeline stay at the convent? Will she be able to heal and help everyone whose life she has touched? Will she be able to forgive herself?
Meg (or Sister Angeline) was the main character in Angeline. I wasn’t sure of her at the beginning of the book, but that was because I didn’t know her entire story. But as I read the book and got a good look at who she was, I was heartbroken for everything she had endured. I also felt that her being transferred to the convent in the Pacific Northwest was suitable for her. Being around those eccentric nuns helped her accept what happened to her. They also made her see that the world wasn’t to be shut away but to be enjoyed.
Speaking of the nuns, I loved them. They were sassy and weren’t afraid to tell people like it was. Of course, they each had their backstory, and how the author introduced those backstories was terrific. One nun had a son who was murdered by gun violence. Another was under political asylum. Another was a raging feminist who was vocal about LGBTQ/abortion rights. And two were mysteries, and I didn’t expect their backstories. It was those backstories that framed Angeline’s story.
As I detailed in the plot summary, Angeline suffered an immense loss. Her loss is an essential part of the main storyline. As was Angeline’s horror of being transferred to a convent with rebel nuns. But, like her MotherSuperior, I thought it best for her. And it was. Angeline was able to connect with so many people on the island. She even tried to help a few of them. I loved how the author wove a paranormal element into the book about halfway through and made it an essential part of the storyline. It was almost believable because of the way the author wrote it.
There are some scarier elements to Angeline. They crop up around the middle of the book and aren’t resolved until the end. Be warned, some of these elements can get a little intense (mainly with the priest).
The end of Angeline felt rushed and tacked on. While the author wrapped up all the storylines, I was left with a bad feeling. Mainly because I didn’t like how the ending was.
I recommend Angeline to anyone over 21. There is violence, some mild language, and nongraphic sexual situations.
Many thanks to Blackstone Publishing, NetGalley, and Anna Quinn for allowing me to read and review Angeline. All opinions stated in this review are mine.
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