The Literate Kitty

A Violent Masterpiece, by Jordan Harper (REVIEW) — L.A., Where Big Dreams Go Up in Smoke

2026-04-07T19:00:00.000-07:00

You might think you “know” L.A.

Kale salads, twenty-dollar smoothies, and sushi.

(Yeah... but it’s also donuts, coffee, and food trucks.)

Beautiful people everywhere, dressed like they’re headed for the Oscars.

(Most days it’s an endless sea of yoga tights, jeans, sneakers, and flip-flops–on everyone.)

The glamor of Hollywood, beachfront mansions, and compounds in the hills.

(Except only a small percentage of Angelenos have that kind of crazy money... meaning most live in ordinary places, while the unhoused try to survive along Skid Row, under every overpass, or in camps in vacant lots.)

It’s a sprawling city of extremes—from unimaginable excess to poverty, peaceful mountains to the unceasing noise of the freeways that intersect everywhere else—and always, always a powder keg, about to explode.

And in Jordan Harper’s A Violent Masterpiece, it does.

There’s only so much crime and awfulness even a city of some ten million souls can handle, and L.A. has reached its limit.

A serial killer dubbed the “L.A. Ripper” by the press is leaving a trail of brutally murdered women across the vast city.

Police arrest a popular Hollywood movie director after images surface of him sexually abusing children.

A young woman with a lucrative job has recently gone missing... and her apartment thoroughly cleaned out late one night by what looks very much like a team of professional hitmen.

And, another large encampment of unhoused people is about to be savagely dismantled... with protestors rallying to try and stop the massive police action.

It is through these seemingly-unrelated events that three Angelenos make their way into each other’s orbits... changing the courses of their lives, forever.

Former-child-actor-cum-nightcrawler Jake livestreams whatever carnage he finds each night to his lust-for-blood subscribers—most recently, all the gory details about the L.A. Ripper’s rampage.

Lawyer Doug advertises on bus-stop benches and billboards—“the guy who’ll FIGHT for YOU!”—and his regular clientele includes homeless and other disadvantaged folks... which is why he’s gobsmacked when the insanely-wealthy pedophile wants to hire him.

Kara works for a very elite, very hush-hush private concierge company—the sort hired to make the impossible possible, for the right amount of money—and it’s her friend (and mentor) who’s gone missing... while she is the only one who saw the hired “cleaners” clearing out her friend’s place.

All three have connections—for drugs, weapons, dangerous people, and, to a degree, information—but as each works to piece together the particulars of the crime he or she knows about, the tangled trails of clues lead them to one another.

None of them have any idea how deep the depravities and desolation go—though clearly, some of the most despicable atrocities are happening in the most lavish of places—but Jake, Kara, and Doug are absolutely dead-set on getting to the very bottom of everything.

Or die trying.

Every so often, I’m lucky enough to read something that stops me in my tracks, makes me pause to reread and let an idea sink in.

A Violent Masterpiece gave me so many of those moments.

Harper’s prose is beautiful in its brutality—sometimes sleek and spare, at other times gloriously lush and descriptive—and always, always, chilling in its awareness.

His is an L.A. I recognize too well... even if I shudder to do so.

He’s created a solid trio of protagonists, too—each, so believably flawed and fallible... but still, inherently good and honorable—that are easy to root for.

And a cool little touch—for Angelenos and anyone else who’s spent enough time in the city—is how each chapter not only lists the character whose POV it’ll show, but he also lists the area (or multiple areas) of the city/county where that chapter’s action will take place. Fun detail.

I know it’s a little early in the year to name “my favorite book of this year”, so I won’t do that... I’ll just say it’s definitely gonna land in my top two.

If a full-throttle, multi-layered, so-real-it-hurts crime thriller is your jam, put A Violent Masterpiece in your cart for pre-order [it’s coming out April 28], and thank me later. This one deserves every heap of praise it’s going to get.

[Thanks to Mulholland Books and Little, Brown and Company for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Jo Nesbø's Detective Hole (TV Series REVIEW) — A Brilliant Detective Battles His Inner—and Outer—Demons in Oslo

2026-03-28T22:19:00.000-07:00

A troubled cop—who battles his demons in spectacularly-destructive ways.

A host of coworkers—superiors, equals, and underlings—who unfailingly believe in him...up until the point he slips. Again.

And one coworker-slash-rival who harbors a monumental grudge.

All brought together by a murder that has some strangely-symbolic overtones. And then another... with the same symbolisms.

Meanwhile, a major controversy is brewing over whether or not the police should be armed, as Oslo faces a scary upswing in gang activity... and homicides.

And then, there’s also the question of corruption, within the force. Enough signs are pointing to it for Harry not to notice.

This is the powder keg we step into, in Jo Nesbø’s Detective Hole, on Netflix.

Anyone who’s worked with Detective Harry Hole generally has one of two opinions about him—he’s a brilliant cop, somehow able to get into a killer’s mind—including the terrifying headspace of a serial killer, or, that he can be a good cop... but also a headstrong, hard-to-handle alcoholic.

The truth is actually somewhere in the middle—or maybe, that Hole exists mainly in the extremes, the brilliant highs and the rock-bottom lows.

And this time out finds Harry initially operating at the bottom end—seeing the dregs on the bottom of way too many bottles... and trying to keep it together while on the clock.

Because there are a pair of doozies that need figuring out... and stopping.

When one horrible murder is followed a mere five days later by another, with similar patterns, Hole knows it’s something. (Not that any of the other cops want to hear that—who in their right mind would wish for a case with multiple murders?)

But Hole, being who he is—an incredibly insightful detective, when he’s “on”—stands fast in his analysis: they’re dealing with a serial killer... and the person may just be getting started.

Of course, there’s also that whole movement to arm the cops (or not), as rival gangs—with serious weaponry—battle it out on the streets... and the possibility of a rat within the police ranks gains traction.

As Hole ingloriously falls off the wagon, yet again—then struggles to get back on—everything is quickly coming to a head.

The big question is: can he keep it together long enough to find and stop whoever is murdering young women across the city... and will those same canny instincts sniff out the rot from within his team—or will he flame out yet again?

____________________________________________________________

I’ve read several other works by Nesbø, over the years (and reviewed some of them, here, here, here, and here), as well as two movies based on his works (here and here).

So, I was already quite familiar with Harry Hole—his history, his problems, and his world. It's classic Nordic Noir, and I dig it.

He’s a complicated character, and with that penchant for self-destruction, a frequently frustrating one.

But if you’ve ever known someone who was really effed up—be it an addiction, or some trauma that they couldn’t shake—then Hole will likely ring painfully true... and you’ll root for him, no matter what.

I hadn’t read the book that most of Detective Hole is based on—The Devil’s Star—which made this an even more suspenseful watch, for me.

In short, it’s a fantastic adaptation.

Tobias Santelmann is absolutely magnetic as the intense—and intensely scarred—Harry Hole, creating a character that’s more mood and barely-contained pain than typical cop machismo. (Yet whatever he does, you feel it in your gut.)

Joel Kinnaman is likewise mesmerizing as Hole’s colleague and rival, Tom Waaler. He is, by turns, sleek and sexy, and sly and scheming—and he dominates any scene he’s in.

The rest of the cast—too many to single out—are similarly impressive, each delivering a performance it would be hard to forget.

As for mood, well... Oslo. Such a gorgeous setting for such ugliness, and that sharp contrast plays out perfectly in this nine-episode series (first season? Here’s hoping...). The camera loves her, when we’re out and about, or when we visit Rakel’s house, just beyond the city proper, where Harry’s on-again, off-again life tries so hard to resemble something stable and good... but paints her grungy and desperate when we’re in Harry’s shabby apartment or under a bridge, doing deals.

Nesbø is a talented, prolific author—with many Harry Hole books under his belt—so if this fabulously-well-done production does well, chances are we’ll be seeing more stories from Hole’s Oslo.

I’ll just be right over here, waiting...

~GlamKitty

The Insomniacs, by Allison Winn Scotch (REVIEW) — The Things That Keep Us Up at Night Cut Deep

2026-03-26T20:37:00.000-07:00

insomnia: inability to obtain sufficient sleep, especially when chronic; difficulty in falling or staying asleep; sleeplessness.

There are all sorts of reasons for insomnia.

For most people, it’s just an occasional problem. Not fun to go through—feeling cranky, tired, and muzzy-headed—but once it’s over, things tend to go back to normal.

Imagine if sleeplessness was your “normal”, though. Something that went on night after night after night... leaving you in a permanent state of absolute exhaustion, with your body—and brain—never getting the chance to rest and heal.

That’s where four strangers find themselves, in New York Times bestselling author Allison Will Scotch’s new thriller, The Insomniacs.

Sybil—a midlife stay-at-home mom, anxious and sleepless since her kids went off to college—listens to all the true-crime podcasts she can find, to cope.

Julian—a secretive widower whose health forced him into an early retirement—laments all the hours he worked, never getting to know his now-adult daughter.

Zeke—all-star pitcher for the Mets—replays in his mind the freak mid-game accident that shattered his elbow, leaving him sidelined from his team.

The three meet in a chat room on a site for insomniacs and hit it off... returning night after night to while away some of those endless sleepless hours together.

When they discover that they all live in the NYC metro area, Julian suggests they meet up for coffee and pancakes at an all-night diner.

That’s where they meet Betty—their prickly young waitress—who reveals that she, too, is an insomniac... and just like that, their little club—The Insomniacs—is born.

And, in just a couple months, each of them realizes the same thing—they’re no longer mere acquaintances... they’ve become family.

So when one of them vanishes one night, without a trace, it seems only natural that the rest of The Insomniacs will do whatever it takes to find them. (They didn’t listen to Sybil going on and on about her beloved true crime podcasts for nothing..!)

Turns out that playing detective is a lot harder than it looks or sounds, though, and even finding clues—let alone following them—proves frustrating.

But gradually, some of the pieces begin falling into place, and what they discover is... troubling.

Did their friend do something terrible in the past? Or, is nothing actually what it appears..?

Friends... and family. In the end, it really all comes down to deciding what you’ll do for them... and living with the consequences of that choice.

And these friends-cum-family? They’ll do a lot.

I absolutely loved The Insomniacs.

Scotch has created an absolutely fascinating group of characters to throw together, and made them come to vivid life on the page.

They’re imperfect (like the rest of us). They go into these new friendships with preconceived ideas... which, of course—as so often happens in real life—quickly prove wrong. But they’re also willing to learn from each other, and listen, and just... be human. (There’s a lot of dialogue that feels incredibly real, in service of that.)

The backstories are done really well, too—which is crucial, because the histories makes everyone’s actions in the present understandable and believable.

What happens—and how, and why—is a real gut-punch... but gives the entire story its momentum... and its heart.

I raced through The Insomniacs as fast as time allowed. (It’s almost sad that I wasn’t experiencing a bout of insomnia, myself, or I’d have finished it sooner. Irony, huh?)

And I loved every single page. I hope you will, too.

~Not-Sleepless-in L.A. GlamKitty 😉

[Thanks to Penguin Random House and Berkley Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The Pie & Mash Detective Agency, by J.D. Brinkworth (REVIEW) — Detective Dreams and Millennial Mishaps

2026-03-17T19:39:34.184-07:00

Millennials: The demographic cohort born between 1981 and 1996, they were the first generation to grow up with internet technology and digital literacy, and are typically described as tech-savvy, socially-connected, and civic-minded.

Also, Millennials: The Snowflake Generation (derogatory). Often used to imply members of this generation are fragile, oversensitive, and entitled.

It is the (untaught, though clearly passed-down through the ages) duty of every generation to mock the generations that follow. [Not convinced? Ask yourself if you’ve ever heard a parent, grandparent, or elderly neighbor starting a sentence with, “When I was your age,” then end it with something like, “...walked three miles in the snow, uphill, to go to school,” and you’ll likely understand.]

Anyway, all of that was firmly in the back of my mind during my read of J.D. Brinkworth’s amusing detective mystery, The Pie & Mash Detective Agency.

Thoroughly-Millennial Jane Pye and Simon Mash could be part of a Wikipedia entry depicting coupledom within their generation.

She’s sweet, shy, and studious—a no-makeup, bespectacled, knitted-by-herself cardigan-wearing young woman—and as of very recently, sadly unemployed from her back-end programming job.

He, on the other hand, is more of a hothouse flower... bolder and brasher, he’s happily-bisexual and forever scouring the internet—between constant phone calls for his “collaboration consultancy” position—for the next great fashion find.

And together, they’re a couple... marriage not remotely in their plans, but living together congenially (and saving a bundle, by sharing the rent).

When the out-of-work Jane gets a wild hare and enrolls them in a private detective class, Simon is understandably surprised... but, as an understanding boyfriend, gamely agrees to attend the sessions with her.

But what initially sounds like a neat diversion—learning the secrets of sleuthing! maybe a new side-hustle!—starts feeling like A LOT, as the instructor piles on the reading.

When he hands out assignments for the final—giving what he views as his absolute worst students an impossible case to “solve”—Jane and Simon are sure they’re in over their heads... but Jane refuses to bail on the class.

(It’s not like all those applications she’s been filling out are leading anywhere promising, after all.)

So, the case. A man just reported his girlfriend—one Nellie Thorne—going missing, but the police haven’t had any luck (or that much interest, frankly) in finding her.

The kicker? She’s far from the first “Nellie Thorne” to vanish—there’ve been at least half-a-dozen others, over the past few decades.

Jane feels for the boyfriend, who’s clearly devastated. As for Simon, well... he’s picturing how very smart they’ll look, as detectives for the just-established “Pie & Mash Detective Agency” (hey, he made business cards and everything!), clad in matching trench coats and armed with iPhones.

The problem for the (not-precisely-intrepid-but-at-least-trying) duo? Nothing in their coursework prepared them for an actual, ongoing case... with real consequences.

Yet even as they bumble about, they actually do unearth a few legit clues to pursue... which lead them to some very unexpected locations—including the current whereabouts of a totally different Nellie than the one they’ve been tasked with finding.

They may not have the life experience—nor any of the insightful, Sherlockian insights so crucial to solving fictional cases—but they do have gumption, and Jane, in particular, is positive that’s all they need.

The Pie & Mash Detective Agency was—I’m not gonna lie—sometimes as challenging for me as the whole concept of “everyone deserves a medal (trophy, award, whatever) for participating (attending, showing up, etc.)” mindset that sprang up in the twenty-first century.

In other words, Jane and Simon are... A LOT.

But honestly? It seemed like that’s how the author felt about the pair, as well, with exasperation about their helplessness and haplessness seeping through continually.

[I wasn’t sure how to take that, in truth. I’m used to authors being pro their protagonists, so this left me decidedly off-kilter.]

Don’t get me wrong, though. There’s definitely a fun little mystery afoot, here—with a clever premise (multiple missing women of the same name), interesting protagonists (a weird modern-day Tommy-&-Tuppence detective duo), and plenty of helpers (both helpful and not-remotely-so) and kooky characters—to keep me engaged.

Except... for the entire middle portion of the book, which positively dragged for me. (Would this have benefited from tighter editing—condensing a lot of thoughts and nothing much going on? Yes, absolutely.)

Still, I came around again toward the final third of the story, when everything picked up again, from the action to the addition of new characters (including Simon's mom and her living-large gal pals).

And the ending? It worked... which is essential for any mystery.

So, The Pie & Mash Detective Agency gets a thumbs up from me... with the caveats that you may need to exercise patience (these two really are snowflakes, often), and be willing to wade through a middle-third that’s sorely lacking in action or anything terribly interesting, at all. ~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Penguin Random House and Berkley Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Wolf Hour, by Jo Nesbø (REVIEW) -- When a Lone Wolf is Out for Blood

2026-02-27T13:28:00.000-08:00

We toss around the phrase “lone wolf”, often romanticizing it far more than we probably should.

The definition, of course, is right there in the words. “Lone”, as in loner... something or someone who prefers to do, well, whatever, on their own.

It’s the second part we usually glance over—“wolf”. An intelligent and savage predator, in the animal kingdom... but nearly as admirable or romantic, when applied to humankind.

In his latest thriller, Wolf Hour, bestselling Norwegian author Jo Nesbø pits a pair of lone wolves against each other... forcing the reader to look beneath the surface, to find the humanity and reason in scenes of savagery.

In 2016, Minneapolis, Minnesota has more than its share of serious crime... including the case of a gun dealer, seriously wounded—though not killed—by a shot from above.

No one saw—or knows—anything, but the police eventually settle on a former gang member, Tomas Gomez, as the probable sniper wanna-be.

Gomez is nowhere to be found... and more shootings with the same basic M.O. soon follow. This time, though, dead bodies are left behind.

The city officially has a new serial killer, and the police set up a major task force with different branches across the Twin Cities to help quell public fear and outrage.

Unexpectedly, though, it’s Bob Oz—a depressed, hard-drinking, womanizing middle-aged police detective, currently suspended from duty—who is actually closest to figuring out how to get a handle on Gomez. The killer’s motivations... who he’ll target next... and most importantly, how to track him down.

Bob’s problem is getting anyone to listen to his theories... and then to act on them, before someone else dies.

But there’s a second storyline going on, as well—also in Minneapolis, some six years later.

A Norwegian crime writer, visiting the Twin Cities he’s loved since childhood, is researching the Gomez case for a book he’s writing.

As his hired driver shuttles him across the metro area—visiting each place where something, anything, happened—the writer attempts to channel Detective Oz... putting himself not only in the physical locations, but into the troubled mind of the man who’d finally put all the pieces together.

The question is what, exactly, the writer is trying to accomplish. Is he merely absorbing details to help him flesh out his writing, or does he know more than he’s letting on?

Wolf Hour is a fascinating standalone work by Nesbø, with the classic touches that make each of his stories uniquely him.

It’s smart, and keenly observant of little details about individuals, of which they are often unaware.

It’s also an achingly sad novel, full of loneliness and loss... and the many outlets—both healthy and horrifically unhealthy—such feelings can take.

And of course, it’s far more complex than anyone initially thinks.

I enjoyed Wolf Hour, but have one caveat: patience is a virtue, here, as the pacing is rather leisurely. There’s a fair amount of exposition between things actually happening, which can be a bit wearing on the reader.

Definitely recommending it to fellow fans of dark, Scandi-noir crime, though... and to suspense lovers who enjoy waiting for the lone wolf’s next lonely howl in the nights.

~GlamKitty

I'm Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home, by Fergus Craig (REVIEW) -- A Darkly-Comic Seniors' Home Murder Mystery

2026-02-16T21:29:00.000-08:00

I’ve never been one of those people who say they can’t wait to “grow old”.

I couldn’t wait to grow up, but old? No way.

And yet, as I suspect most of my fellow Gen Xers—and probably all Boomers, out there—have gradually come to realize, doing so sure beats the alternative.

So maybe it’s time to reframe how we look at aging.

If we do our best to maintain our health, stay as fit as possible, keep our brains active, and hang onto our friends, then getting old...er... doesn’t sound like such a scary and dreadful future, right?

Not convinced? (I’m still trying to convince myself, here; this is a work in progress. 🙃)

Anyway, just do yourself a solid and pick up a copy of Fergus Craig’s delightful I’m Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home, and see if reading it doesn’t put your mind at ease a bit.

After spending too many decades in prison, just-released ex-serial killer Carol feels like she’s suddenly landed in the middle of a dream, getting to live out the remainder of her “golden years” in luxury at Sheldon Oaks—the poshest-of-posh retirement homes in London.

She’s excited by the prospect of starting a new life—one where, just maybe, she can actually make some friends, and enjoy “normal” stuff.

(Not that she regrets any of the several murders she committed—erm, was convicted for, no need to talk about any as-yet-undiscovered ones—since they were clearly necessary, but still... now in her mid-70s, a less-murder-y life sounds a right treat.)

Of course, that dream promptly goes straight down the tubes, when one of her fellow residents—an ex-police-commissioner, no less—plunges from the rooftop to his untimely demise... and is, in short order, deemed not an accident.

In other words, he was murdered... and just like that, Carol’s heretofore-secret past is exposed to all and sundry.

She’s immediately hauled in for questioning.

Only problem is, Carol knows she most definitely isn’t the killer (this time)... but she’s dying to find out who is.

After the police begrudgingly release her—“not enough evidence...yet”—and another person at the retirement home is gruesomely murdered—someone whom Carol couldn’t possibly have killed (but, of course, will likely still be blamed for)—she realizes it really is up to her to figure out whodunnit.

But, unlike her years of killing all alone, she’ll finally have some help—a little crew of new-friends-turned-elderly-sleuths (each, interestingly, some variety of justice-seeking professional, when in their primes... but now, regarded merely as doddering and “old”).

At least, Carol tells herself, no one will need to be killed.

Probably...

Going back to what I said earlier, I’m Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home is an absolute delight.

It could easily have skewed cutesy-cozy—getting too caught up in old-people puns and whatnot—but it didn’t.

Instead, it combines wit and charm with... spunk. Chutzpah. A little sexy (even briefly skirting around the edges of geriatric raunchiness, if that’s a thing!).

It’s hilarious... and it also feels real. No one—no matter their infirmities or abilities—is mocked, here... yet nor do any of the characters do something it would be nigh impossible physically for them to do.

Rather, author Craig respects, understands, and enjoys his characters, allowing them to be as funny (intentionally and not-so), audacious, obnoxious, anxious, vain, shy (and every other thing each of us, at any age, can feel or be), and plays off of that.

The characters talk and act like older people, sure... but they’re not dead yet(!), nor do they act it.

Is I’m Not the Only Murderer a clever mystery? It is—I didn’t quite know where it was going, until the grand denouement. Is it laugh-out-loud funny? Absolutely. Would I love to see some of these characters again, in another book? You betcha.

[The million-dollar question: Am I the teensiest bit less scared of “growing old”? Maybe even that. (Maybe.)]

Bottom line, just put I’m Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home in your cart—physical or virtual—stat. Because no matter how young, old, or anywhere in between you are (or feel), you deserve a fun read... and this one delivers in spades on that front.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Penguin Random House and Berkley Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Atlas of Unknowable Things, by McCormick Templeman (REVIEW) -- Modern Gothic Tale of Witches & Werewolves Needs Less Words, More Bite

2025-12-12T11:14:00.000-08:00

The cut-throat, “publish-or-perish” world of academia.

Ancient manuscripts.

An historian with a secret side quest.

An ex-bestie turned bitter rival.

A tiny, elite college, nestled high in the stunning peaks of the Rocky Mountains... where winter is always coming.

These are the bones of McCormick Templeman’s gothic-leaning thriller, Atlas of Unknowable Things.

Ever since Robin Quain and her best friend, a fellow historian, fell out, it seems like nothing’s been going right.

Her beloved dog crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

Her boyfriend unceremoniously dumped her.

And, she hasn't experienced a breakthrough in her dissertation—arguing the European witch hunts were as much about getting rid of powerful women as eradicating suspected practitioners of witchcraft—leaving her PhD more pipe dream than reality.

Until, that is, she runs across a letter mentioning correspondence between Joan of Arc and the infamous French knight, Gilles de Rais, which sparks new avenues of exploration.

A pharmacological connection... how the ancient witch hysteria might play out in modern times... and other mythical creatures.

When her research unearths a witch-adjacent, recent case—a young woman horrifically mauled by what locals believe was a werewolf—in the Rocky Mountains, she feels a flicker of hope.

After stumbling on tiny, private Hildegard College—renowned for its botanical gardens and vast collection of archaic manuscripts (including, importantly, pharmacopoeias)... situated only a few miles from the attack... and welcoming to visiting academics—she hatches a plan.

Secure a residency at Hildegard to study the manuscripts by day, and search for clues about the werewolf tale after-hours.

Once Robin is actually at Hildegard, though, she discovers it isn’t what she expected.

The handful of faculty staying on over the winter break are friendly enough, but also a little... weird.

The professor whose research might’ve answered some of Robin’s questions has been missing for several months... yet none of the faculty seem particularly worried.

She’s woken by strange sounds in the middle of the night, and sees lights flickering through the forest and across the frigid lake... a lake she’s been warned is off-limits.

Also, cryptic messages keep popping up, but only Robin is receiving them.

What starts out as frustration—being thwarted at every turn—soon becomes fear, as the campus—and the dense, dark forest surrounding it, high in the snowy mountains—begin feeling more like a trap she can’t escape.

Atlas of Unknowable Things absolutely wasn't what I thought it was going to be.

First, the positives...

Templeman has crafted a dense, twisty tale, here—which sounds promising, on the surface.

It pulls from many different areas of thought; by turns delving into the occult, mythical lore, religion, and botanical knowledge... all connected, at least somewhat, by their historical significances.

Throughout, the story has strong modern-gothic undertones, maintaining a sense of dread. Uncertainty and doubt. Panic. Eventually, even the fear of going insane.

The setting for all of this was unexpected. Normally, this tale—firmly rooted in history—would take place in far-off European mountains... not the Rockies (so, kudos for the location).

Now for the not-so-goods...

My biggest quibble with Atlas of Unknowable Things is its density—there are a lot of (well-researched) scientific and mystical tidbits woven throughout. Too many, really.

There are also, as I said, a lot of Big Ideas swirling about. While I appreciate that research should begin with multiple ideas, until one can narrow the focus, it isn't exactly scintillating to read something that feels like part of that process.

Unfortunately, the combination of all those larger ideas and minute details slow things down to a snail’s pace.

[Full disclosure, I actually wound up skimming numerous passages, just so I could get back to some action. Or human interaction. Anything interesting, really.]

On the whole, Atlas is a unique tale... but only earns a qualified recommendation, from me.

If you prefer more action and dialog (and a little more focus) in your wintry reads, chances are you’d find this one a real slog.

But, if you crave a deep, dark, classic gothic tome, full of contemplation, atmospheric pauses, and silences—and are unbothered by long, intellectual deep-dives—this could be a worthy candidate for your TBR list.

~GlamKitty

Made You Look, by Tanya Grant (REVIEW) -- When Being an Influencer is Murder

2025-11-18T19:27:00.000-08:00

Jetting off for cool photoshoots in exotic places.

Being the instantly-recognizable face of high-end luxury products and fantasy experiences.

Enjoying the rush from seeing “likes” numbering in the hundreds of thousands on your last Instagram post or TikTok video.

Ah, the glamorous life of the Influencer...

Or so it’s easy to think.

But, like the old saying goes, “all that glitters is not gold”, there’s a less-shiny, less-sexy side to being a social media darling.

Tanya Grant peels back the curtain to give us a peek at what being an internet sensation is really like in her debut thriller, Made You Look.

A week-long, all-expenses-paid trip to Reverie Retreat, a posh, not-yet-open-to-the-public ecolodge nestled deep in the Catskills.

For mega-Influencer Sydney Kent—along with her little entourage of fellow influencers, stylist, photog, and publicity manager—it’s a sweet gig, posting content hyping the new retreat prior to its grand opening.

What influencer wouldn’t jump at an invitation to create magical, golden-hour vignettes against a winter-wonderland backdrop of snow-covered pine trees, rolling mountains, and crystal-clear waterfalls?

And then, get to enjoy total relaxation and privacy in individual cabins lined up along the dramatic cliff’s edge?

It’s a dream gig, no doubt... and none of the team think their efforts over the next week will be anything short of amazing.

Caitlyn, the beautiful, curvaceous foil to Sydney’s ethereal, waiflike beauty... who can only dream of someday achieving the same level of fame and adoration that Syd commands.

Muscular, movie-star handsome Jeff—aka Sydney’s boyfriend—who boasts a sizable fandom of his own.

Nash, the creative genius doubling as stylist and makeup artist for all the shoots.

Brent, the straight-arrow manager who handles most of the bookings and all of the legal and fiscal paperwork.

And Lucy, best friends with Sydney since their freshman year of college, now the official photographer for Team Sydney.

*****

For a group of twenty-somethings who’ll be spending an entire week together, things start off well enough... but that changes soon enough.

A blizzard-level snowstorm leaves the group with no Wi-Fi (no way to post content), no electricity (no heat), and no cell service (no calling for help).

When they realize they also have no food supplies, the mood plummets even further.

But, when one member winds up dead—clearly not from accidental causes—the trip that was supposed to be so perfect turns into a living nightmare.

Suddenly, no one trusts anyone... because either a murderous intruder is lurking somewhere outside, just waiting to strike again... or one of their party is a killer.

And as unbelievable as the latter sounds, if that is the case, well... what do any of them really know about anything??

While I remain utterly perplexed by the popularity of a great many Influencers, I find the whole trend a fascinating thing to observe... making Made You Look an easy must-read, for me.

Fortunately, author Grant proves herself more than up to the task of showcasing the best, worst, and everything else about those immersed in the strange new world of influencing.

Most importantly, all of the characters feel very real... like any of the older Gen Zs one might encounter on any given day, out in the wild. [I’m in L.A., so they’re pretty much legion, here.]

But to her credit, in that realness she also makes them well-rounded, with plenty of ick factor, as well as a whole bunch of relatable, more likable stuff. (There are even moments of deeply-felt pathos and sadness, which raise the emotional bar on the whole story... but I won’t spoil those, here.)

In other words, it’s easy to sorta hate any of the characters one minute, then totally get where they’re coming from, the next.

Grant also does an excellent job of creating an atmospheric space that grows progressively smaller (and more ominous) by the minute... not a “locked room” mystery, precisely, but certainly a tightly-contained suspense—which is highly-effective.

Perhaps most importantly, though, the “whodunnit” (and “whydunnit”) neither come out of nowhere nor ring untrue; the ending feels satisfying, and worth the time spent invested with these characters.

Made You Look is a modern, timely, engrossing read for suspense and thriller fans... and if that sounds like you? You’ll grab a copy of this one pronto and curl up with it on a cold night, with the lights turned down low.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Penguin Random House and Berkley Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

No Rest for the Wicked, by Rachel Louise Adams (REVIEW) -- Halloween Town or Murder Town? Sometimes it's the same thing...

2025-10-30T20:23:00.000-07:00

Small towns. Unless you’ve lived in been a regular visitor to one, they’re kinda hard to wrap your head around.

Like realizing your neighbors know so much about you... stuff which everyone else

in town eventually winds up knowing, too. (Small towns, they do love to talk.)

But gossip is rarely truth—at least, not the full truth—which means all sorts of misunderstandings can happen.

And, when the veracity of such isn’t questioned (or refuted)? Hurt feelings, disappointments, and resentments can linger for years... as in Rachel Louise Adams’s debut thriller, No Rest for the Wicked.

Dolores Hawthorne fled Little Horton, Wisconsin (aka “Halloween Town”, thanks to its lavish celebration of the seasonally-macabre) nearly two decades ago... and didn’t plan on returning.

Ever.

But, when someone from the FBI calls her in L.A., saying her father, ex-mayor of Little Horton and former U.S. Senator, has gone missing—and suggesting that Dolores should really be there—it seems there’s no way of avoiding it.

Going back “home”.

Almost as soon as she steps off the plane, though, she’s immediately reminded of all the things she tried so hard to leave behind.

The town’s insane obsession with October 31, sure, but also its violent history of actual deaths occurring around that day.

Her stepmother... and the half-brother and half-sister, now grown up.

And the ex-boyfriend she abruptly broke up with... never to speak to, again.

Little Horton, of course, has always had plenty of thoughts about Dolores’ hasty departure... but no one actually knows the truth of what happened.

But now? Dolores fears that truth may finally be rearing its ugly head, because a letter—one which her father was apparently in the midst of writing, when he vanished—is addressed to her... warning her to trust no one.

And the fact that all of this is going down, during Halloween week? Has Dolores feeling way too much like one of the hapless teens in all those horror films... “Whatever you do, do NOT go running into the woods alone!! Well, damn, you just ran into the woods...”.

Atmospheric and suspenseful, with surprises and “OooOoh!” moments slowly revealing themselves around unexpected corners, No Rest for the Wicked is a treat during the long nights of autumn. (Obviously, the Halloween theme doesn’t hurt.)

There’s even cats—yes, actual CATS—featuring as supporting characters, here! (The cover doesn’t lie, I’m happy to say.)

Newcomer Rachel Louise Adams writes confidently, depicting life in a small Midwestern town—and how it feels once you’ve left it all behind—with ease.

If you’re short on plans over Halloween weekend—or during any lazy fall or wintry week, for that matter—No Rest for the Wicked would be a great way to spend some cozy reading time.

Just make sure you’ve got those doors and windows locked, first...

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to St. Martin's Press and Minotaur Books for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The Librarians, by Sherry Thomas (REVIEW) -- There's More to Your Local Librarian than Meets the Eye...

2025-09-29T21:59:00.000-07:00

Some jobs just lend themselves to stereotypes.

Take librarians. Say the word, and almost everyone envisions something.

For most people, that probably looks like an older female—matronly, with grey hair, a cardigan over her buttoned-up dress, high-Rx glasses, sensible shoes, and a stern expression. (Lots of “shushing” with this one.)

The rest go straight into fantasyland, with the “Sexy Librarian” trope—beautiful younger woman, long hair in a messy bun, buxom chest straining at the buttons of her shirt, snug pencil skirt, not-really-necessary glasses, and impractical high heels. (The secret dominatrix just waiting to get her freak on.)

So it’s like a breath of fresh air, that Sherry Thomas offers up not one, but four, stereotype-busting librarians in her latest mystery novel, The Librarians... and tosses in a murder or two for them to solve, as well.

A cozy, suburban branch of the Austin, Texas public library system.

Nothing fancy, just a friendly, inviting space, serving the local community, manned by a competent, knowledgeable staff.

Sophie, as head librarian, ably helms the branch... an efficient but standoffish single mom who takes her job oh-so-seriously... and has a very big secret she guards with her life.

Astrid, a late-twenties free spirit with Swedish roots, is quirky, kind, and interesting... but also incredibly lonely, seeing good things happening for everyone but herself.

Jonathan, the hunky, ex-high-school quarterback, who decided to become a librarian after finding solace in books during his military stint... and now longs, more than anything, to find true love (after finally finding his way out of the closet).

And newcomer Hazel... quick to point out she’s merely a clerk (having no librarian degree to her name), is a sophisticated half-Asian, half-American (but until very-recently, all-Japanese) transplant, dabbling in books because her grandmother suggested it.

What none of them—even with all their real-life messiness—ever expected, though, was to be dropped in the middle of one... no, make that two mysterious deaths... after a couple of unrelated people were seen at—or in the immediate vicinity of—the library, on its first ever Murder Mystery Gaming Night.

Two people who were, in all likelihood, murdered.

From that point, everything changes... for the horrified library patrons, certainly, but more so, for the library staff... who each, in one curious way or another, seem to have had some connection to the newly-deceased.

The investigating police are highly suspicious.

But possibly even worse? The librarians worry that more deaths are yet to occur.

Including, possibly, one of more of their own...

Any book by Sherry Thomas (with multiple series under her belt) is pretty much guaranteed to be a good read, and for me, The Librarians is definitely that.

But... I have a feeling this may be a polarizing book to some.

Not because it features LGBTQ characters—which it does (although there are no graphic scenes among those of any orientation, here)—but because this book is first and foremost a character study.

Put another way, The Librarians is maybe one-third about the mystery, and two-thirds about the characters... who they are, why they are, and how events in their lives have shaped them into the individuals we meet, when the story begins.

[If you’re thinking to yourself, “well, that’s part a major part of any psychological suspense”, then I agree with you wholeheartedly... but I also recognize that some readers may not be expecting such a thoughtful look into motivations which inform character... but may/may not have much to do with the murders.]

Bottom line for me is I enjoyed The Librarians immensely. It takes the time to let us understand and really care about the leads. The various issues each person is facing/has dealt with provide great richness and depth.

Solving the mystery of the deaths is interesting, as well... and not entirely expected.

Above all, The Librarians is an absolute love letter to librarians, everywhere—and in an ancillary way, to anyone who has ever loved going to the library.

And that, in my book, makes it a total winner.

If you’re a booklover looking for a long-weekend read? Give The Librarians serious consideration.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Penguin Random House and Berkley Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

A Killer Wedding, by Joan O'Leary (REVIEW) -- Weddings of the Super-Rich Aren't Like Yours... and That's a Good Thing(!)

2025-09-23T20:22:00.000-07:00

Who doesn’t love a great big wedding?

The idea of two people, symbolically sharing their Happily-Ever-After with those nearest-and-dearest... even for the semi-cynical amongst us, it’s hard to resist.

But make it a celebrity to-do—where one of them is famous (or infamous), or insanely-wealthy—and suddenly, it’s a whole different ballgame.

[Plus, zero chance most of us would merit an invitation...]

If any of us had the opportunity to attend The Wedding of the Year, we’d RSVP “Yes!”, wouldn’t we?

Especially if we had no clue, going into it, that we’d be RSVPing to the scene of a murder... as in Joan O’Leary’s A Killer Wedding.

It’s quite a coup when Christine, a lowly staff writer for elite Bespoke Weddings magazine—which only covers the most-fabulous nuptials—is singled out to cover the Wedding of the Year, the Ripton-Murphy union.

Grandmother-of-the-groom, octogenarian Gloria Beaufort, is the founder of global cosmetics conglomerate, Glo (an über-trendy premium beauty brand)... and she’s handpicked Christine to be the sole reporter present during the lavishly-festive weekend.

Why Christine? No one—including her editor—has a clue, but the twenty-something isn’t about to question it... especially not when everything’s taking place in Ballymoon, an Irish castle-cum-luxury hotel (and notably distant from the Eastern U.S. seaboard, where the Ripton clan, most of the guests, and Bespoke’s offices are all located).

Of course, all that glitters is not gold... and Christine’s first day is bonkers.

Dealing with the neurotic event planner. Attending dress fittings for the jittery bride and her coterie of champagne-gulping bridesmaids. Sitting down to a fractious dinner with the entire Ripton clan (who seemingly can’t stand each other)... honestly, there aren't enough glasses of champagne to begin to deal with all of that.

The only thing missing is Gloria, who wasn’t feeling well and asked for a tray to be sent up, instead.

Anxious to interview the grand dame, Christine consoles herself with the knowledge that tomorrow will be better anyway, after she sleeps off the jetlag.

But when morning dawns, it isn’t the gentle sound of Irish rain which pulls her from slumber. It’s a piercing scream—coming from Gloria’s room.

The assorted pajama-clad Riptons—and Christine—stumble down the hallway from their rooms, to find bride-to-be Jane kneeling over Gloria’s very bloody—and very dead—body.

Obviously, a murder.

And the family’s immediate consensus? That no one—NO ONE—will know about Gloria’s untimely demise... until after the weekend is over.

Which means a gag order on Christine... aside, of course, from happy wedding chatter to titillate the magazine’s avid readers.

So, while the weekend stretches on—seemingly endlessly, now—Christine watches as nerves fray to the breaking point... and finds herself wondering which of the assembled family or invited guests might’ve had the most to gain by Gloria’s death.

The uptight son, recently named Glo’s CEO... who’s finding the position comes with more headaches (like a huge lawsuit) than perks. His wife, an artist (with no actual talent), who doesn’t seem particularly happy... although a glass (or three) of bubbly makes things better.

One grandson, who can’t stay clean and sober to save his life... and his beautiful, long-suffering society wife (who’s harboring a massive secret of her own).

And then there’s Graham, the handsome grandson-who-can-do-no-wrong... and his betrothed, Jane, a grade-school teacher with a modest background, whom everyone writes off as “boring” and “plain”... but what do they know, really?

Throw in the family’s priest, clearly making the most of the high life and celebrity status granted him, as such. And one very famous (erm, infamous) movie star, flown out on Gloria’s command, to be a bridesmaid... despite the fact that she and Jane had never even met.

The more Christine chats with and observes the various family and wedding party members, the less appealing she finds their lives... full of backbiting, infighting, grubby little secrets, and outright unpleasantness.

The deeper she digs, the more she realizes the story she really wants to tell actually has nothing to do with another over-the-top wedding... and everything to do with revealing the tarnish and rot beneath the glo(w).

There’s just one big question: will the person responsible for Gloria’s murder let allow her to live long enough to tell that tale..?

A Killer Wedding has similar vibes to a handful of HBO (Netflix, Amazon Prime)—shows over the past several years (often starring Nicole Kidman, plus a handful of other accomplished, successful, mid-life Hollywood beauties)—wherein Very Wealthy, Privileged People Behave Badly (but Possibly Redeem Themselves... Somewhat).

[That isn't a diss. As humans, we have a very long history of wanting to see what the “fancy people” really get up to... and it makes for some highly-entertaining viewing/reading today, as much as then.]

So yes, it’s a guilty-pleasure kind of effervescent fun... with a good helping of humor, sustained suspense, and a protagonist who, herself, isn’t precisely lily-white (because who'd want that?!).

Throw in a solution to the whole thing that I really didn’t see coming, and you’ve got a cracking mystery, that’s a pretty fabulous take-me-away-from-it-all-(to-Ireland-if-you-please) bit of yummy escapism.

Go ahead. Put A Killer Wedding in your cart (on your list), posthaste. Whether you fall on the side of dewy-eyed, HEA-lovers or wedding-averse cynics, this one delivers.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to William Morrow for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World, by Mark Waddell (REVIEW) -- Making Deals with a Devil...

2025-09-07T14:09:00.000-07:00

The job market is TOUGH.

So what’s a recent college grad to do, armed with a shiny degree in whatever, saddled with a mountain of debt... and finding few—if any—job prospects?

Go to work for a secretive multinational corporation dealing in “problem-solving”... essentially, a “fixer” for issues no one dares talk about, outside of hushed boardrooms?

You bet.

And then one day, make a deal with what may be an actual agent of Hell... all for the sake of a promotion?

I mean, sure, that's a plan.

Of course, such deals never come without a few strings... as one young man quickly discovers in Mark Waddell’s darkly-satirical take on climbing the corporate ladder, Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World.

After several years of feeling like the lowest man on the totem pole in Dark Enterprises’ Human Resources department, earnest, cardigan-clad Colin receives the dreaded notice: he has one week to fix his latest screw-up, or face termination.

Problem is, at Dark Enterprises, “termination” means complete-and-utter, never-to-be-seen-again, finality.

(And honestly, he should know; his department is often responsible for enacting terminations.)

Colin very, very much doesn’t want to be terminated... but sadly, doesn’t have a clue how to change the unhappy fate awaiting him.

Until, that is, a shadowy stranger approaches him one night.

The hooded visage—only inky, swirling darkness where its face should be—says he’ll grant Colin’s greatest wish... in return for one very small favor (to be determined at a later date).

With nothing to lose, Colin agrees.

His ask? A big promotion at work... one that’ll give him genuine power, real respect, and a better paycheck.

The next day, his wish is granted(ish). Colin becomes assistant to one of Dark Enterprises’ top executives—the formidable Ms. Crenshaw—moving out of his lowly spot in the Human Resources cubicle farm and into a posh office space on the corporation’s prestigious 13^th floor.

Sure, his new position might not be quite as fancy as he’d envisioned—given that his main tasks entail getting his boss’ Starbucks orders and managing her calendar—but whatever. It’s still a major step up.

(Plus, there’s the whole avoiding-permanent-termination aspect... no small potatoes, that.)

OF COURSE, though, things soon go sideways. (Deals with the devil? Always do.)

What Colin really succeeded in doing was freeing a creature of untold evil that had been bound for centuries... and letting it loose on Manhattan.

And this entity? It’s HUNGRY...

As hundreds—and then thousands—of people start disappearing all over the city, Colin realizes it’s up to him to somehow fix the epic mess he’s unwittingly created.

And if he just so happens to ascend to the highest echelons of Dark Enterprises, after, oh, just SAVING THE WORLD, well... so be it.

First off, Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World is a delightfully off-kilter romp.

In the best Urban Fantasy form, it gives us a flawed-but-likable hero in Colin... an ordinary (fine, nerdy) young man, who’s tired of being on the receiving end of mockery and being taken advantage of at work.

(When you learn why one of his colleagues in Human Resources is so horrid to him, ouch... it hurts.)

He’s also blessed with a small band of merry (well, and not-so-merry) helpers on his eventual quest of world-saving—another key ingredient in UF stories.

There’s his best friend (and flatmate) Amira, a tiny dynamo who’s brilliant at maths and physics.

Eric, the ridiculously-hunky, sweet guy from Amira’s yoga class, who—shockingly(!)—seems well on the way to becoming Colin’s boyfriend.

And then there’s Lex, a gender-neutral librarian in Dark Enterprises’ vast archives, who has little patience for Colin’s problems... yet they always end up helping him, anyways.

Colin Gets Promoted... also features cunning worldbuilding (another important element in any fantastical story). In this case, though, the lion’s share of worldbuilding takes place within the walls of an office building—which makes for a fun change of pace.

And finally, the baddie is truly bad... but in another clever twist, so are ninety percent of the characters! (Dark Enterprises is, unequivocally, not a nice place.) Once you get over that realization, and just go with it, the story is a charmer.

Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World may not be for everyone... but if quirky, smart, funny, poignant, and thoroughly-modern Urban Fantasy sounds like it might be a hoot? You’ll add this one to your TBR list, like RIGHT NOW.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Berkley Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Shadow Play, by Sara Driscoll (REVIEW) -- The Monsters Come Out to Play Online

2025-08-28T13:45:00.000-07:00

By now—a quarter of the way through the 21^st century—we probably couldn’t survive without the internet.

We use it for shopping. Keeping up with friends and family. Work. Job hunting. Looking for love. And finding answers to every “How do I fix this?” or “What do I do now?” question that pops into our heads.

But it isn’t just a shopping mall/phone-and-snail-mail alternative/meeting place/encyclopedia.

Because while it does draw us together, it also allows for anonymity... a murky, shadowy space where con artists, conspiracy theorists, and bullies converge.

And sometimes, where maniacs come out to play.

Thriller author Sara Driscoll’s latest, Shadow Play, looks at the downside of online.

When physical therapist Krista agrees to be part of a weekly, live-streaming show offering relationship and life advice with her best friend, Hailey, it sounds like a fun hobby.

After all, Krista has always been good at helping people talk through their problems. Heck, even her PT clients pick her brain for advice while she’s working with them.

And Hailey—a techie, who already has a sizable gamer presence on the popular platform, Twitch—is stoked about the possibilities.

Talking live on-air from their homes in Chicago... answering questions coming in from around the world via the viewers’ chat... and encouraging viewers to post their own helpful advice? What could go wrong?

So, so much. [But we’ll get to that.]

Their regular-people-giving-advice show—A Word from the Wise—takes off, just as Hailey predicted... and as their followers grow, so does the money coming in.

But popularity always comes at a price.

One night, a viewer—going by the handle Chase547—asks for advice about a woman he’s interested in. He’s convinced the best way to get her attention is by a grand gesture... but Krista disagrees, saying that’s likely to scare her off.

Chase547 balks at her response... but agrees to report back after he’s made contact.

When he does—now expressing contempt for the woman “he knows he’s right for” (despite the fact that she keeps rejecting him)—Krista and Hailey urge him to stop harassing her, because she clearly isn’t interested.

Chase547 goes off... becoming more and more irate, threatening her bodily harm, if she doesn’t accept his advances. Viewers go wild in the chat... and by the time their next show rolls around, viewership has skyrocketed.

The fact their show has gone viral due to this unhinged character worries Krista a lot, but Hailey insists everything will be fine, because the moderators can just ban him (and anyone else who chimes in, supporting violence).

In short order, that’s exactly how it plays out. The mods ban Chase547—but he somehow returns almost immediately, with a different user name... and then another... and another, after each successive ban—his threats successively more violent.

Until one night, he writes in the chat that he’s done it.

Killed her.

A day or two later, the body of a young woman is pulled out of the lake, and Krista and Hailey’s worst fear is confirmed.

This maniac isn’t somewhere halfway around the world... he’s right there in Chicago.

And his fury seems to be turning towards them, next.

In Shadow Play, Driscoll does a nice job showing how live-chat shows work—from the at-home setups and the mods, to how they make money, and the impact viewership has.

She also gives each main character a “real job”—tech for Hailey, and PT for Krista—positioning them as independent women doing this—at least, in the beginning—as a passion project... that happens to go viral.

(My one minor quibble with Shadow Play, actually, is the amount of time Driscoll shows Krista in her job as a physical therapist. Having gone through a few rounds of PT, I know she’s definitely done her research, but those scenes could’ve been abbreviated.)

Overall, Shadow Play is a solid suspense/thriller... peopled by likable, relatable characters... spiced up with a dash of Chicago flavor... and imbued with a palpable sense of unease via its scary, ripped-from-the-headlines killer.

[It would also lend itself perfectly to being adapted to film on Netflix or Amazon Prime. Just sayin’...]

Shadow Play is a fine choice to curl up with on the sofa, with the lights low, on a night you want an easy, enjoyable read that pulls you in.

(Even if it does make you rethink participating in any online forums, for a while...)

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Kensington Publishing for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The Marigold Cottages Murder Collective, by Jo Nichols (REVIEW) -- Only Murders in the Courtyard

2025-08-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

If you dug out your blender... threw in a whole bunch of Only Murders in the Building... added a soupçon of Friends... a jigger or so of Cheers... and a hearty dash of Mrs. Roper (from Three’s Company)... well, you might end up with something much like the delightful tipple that is Jo Nichols’ mystery novel, The Marigold Cottages Murder Collective.

And if you did? Oh my, how sweet it would taste, going down...

The elderly, caftan-wearing “Mrs. B” is the proud owner and landlady of a grouping of seven quaint cottages (one of which being her own domicile), in beautiful Santa Barbara, California.

The cottages are a blast from the past—tiny, grouped intimately around a miniature courtyard—and constantly fighting off “progress”, in the form of fancy new multi-occupant buildings (the likes of which encroach upon all sides).

Being just a short walk from the Pacific Ocean, though, means these little homes are veritable gold-mines-in-the-making.

Mrs. B tries—and succeeds, by and large—to remain oblivious to such changes, however, as she holds fast to her ideals and fiercely protects the needs of her motley little band of tenants.

There’s Ocean, the artist living there since a child (whom Mrs. B half-raised), now a single lesbian mom of a pre-teen and a teenager. Lily-Ann, a middle-aged queen of a woman, separated from the cold husband who never truly appreciated her meticulous nature. Hamilton, the well-meaning, mid-life agoraphobe who knows something about everything, despite never leaving his tiny abode. Nicholas, a handsome finance wiz who mostly keeps to himself (by choice). And Sophie, the pretty young Asian playwright trying desperately to make it big whilst escaping troubles from her past.

Until one day, when Mrs. B informs the lot that a new renter will be taking the last remaining cottage... a half-cottage, really, created from what used to be a storage space.

Anthony... a painfully-quiet, disturbingly-intimidating, newly-out-of-prison ex-con... replete with a veritable buffet of tats (including facial ones).

It’s a lot to take in... and even more so, when, in the space of only a few weeks, those same residents find a dead body in their courtyard.

Anthony—as the sole ex-con—is quickly taken into custody... but Mrs. B insists upon his innocence.

The police don't believe the “batty” old woman... who responds by hieing herself off to the station and confessing to the murder, herself.

What follows is, well, pretty much exactly what you’d probably hope for, were you a tenant of the Marigold Cottages... a coming-together of the troops, in support of their own.

(Yes, even of the ex-con—at least by some of them.)

As conflicting tales confound the police—and to some degree, perplex the cottage-holders, themselves—one thing nonetheless becomes clear.

NO ONE should mess with The Marigold Cottages Murder Collective (such as it is/they are)... because when even one of their merry band of misfits is threatened, it’s a threat to them all.

And they most definitely aren’t having it.

Some stories feel very much of-a-place, and The Marigold Cottages Murder Collective is absolutely one of those.

Sure, there are other locales where you might find a similarly-motley group of characters—see basically any Carl Hiaasen book (with kooky Floridian settings and characters)—but still... this one definitely has a strong SoCal vibe (in an IYKYK kinda way).

Which—if you do know—happens to be spot-on perfect.

And that leads me to... all the FEELS I have about This. Book.

The Marigold Cottages Murder Collective is like a great-big warm hug... for anyone who’s ever felt excluded, or different... whether for a moment, or a lifetime.

It’s... beautiful.

The characters—every single one of them—are so well-drawn I feel like I could call them up on the phone. I genuinely cared about each of them—their pasts, the hurts and the happies that made them who they are—and hoped against hope for good outcomes all around.

Nichols shows great understanding and compassion for the messiness and ordinariness of life... and interweaves a deep level of tenderness throughout.

No matter who you are, if you want to feel good about your fellow persons... you should read this book.

It’s funny... heartwarming... quirky... and immensely entertaining, from start to finish.

In short, I can’t recommend it highly enough.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to St. Martin's Press and Minotaur Books for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The Locked Ward, by Sarah Pekkanen (REVIEW) -- When Your Only Hope is That Blood Really IS Thicker Than Water...

2025-08-05T21:35:00.000-07:00

That sisterly—or sibling—bond is something I, an only child, will never know.

But wow, have I wondered about it, over the years.

What would it be like, to grow up with other people my own age?

To share secrets and rivalries. To bicker... but probably also (at least sometimes), to have each other’s backs.

But take that a few steps further, and imagine how it would feel to have a sibling—a twin, no less—of whom you’d never been aware... until you’d already lived more than three decades?

And then, after learning that truth... you only reached out—to that previously-unknown person you’d once shared a womb with—after you’d been accused of murder?

Bestselling thriller author Sarah Pekkanen takes a stab at how such a scenario might play out with her latest, The Locked Ward.

For some reason, most of us don’t expect the uber-rich to have Big Problems. (As though obscene sums of money should be the cure for everything...)

Yet beautiful socialite Georgia—the (adopted) first daughter of a wealthy Southern family—finds herself facing an epically-huge problem, after she’s arrested for murdering her sister, Annabelle... the younger-by-mere-months natural daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright.

No one understands why Georgia would do such a thing... but given that Annabelle was the “perfect” daughter, while Georgia was the one sent away to boarding school because she was “such a problem”, there are certainly plenty of opinions.

Sibling rivalry, taken to the nth level? An evil, violent streak she was born with (courtesy of her birth parents, whoever they were)? A moment of pure insanity, perhaps caused by drugs, rage, or some issue buried deep within her psyche?

Whatever the reason, Georgia has zero help—no family, no friends—she can call on.

So, when she lands in the “locked ward” of the hospital—the top floor, where those with serious psychiatric issues are treated (or held, in her case, pending an official determination as to whether she’s mentally fit to stand trial)—she reaches out to the only possible person she can think of to beg for assistance... the twin sister she’s only very recently learned about.

But the woman she reaches out to—Amanda—has been privy to no such discovery... and is gobsmacked when she receives a message asking her presence at a secure psychiatric ward in the city, some 1.5 hours away... from someone who claims to be her long-lost twin.

Yet after she’s had a moment (or three) to digest this shocking news, Mandy realizes she’s not nearly as surprised as she would’ve thought.

She’d always known she was adopted—and had adored her “real” parents (the ones who raised her)—yet somehow, she’d also felt there was a little something missing.

And now she knew. Provided this stranger’s claim was true—which, of course, was the big question that would require answering—it might just be that she’d been missing a literal piece of herself, all this time.

Her twin.

After meeting her, she still doesn’t trust Georgia, not really. But that doesn’t stop Mandy from clinging to... hope? Blind faith? A certainty that somewhere in the story she’s being told, there’s a very real and important truth... and one way or the other, she’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

If it acquits her new-found twin? Cool.

But even if the opposite is the case, well... at least she’ll know.

The Locked Ward feels both very of-the-moment, with its reliance on modern technology, science, and the media... as well as also feeling somehow timeless, with its twisty tale of complicated family dynamics, and the lies so many people are willing to tell—and keep—for reasons.

Pekkanen does an excellent job depicting Georgia and Mandy—their similarities and differences, and how easy it would be for them to believe (or not) the truth of their relationship. They’re well-drawn characters, and honestly, feel a lot like people you've probably known.

The story alternates from one sister’s POV to that of the other, giving the reader more insight into each woman’s personality, thoughts, and motivations very effectively.

But let's talk about the elephant in the room...

Is this yet another Rich-People-Behaving-Badly story? Okay, yes, yes it is.

[I know, I know... I’m growing weary of them, too.]

But it’s also more than that, with an interesting—and visceral take—on fear. Evil. And on just plain old family stuff (which an awful lot of us, regardless of our bank accounts, or the relative happiness of our relationships, can appreciate).

I didn’t see exactly where this one was going... but it all made sense, in the end.

And really, isn’t that the very best kind of suspense/thriller—when you can’t figure out the whodunit (or the whydunit) until the final pages... but then totally get it, once you’ve seen it?

Pekkanen has another winner on her hands with The Locked Ward... making it a must-read recommendation from me.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to St. Martin's Press for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The Game is Murder, by Hazell Ward (REVIEW) -- Mystery Game FAIL

2025-07-29T19:47:00.000-07:00

There’s something that feels really... squicky, about leaving a negative review.

Regardless of what the something being reviewed is, any unflattering remarks reflect poorly on someone’s service, skills, manners, or—in the case of a book—their art... and that’s a hard thing to do (let alone, be the recipient of).

Nonetheless, a not-so-great review has a purpose. It’s essentially a warning sign, letting others know to proceed with caution (and why).

So consider this, at best, a triangular yellow yield sign... to stop, and look both ways, before proceeding with Hazell Ward’s The Game is Murder.

From the synopsis, it sounded like a slam dunk.

There were comparisons to Netflix’s Glass Onion and Agatha Christie. The promise of “razor-sharp twists” and “sly misdirection”. It’s also a period piece—set in the 1970s—which, in theory, put a cool, interesting spin on things.

And, perhaps the most enticing, was the novelty of its main hook—actually playing detective, as the reader... tasked with divining the murderer when given the facts, clues, and observations much as a detective on-scene would have at their disposal.

(What mystery reader hasn’t put themselves in the shoes of every fictional detective, ever?!)

But alas—for me, at least—The Game is Murder landed with a crashingly-dull thud.

And a frustrating one, at that.

So enamored of its own Big Idea—the “YOU’re-the-detective!!” schtick—the story immediately gets bogged down by way too much story-setting.

It’s not only tedious to follow/keep track of, but, frankly, an absolute slog. The exact opposite of fun, which is what I usually expect from something calling itself a "game".

(So much not fun, in fact, that I didn’t even finish the entire book... and that’s something I very rarely say.)

There are bound to be redeeming qualities in this book. I mean, a novel (har-dee-har) idea ought to be applauded, right?

Well... yes, and also no.

Because an idea has to land right, needs to work, and, in the case of a book (or a program or movie), should absolutely keep its audience fully engaged, throughout.

And The Game is Murder sadly didn’t nail any of that, for me.

But if, after all of this, you decide to read it, I’d love to hear your reaction... so please do LMK what you think, eh? This one’s bound to find an audience out there... somewhere(?).

As for me, well... I’ll be on to my next read. 

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Berkley for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Ink Ribbon Red, by Alex Pavesi (REVIEW) -- Whatever You Do, Don't Believe Everything You Read...

2025-07-22T18:57:00.000-07:00

There’s a plot device sometimes used in mystery novels, known as the “unreliable narrator”... which means what the storyteller says may--or may not—be true.

Usually, this unreliable person is one main character.

But imagine being faced with no fewer than six such potentially-unreliable sources?

How would you know who—if anyone—to believe... and who was absolutely not to be trusted?

Welcome to author Alex Pavesi’s intricately-twisted tale, Ink Ribbon Red, where absolutely everything anyone says is suspect.

There are a few different ways people approach “milestone” birthdays (the ones ending in zeroes).

Some treat such birthdays like harbingers of apocalyptic proportions, best avoided (or at least, strenuously denied). For others, those “big birthdays” are a great excuse for a massive shindig. And for some, such birthdays are no different than any of the others which have already come and gone.

Anatol falls more in the latter camp. Yes, he’s having a thirtieth birthday party... but it’s exactly the same as the last dozen or so have been, with his little group of college friends venturing out from points across London and journeying to Anatol’s family estate in the countryside, to fete his name day.

Phoebe, the schoolteacher, was sort of the hub from which the spokes on their wheel of friendship radiated. Maya, the still-struggling artist. Dean, the precise engineer (and husband of Phoebe’s sister). Marcin, the successful broker, living the glamorous life. And Janika, the journalist, who travels often, chasing stories.

Then, of course, the Birthday Boy himself, Anatol. The one who perpetually felt like an outsider. A hulking figure always physically-larger than most people, raised on a big country estate by an imposing ogre of a father. Just... different, in ways not even he really had words for.

But this year, itself, was just different.

Anatol’s father had only very recently died—under unusual circumstances, no less—leaving the family estate, well... in a state.

Janika had been working in Australia, finishing up an assignment, but promised to make the arduous trip back in time to celebrate with the gang.

Phoebe felt like her life was going basically nowhere, fast.

Dean had... a secret. Actually, more than one.

And Maya? Just wanted something—anything—interesting, to happen, to break the monotony and inspire her.

In other words, the time was ripe... when Anatol, once the majority of his friends had assembled, announced the return of a game he’d created and had them play in the past: Motive Method Death.

His game seemed simple enough, on its face; each person drew two names randomly from two different containers—the names of two of the friends there—and then fashioned a short story detailing how and why one friend murdered the other.

The goal was to create the most believable murder... because when you’ve known each other for more than a decade, you tend to know the trigger points. The touchy bits. The deep, dark secrets (including those that not all of the group were privy to).

And then the following day, Anatol would read all of the stories aloud... presumably, for everyone’s amusement. (Or enlightenment? Embarrassment?)

At least, that’s what he told them...

But once the stories have voices—and everyone knows something unpleasant or unhappy or unappealing that they didn’t know before—things take a whole different turn.

The friends look at each other differently. With distrust... or outright contempt.

And just like that, the fictitious murders they’d been cajoled by the birthday boy into writing, take on new relevance... giving anyone, everyone, a reason to actually do the deed to someone else there, that weekend.

And then? That’s exactly what happens...

So. It took me longer to get through Ink Ribbon Red than I thought it would.

It wasn’t that I didn’t find myself invested, though; I did.

Nor was the issue that the book wasn’t well-written; it was.

My problem? That I couldn’t find it in me to truly like any of the characters... which always makes for a harder read, full-stop.

I really didn’t like ANY of the characters.

And yet...

After racing through the last quarter of the book—because I HAD to see where it was going to land—my overall feeling is really positive.

In a nutshell? I sorta loved this book.

It toyed with me... even when I (eventually) suspected the direction it was going. (Yet still didn’t quite work out...)

It teased and tantalized me, still off-footed as to precisely what was real... and what was just a fantasy, begrudgingly cobbled together by each of the assembled friends.

And in the end, I found that not only did I think (quite a lot, as it took me back to my college years, too), but I also felt... for one of those pain-points in life (whether it’s 30 or 40 or whatever, at some point, most of us feel something), and I understood.

There are moments when any one of us may find ourselves on the edge of a precipice... and we don’t know quite which direction we’ll fall.

Until we do.

(Or we don’t.)

Ink Ribbon Red won’t be the easiest read you’ll have all year... but if you’re up for a challenge, and feeling things you don’t necessarily want to feel? This’ll do it. In grand style.

~GlamKitty

[Thanks to Henry Holt & Co. for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The World's Greatest Detective and Her Just Okay Assistant, by Liza Tully (REVIEW) -- The Battle of the Hopeful Gen Z Apprentice & Her Brilliant Boomer Boss

2025-07-14T18:47:00.000-07:00

So, a little about me. (Trust me, it'll all make sense soon.)

I devoured the entire Nancy Drew book series—more than once—when I was little.

It followed, then, that sometimes one of my Barbie dolls got to act out being a detective; I was completely hooked on the idea.

Even now (years later!), whenever I read a mystery novel—or watch one in show/movie form—a little part of me is still right there in the detective’s shoes.

I’m hardly alone in my secret dreams of being a P.I., of course.

For most of us, though, that’s all it remains... a fantasy we live out vicariously on the page or screen.

But imagine, for a minute, what might’ve happened if you’d scrambled to make that dream a reality.

If, say, you finagled your way (possibly over-hyping your abilities a tiny bit) into an apprenticeship with not just a private investigator... but with a legendary one.

Well, then you might get something like the tale that unfolds in author Liza Tully’s deliciously-fun The World’s Greatest Detective and Her Just Okay Assistant.

Not long out of college, Olivia Blunt is getting nowhere fast in her nowhere job.

She’s an underpaid fact-checker, living with her actor boyfriend in a tiny Manhattan apartment, and she’s tired of all the headaches from staring at her computer screen all day.

Until one day—after watching an interview with Aubrey Merritt, the world-famous private detective—Olivia gets a harebrained idea: follow in Ms. Merritt’s illustrious footsteps!

It feels like fate when a few months later, she spots an ad for the detective’s assistant. She applies and eventually—somehow!—actually lands the job.

But what she didn’t count on was how very similar her daily tasks would be, to those of her previous job.

Exactly. The. Same.

Day in and day out, her boss has her parked in front of a computer doing research and answering the phone.

Never once does Merritt (as she prefers to be called) have her assistant accompany her out in the field... which means Olivia isn’t learning anything.

Nor does the stern, no-nonsense boss give her any praise or encouragement; there are precisely zero warm fuzzies at the office.

Fate once more intervenes, however, when Olivia answers a call requesting the great detective’s services.

She’s intrigued. A vibrant, successful, and happy woman—one Victoria Summersworth, heir to a prominent resort—fell from a balcony to her death on the night of her big 65th birthday bash. The local police ruled the tragedy a suicide... but one of the woman’s adult children insists it was murder.

Olivia persuades Merritt to take the case... and Merritt tells her assistant to pack a bag. (Okay, it may have been more that the case is in Vermont and Merritt can’t drive... but Olivia won’t split hairs. The boss needs her!!)

What the two women find in Vermont is far more complex than they’d imagined, though.

The surviving family—stepchildren, her children, and their partners—is a hotbed of jealousy and resentment. Everyone (aside from their client, Victoria’s daughter) seems more than happy to accept the police verdict... meaning none of them are exactly cooperative (or honest).

Worse, Olivia manages to bungle every task Merritt gives her... leaving both of them in serious doubt as to her continued employment.

Having nothing left to lose, Olivia decides to undertake a little clandestine investigating of her own... but with her unenviable track record, she’s just as likely to get herself dead.

The World’s Greatest Detective and Her Just Okay Assistant is, without doubt, an absolute hoot. (If the book title doesn’t clue you in, well, you’re not really paying attention, are you?)

But it’s also a smart, up-to-the-minute read, with its Battle-of-the-Generations vibe running throughout. Olivia, in her early twenties, is Camp Gen Z... whereas her boss—the woman she admires—is well into her sixties, and thus firmly in Camp Boomer.

Which creates friction. A lotta friction.

Not only does author Tully not shy away from their differences in opinions, experiences, and ideas, though... she also doesn’t make light of them, not casting either woman as foolish, old-fashioned, or ill-informed. Instead, she lets them talk about how and why they feel as they do.

One feels certain that equality (in things such as pay, respect, and opportunities) should be a given... while the other has lived through the exact opposite of that, and knows that few things can be relied to be such absolutes, ever.

The fact that each is somehow able to learn something from the other? To understand why their mindsets are so different? Is really cool to see.

If the flavor of NYC... and the allure of being an investigator (and a famous, brilliant one, at that)... OR, of a younger person, learning from the best... rocks your world, then The World’s Greatest Detective and Her Just Okay Assistant should absolutely zoom right to the top of your TBR list.

As for me, well... I’ll just be over here, impatiently awaiting the sequel.

~GlamKitty

[My sincere thanks to Berkley Publishing Group, for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Murder Takes a Vacation, by Laura Lippman (REVIEW) -- Murder's No Match for a Midlife Woman

2025-06-29T18:28:00.000-07:00

If there’s one type of person whom others should reconsider messing with, it’s a midlife woman who has finally, at long last, come into her own...

Take Mrs. Muriel Blossom. At 68, she’s already lived two-thirds of her life.

She’s been a wife, a mother, and a working woman... and now, after nearly 40 years of marriage, she’s a retired widow.

She’s also the recent—and very, very lucky—holder of a winning lottery ticket, which has vastly improved the prospect of her golden years. Finally, she’ll be able to see the world... something the homebody Mr. Blossom sadly never had any inkling to do.

But, while Mrs. Blossom has never been one to attract a lot of attention—particularly not from the opposite sex!—she suddenly finds herself in a full-blown, real-life, torn-from-a-movie-script plotline.

On a fancy cruise ship, traversing the Seine, with eligible men seemingly coming out of the woodwork [cue a deliriously-raucous rendition of “It’s raining men... hallelujah!”]... and murder.

Because sometimes—at least, in the hands of NYT bestselling author, Laura Lippman—Murder Takes a Vacation.

Mrs. Blossom, when pondering her first big splurge—an elegant river cruise through France—pictured things a certain way. On deck, drinking wine and cocktails with her lifelong BFF, Elinor. Taking day trips to interesting old towns along the way. Eating in charming cafes.

What she most definitely didn’t picture was Allan, her debonair seatmate on the plane from Baltimore to Europe... who, wonder of wonders, seemed utterly fascinated with her. (Muriel had never been what anyone apparently considered “a looker”. Well, aside from the late Mr. Blossom, of course.)

And even more shocking? That Muriel should find herself equally attracted to him... the first man she’d thought about in romantic terms, in the decade since she’d been widowed.

Yet a mere whirlwind day later—after a whole kerfuffle involving a (contraband) sleep gummy that caused her to miss her connecting flight, and instead, to spend a delightful day with him in London—the oh-so-appealing Allan is... gone.

Gone-gone, as in dead.

And Mrs. Blossom doesn’t know what to think... or where to turn for answers.

Certainly not the annoying—always right there, whenever she turns around—younger man, Danny... who claims to be an FBI agent, and keeps trying to grill Mrs. Blossom about what Allan was doing. (As if she would know, hmph!)

And not the wealthy man onboard whom Elinor is enamored of... or his elderly sister, whose cabin is robbed while she’s in it.

Something is definitely “going on”... but what no one understands is that it’s precisely Mrs. Blossom’s ability to fade into the background—to attract zero attention to herself—which made her, on many occasions, a useful assistant (to Baltimore P.I., Tess Monaghan)... and which may now, with some luck, give her an edge in sussing out what’s really happening.

Because no one messes with Mrs. Blossom—or her friends, or even her potential friends—and gets away with it.

Have you ever read a book and instantly connected with one of the characters? Wished it were a real person, someone you could actually hang out with?

Mrs. Blossom is like that, for me.

Sure, she’s a fair bit older than me—although closer to much-older-sister, than mother—and no, we’re not terribly similar. Our lives, our experiences, have been quite different.

Yet in ways that really matter, we’re alike... because I, like Mrs. Blossom, have come storming into my own, as a midlife woman.

Both are determined to find our own paths, make our own choices, and live exciting lives that please us.

We’re very intelligent... yet fully aware we’ll still make plenty of mistakes (which is perfectly okay).

Consistently an excellent storyteller, Lippman takes a fascinating little segue from her popular Tess Monaghan private-eye series, in Murder Takes a Vacation.

Mrs. Blossom was only ever a minor character, an assistant Monaghan used occasionally. Innocuous, in the way that middle-aged women so often find themselves being treated.

Here, though, Muriel Blossom is brought to vivid, colorful life... a large (plus-size) woman, who suddenly realizes she now has the means and opportunity to live the larger life she always wanted.

Lippman shows great sensitivity with regard to Mrs. Blossom—we feel her fears and uncertainty, and experience some of the pain, embarrassment, and awkwardness she’s endured. [Lippman actually addresses some of this in the afterword, which was lovely to read.]

Is Mrs. Blossom the hot, sexy, midlife woman bent on buying herself a whole new life (as though it were a designer wardrobe or a sports car), popular in so many books? Hardly. But she is an extremely-relatable woman that most of us—particularly in that mid-portion of life—can probably identify with.

And she’s pretty gosh-darn likable, to boot. (In a spunky grandmotherly sort of way... which is exactly what she is.)

Murder Takes a Vacation is a great little mystery, set in a picturesque locale, with an unusual heroine. If you’re looking for a surprising and fun read, this would make a fine choice. (Vacation of your own not required.)

~GlamKitty

[My sincere thanks to William Morrow, for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The Paris Widow, by Kimberly Belle (Thriller REVIEW) -- The Dangerous Secrets Spouses Keep

2025-06-17T15:50:00.000-07:00

When two people get married, they--at least, ideally--feel they know each other pretty well.

Their likes and dislikes. What makes them laugh, and the things that make them sad or upset. Their habits and eccentricities.

But how well do we ever really know another person? There’s always something we’re holding back... something embarrassing, that we’re ashamed of, or that we simply know our partner wouldn’t be cool with.

That’s normal.

The thing is, there are little, unimportant secrets... and then, there are deep, dark, hidden things that have the power to change everything we thought we knew.

Kimberly Belle delivers a tempting souffle of the latter variety, in The Paris Widow.

From the moment Stella and Adam had their meet-cute, it seemed they were meant to be together.

A quiet, calm guy—who nerded out over the cool old architectural interior treatments he found and sold to his wealthy clients—Adam fell hard for Stella’s vibrant, fun personality and was thrilled by their mutual love of travel.

And Stella? She appreciated the sense of normalcy and steadiness which Adam brought to her previously topsy-turvy life.

Until one day, when their happy, normal life was shattered, in a matter of seconds.

In the middle of their idyllic Paris vacation, an explosion rocked the little café where they’d just eaten... and which Adam had run back to, after realizing enroute to their hotel that he’d left his sunglasses behind.

It wasn’t until Stella couldn’t reach him on his phone, though, that panic started to creep in. Had Adam been at the restaurant, or nearby, during the explosion? Her brain refused to believe it.

Hours later, Stella tried to comprehend how her husband could just be gone. No traces of him among the dead, or among the injured.

Days passed with no news for “The Paris Widow”, as the media called her... until one day, when the French investigator in charge of the case stopped by to drop (another) bombshell on her.

He explained that a police task force had been watching Adam for years... as someone they suspected of making millions of dollars dealing in stolen antiquities on the black market.

As much as Stella couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea her husband was dead, or even just missing, she definitely couldn’t believe he was... what, this criminal mastermind, hawking priceless, pilfered treasures to ruthless billionaire collectors??

Determined not only to find Adam—or at least find out what happened to him—Stella vowed to clear his name.

But soon she had to consider there might be at least some truth to police suspicions, when she realized she was being followed.

And drawing on her own checkered past—the one her husband knew nothing about—might well be the only way to survive.

I made a point to save The Paris Widow for my trip to Paris. (How appropriate, ne c’est pas?)

And what fun it was, reading about neighborhoods and landmarks I was seeing, firsthand! Belle leads the reader on a colorful path all around Paris, as Stella seeks answers.

The characters—especially Stella and Adam—are compelling and relatable, and the subject matter—the illegal acquiring and selling of rare, precious artifacts—a serious one, with far-reaching ramifications.

There’s some fine suspense at play, too, in the gradual revealing of who (is behind everything), what (really happened), why (actions were taken), and how (Stella is gonna get out alive).

The Paris Widow is a fast-paced thrill ride that I absolutely raced through.

Regardless of whether or not you’ve got a jaunt to The City of Lights planned, if you’re looking for a fast-paced read set in an historic, glamorous locale, you should seriously consider picking this one up.

~GlamKitty

A First-Timer's Impressions of París! (Or, "reviewing" the City of Lights as a Newbie)

2025-06-12T11:49:00.000-07:00

Bonjour!

(Passport stamp from Charles de Gaulle)

I’ve been back home from my first ever trip to Paris for a few days, but already, a little part of me wonders if it was all just a dream.

Was I really, truly there? Did I see those historic places, see those works of art, eat those foods?

[To be fair, the brutal head cold that sunk its viral little claws into me whilst across the Big Pond is probably to blame for any brain fog...]

Anyway, my photos (and American Express card) prove that I really, truly was there, and I have thoughts...

(Notre Dame- refurbs in progress)

First, Paris is a city of beige.

[Yes, I know, that doesn't sound great. 😅 Stay with me, here!]

It’s a city full of tall, old, beige buildings... a great many of which are decorated with beautiful wrought-iron balconies (some merely decorative, others usable) or stained glass, and often jazzed up with greenery and flowers.

So in this case, “beige” isn’t bad (bland, boring, or vanilla); rather, it’s a perfect background that allows the colorful ironwork and plants to shine, and which the sunlight dapples and brings to impressionistic life.

(Because you can't have a Paris post without this shot!)

Paris is also a city of cobblestones... so many cobblestones. (How very many there are actually surprised me.) Love that.

Luckily, I read up on Paris beforehand, so I knew what to expect.

High heels are a rarity in Paris... partly because it's a "walking city", where you can easily walk miles on any given day, but also because of all those cobblestones. Lower shoes--make that, comfy lower shoes--are de rigeur.

(Cobblestone street outside my hotel)

[Pro tip: Make sure your hotel room isn’t directly over a cobblestoned street, because unless you’re blessed with the ability to sleep the sleep of the dead, the sound of vehicles jolting over those rough stones all night WILL KEEP YOU UP ALL NIGHT.]

(Beautiful solo dinner at 9:30pm)

And then there are the people. While I never bought into the whole “French people are so rude” message we've had drilled into us [thanks to all those TV shows and movies, over the years], I was delighted to experience how very inaccurate it really is.

I found the French people much as people everywhere else I’ve been—if you’re friendly, leading with politeness, respect, and kindness—the French will unfailingly meet you with the very same. I received genuine smiles and warmth wherever I went. People were lovely to me.

[Pro tip: Please don't lead with a brash, “important-American-in-a-hurry” sort of vibe—not trying to fit in or follow appropriate etiquette. Such attitude will get you nowhere... nor should it.]

(Even bridges are works of art, in Paris)

Paris is FULL of art... everywhere, not just in its fabulous museums. Paintings, sculptures, street art, you name it. Art feels like a part of everyday life there... and I can't imagine a better way to live.

(One of my fave pieces of street art... see the reading girl? 💖)

Oh, and speaking of books? Paris is FULL of bookstores! Around each corner, down every little side street, in stalls on walkways. Rows upon rows of beautiful books. (It really made me wish I spoke/could read French. Goals, n'est ce pas?)

(Jardin du Luxembourg is stunning)

The city is also blessed with an abundance of gorgeous green spaces. You can find tree-lined streets in most of the arrondissements, and parks of all sizes, everywhere. Nature, like art, is simply a fact of life there.

Another thing I'm going to say is a "must"--certainly, for anyone who loves live music!--is to visit one of the city's many jazz clubs. The one I wound up going to--in an underground cavern--was packed [so much so that I'm absolutely positive no "maximum occupancy" building codes were being enforced!], and the vibe was happy, excited, and friendly.

(Jazz club in an underground cavern!)

Also--in a very "small world" kind of way--two of the musicians that night were actually from the States (one from Ohio, and the other from Tennessee), and I talked to a couple from Indiana. It all felt serendipitous... as does so much of the traveling I've done.

(Gorgeous patisseries are everywhere!)

There are so many things I’d love to explore in (and around) Paris. Things I didn’t get to do, because you can only cram so many things into one trip. (Same, if much of your limited time there also involves taking the plans or tastes of others—friends, family—into account.)

My biggest takeaways? There is so much magic to be found in Paris... and no doubt, all over France. For a first visit, I think it's best to try and get a broad overview—learning the culture, enjoying the pace, soaking in the history and personality of this sparkling city—while making mental special note of other things you really want to see and do, in future.

(Delighted by art at the Musee d'Orsay)

Because Paris? Definitely isn't a “one-and-done” kind of place.

Au revoir for now, París. Until I see you again...

~GlamKitty (or "Chaton Glamour", oui? 😽)

Parents Weekend, by Alex Finlay (Thriller REVIEW) -- Vanished from Campus

2025-05-12T14:16:00.000-07:00

The only thing worse, to a typical college freshman, than having their parents come for a visit, is having everyone’s parents on campus to visit.

In other words? The dreaded Parents Weekend... full of assorted activities for students and parents alike, beginning with the opening night dinner, when groups of parents and their kids mingle.

But for five families—who’ve traveled from all over the U.S. to see how their offspring are coping with freshman life—that dinner takes an unexpected turn... when not one of their kids shows up.

Is it just a matter of irresponsible teens, acting out? Perhaps some sort of fraternity/sorority hazing ritual they’re fulfilling? Or... something else??

That’s the million-dollar question on everyone’s mind in Alex Finlay’s latest thriller, Parents Weekend.

At small, private Santa Clara University, located on the coast of Northern California, freshmen are divided into small “pods” within their residence halls, to encourage friendships in the new environment.

One of those pods, whose members all live in Campisi Hall, has bonded well. Handsome Blane Roosevelt, from D.C., has embraced the California lifestyle. New Yorker Stella Maldonado oozes self-confidence and charm. Felix Goffman, the rare local, is a shy, considerate, scholarship kid. L.A.-native Libby Akana is a pleaser and overachiever. And Mark Wong, who reveals little of his background, is the prankster of the bunch.

The parents, of course, are vastly different—from their children, as well as from one another—and feeling awkward, without benefit of the kids that would’ve united them. So, they take a page out of (most) college-students’ handbooks... breaking the ice via trays of tequila shots, before dinner and drinks.

Annoyances at their absent offspring are—understandably—somewhat muted, for the rest of the evening.

When the next day dawns—and wanes—with nary one of the kids showing up... not calling, texting, or anything... the parents begin to worry, once more.

But, when word hits campus that another student—a grade or two ahead—has been discovered at a nearby beach, dead, well... that’s when panic sets in, hard.

It’s also when the students’ disappearances become a national media frenzy... and when newly-relocated FBI Special Agent Sarah Keller gets pulled from her nearby office onto the scene.

For Sarah, who has two grade-school-aged children of her own, there couldn’t be a more important—or more terrifying—case... and she’ll stop at nothing to try to bring those missing kids back to their families.

Parents Weekend is, at its core, your basic missing persons story. Finlay does some very clever things, though, to make it feel modern and fresh.

First, the five students come across as very real, very believable characters. He nails all of the angst, uncertainty, frustrations, temptations, and petty sniping so common among college freshmen.

He also gives us an intimate look at their lives and the family relationships (child-to-parent, and parent-to-parent), which is helpful in understanding why all of them do the things they do.

Probably the coolest thing, for me, that Finlay does lies in his structuring of the book. Each chapter either concerns the missing kids (going back and forth in time), or one of the sets of parents. (So, a chapter that’s going to focus on, say, Libby’s parents/family, is headed, “The Akanas”.)

It’s a device that makes it immediately clear who he’s focusing on for the next several pages—whose POV we’ll be getting—and it also gives us handy little brackets, to easily remember what we’ve already read about them.

Even better, he doesn’t just reserve this technique for the students’ families—he begins chapters dealing with Special Agent Sarah (and/or her family) with “The Kellers”, thus making her family life equally relevant to us, as well as to the case.

Of course, it’s crucial that the Big Reveal at book’s end seems “right”, given what we’ve been told and learned in all those previous pages... and happily, it does, with Finlay nailing the ending.

Parents Weekend was a treat to read... the action, confusion, and all of the suspicions kept me hooked from the first few pages.

If you’re looking for engaging, fast-paced suspense—in an unusual setting—this should definitely find its way onto your shortlist!

~GlamKitty

[My sincere thanks to St. Martin’s Press/Minotaur Books, for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Serial Killer Games, by Kate Posey (Thriller REVIEW) -- The Serial Killer You Didn't See Coming

2025-04-29T20:18:00.000-07:00

Imagine, if you will, a post-pandemic office sitch.

Employees given the all-clear, report-back-to-base instructions... meaning, anyone still wishing to be gainfully-employed should showing up at the big office building, posthaste, to do... well, Very Important Things.

Which Dolores de la Cruz—striking, enigmatic, and fearsome—does, in her oh-so-elite, can’t-touch-this way.

And that's all fine... until she happens into the same elevator at work as Jake Ripper... almost ridiculously-handsome, in his winsome, Clark Kent sorta way—and suddenly, both their worlds are turned upside-down (and quite possibly, inside-out).

Because whereas Dolores is the scarily-beautiful (and untouchable, lest we forget), powerful unknown... Jake is the younger, eager-to-please, temp-agency hire—just there for a brief time, filling in for someone-or-other—with no real skin in any particular game.

Except.

Dolores senses in Jake an “otherness”, with his stranger-danger leather gloves, ridiculously-good looks, and “oh, shucks” charm... the perfect persona, in other words, to embody the serial killer who’s been plaguing their city for the past few years.

As for Jake, well... he’s been temping for years, just looking (hoping? praying??) to run across someone interesting enough to capture his attention, his hopes, his... dreams.

Someone who could see through his boring, smiling persona... to the real him beneath the surface.

The dangerous him. The one who would do anything...

Like... get rid of a body(!), if the right person asked.

Oh, my. (And, oh, yes, please!)

It’s Kate Posey’s debut(!) novel, Serial Killer Games...

So, first off, let me say... I can’t say much about this book.

Nope, can’t do it. [Sorry, but to say much would be to say TOO much.]

So let me do it this way.

At first, it felt as though I were on the path... and once onboard, I was all in. Good to go.

But then... the author veered off down a trail I didn’t even see coming.

And we went hard. Fast. All in.

And, to my surprise, I was one-thousand times more hooked than I’d already been.

[Okay, IKR? Crazy. But that’s what happened!!]

Serial Killer Games seriously had me fully-believing and invested in one thing... then did a complete 180, leaving me struggling to catch up.

But once I did? Holy cow, what a ride..!

So. To say that Serial Killer Games surprised me, would be... an understatement. (Like, SRSLY.)

You already know (if you follow me) I’m not going to give you ANY spoilers.

But... let me say that this is absolutely a book that you need to stick with... because when the “flip” comes? The twist, that thing you didn’t see coming?

It’ll rock your world... but that’s only the start, because this one is like a curled ribbon that keeps unfurling and unwinding, twist after twist.

And where it lands? Well, that’s a real MOMENT, that is.

[If you’re thinking tears and sniffles and such, you’re not off-base. There were more than a few of those moments.]

Perhaps the best way to express the depth of my feels for this book is this: I put SO MANY bookmarks in parts I want to revisit (share, etc.), within it.

Because there were that many moments which touched my soul, my experience, my life.

Kate Posey has done something incredibly special, in her debut, Serial Killer Games. And me? I truly cannot wait to see what magic she next pulls out of her literary hat.

As for this one? Please, please give it a read. It's positively something special.

~GlamKitty

[My sincere thanks to Penguin/Random House, for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Breaking the Dark, by Lisa Jewell (A Jessica Jones Marvel Crime Novel REVIEW) -- Superhero Saving Herself

2025-04-18T14:24:00.000-07:00

There’s just something about superheroes.

Having inhuman powers. Fighting bad guys. Kicking lots of ass.

Sounds pretty awesome, right? (Except for... when it isn’t.)

To Jessica Jones, a perpetual outsider, being a “superhero”—a tarnished, been-to-hell-and-back one, at that—is anything but awesome.

And ever since a whole lot of crap went down in her life—culminating in her retirement from the whole superhero biz, and making everything that much less awesome—she’s been doing her level best to just... exist.

Not in any “super” kind of way.

But in an if-only-I-can-get-through-another-day way.

Until the day Amber Randall walks through the grimy door of Jessica’s dingy apartment-cum-private-eye-office-space... begging for help, as only a desperate parent can.

Jessica, wallowing in the pit of despair, fear, and self-loathing deep within her soul, is drawn to the other woman’s pain and fear, for it touches on feelings she knows too well. And to her own surprise, she softens enough to accept Mrs. Randall’s frantic pleas for her to take the case.

It’s the first book in a brand-new Marvel Crime series of original stories based on Marvel superheroes, Breaking the Dark (penned by bestselling author Lisa Jewell).

Amber, the socialite mother of fraternal twin teens—Lark and Fox—is out of her rarefied depths, regarding them.

After spending the summer in England with their father/her ex, the twins returned to Manhattan... different.

Not like cool-London-hipsters, or even posh-silver-spoon-kids different, but in a spent-the-summer-in-rural-England-with-oddballs kind of different.

But as bizarre as that is, what’s even more weird is how they’ve changed physically—gone are all signs of typical teens (pocky skin, lank hair, crooked teeth, awkward body movements), and in their place? Perfection.

Perfect skin. Perfect smiles. Perfect posture. Even perfect self-assuredness.

[If the Stepford Wives were young adults? They might resemble Lark and Fox Randall.]

Another worrisome peculiarity is their obsession with someone they met over there... a girl named Belle, whom they keep going on about.

Amber Randall knows these aren’t the same children she sent off to visit their father a few months earlier for the summer holidays.

These kids are...well, not right.

And Amber is convinced that only another person who is certifiably “different”—in other words, Jessica—stands a chance of getting to the bottom of what has changed them so drastically.

It’ll only take a trip to the merry old England countryside—Jessica’s first trip on an airplane, or out of the country, ever—to do so.

What could go wrong..??

First, you have to understand that this novel puts you smack dab in a time following the events of the TV series, Jessica Jones.

[So, in case you didn’t understand that this is a spinoff book from a TV show? You’d be wise going back and viewing the show, first, to get a full sense of the space these characters inhabit... or passing on this one, completely.]

If you have watched (and enjoyed) the TV series, though, Breaking the Dark is a natural and welcome continuation in the saga of a complex, fascinating character.

Jewell perfectly captures Jessica’s dark—really dark, at times—personality... as well as her deadpan, sarcastic humor. [She’s probably not everyone’s cup of tea—or shot of whiskey, being Jessica—but to me, she’s compelling.]

There’s also a nice amount of angst about, and quality time with, the superhero Jessica is closest to, Luke Cage (with whom she’s been in an on-again/off-again not-quite-relationship). They share some great scenes in the book, which fans of both series are sure to appreciate.

Breaking the Dark explores the post-trauma stress Jessica’s still trying to work through... and throws a couple additional surprises into the mix [no spoilers, here, folks], to further complicate matters.

When the various resolutions finally come, they feel earned; nothing is a given, or easy, in this book... which, again, is totally true to Jessica Jones.

If you’re already a fan of these characters, Breaking the Dark is a must-read.

On the other hand, if you haven’t encountered them before—but are willing to do a little deep-dive into their world (especially if you’re superhero-friendly)—you well might find something new to love.

~GlamKitty

[My sincere thanks to Hyperion Avenue, for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

Blood Ties, by Jo Nesbø (REVIEW) -- Suspenseful Take on If Cain and Abel were Norwegians...

2025-03-19T21:17:00.000-07:00

Everyone’s familiar with the saying, “blood is thicker than water”... but is it, really?

Norwegian suspense author Jo Nesbø puts that idea to the test in his latest tale, Blood Ties (giving big-time Cain-&-Abel energy).

One thing you can count on, living in a really small town? That everyone else knows your business.

Your family. Your history. Everything you ever did. Basically, all the dirt.

If your family’s respected (and respectable), you’ve got a lot to live up to... but your fellow townsfolk probably give you the benefit of the doubt if one of you does something to raise eyebrows.

But if your family’s always been a little bit “off”, well... the town doesn’t cut you as much slack.

Brothers Carl and Roy Opgard grew up in tiny Os, moved away for a spell, then made their ways back... and made good, in middle-age.

Carl manages the town’s biggest draw—the chic Os Spa and Hotel—and has grand plans for expansion (including the mansion he’s building for himself). Roy, meanwhile, owns a gas station and a few other business properties... and wants to build an amusement park is Os, with the largest wooden roller coaster in the world.

Turns out, though, that some of the backstory for how Carl and Roy achieved—and hope to continue to achieve—their successes is... murky. As in, not-at-all-entirely-above-board.

And the town sheriff, who’s long harbored a serious dislike for—and distrust of— both brothers, is dead set on using the latest technology to dig into a string of unsolved murders, disappearances, and otherwise-uncertain events... all of which he’s convinced can be laid at the feet of the brothers Opgard.

There couldn’t be a worse time for things to come to a head... when Roy has finally met someone who makes him really, really happy.

And, when both Roy and Carl have all those grand plans for the future of Os--ones that don't necessarily jive with each other's visions of the future, well. That's a problem.

Only one thing’s for sure: there are gonna be more bodies for the sheriff to wonder about...

So, first I’ve gotta say that it took me a minute to get into Blood Ties. (And I’ve read Nesbø before, so was familiar with his style.)

The biggest problem? I just didn’t connect with Roy. He’s... well, he’s quite a character... not that easy to identify with, or frankly, to even like. (He’s 100 times more likable than brother Carl, though, so at least that’s something...)

That kind of held true for most of the characters, actually.

I knew if I could hold on long enough to find my hook—the thing that grabs you and makes you care (about someone, or something)?— I’d be fine... and eventually it happened.

I got hooked... and needed to find out how everything all panned out.

And in the end, Blood Ties gave me the ending I “hoped” for (-ish)...

Final Thoughts...

Blood Ties is masterfully-written, offering an engrossing look at life in very-small-town Norway (which translates to plenty of other small-town places, as well), plus an interesting look at sibling rivalry.

But you need to have a really open mind about your “hero” character(s) with this one... because in Blood Ties? The “heroes” have lost a good 90-percent of their ideals and capes, before the story even starts...

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. ;)

~GlamKitty

[My sincere thanks to Knopf, Pantheon, and Vintage, for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]