The Literate Kitty

The Forty-Year Grudge, by Liza Tully (REVIEW) — A Weekend of Memories, Margaritas... and Unfinished Business

2026-06-09T07:41:15.741-07:00

When Olivia Blunt—assistant to the World’s Greatest Detective—spies a reunion invitation in boss Aubrey Merritt’s office mail, she’s ecstatic.

Surely her stern boss will jump at the chance to hang out—and maybe even let loose a little—with the sorority sisters she hasn’t seen in four decades... right?

Instead, the older woman promptly dashes Olivia’s hopes, declaring she most definitely does not plan to attend such annoying silliness.

Several days later—after a visit from the husband of an old sorority friend—Merritt has changed her tune, though... and expects Olivia to accompany her.

Why? Because the man’s wife—a retired Brigadier General who surely made many enemies during her career—is hosting the reunion at their New Mexico ranch... and has received a death threat.

Handwritten, on the back of one of the invitations.

And just like that, the unlikely detective and her (still frequently-disappointing) assistant are desert-bound, in Liza Tully’s follow-up to last year’s first book in the series—The World’s Greatest Detective and Her Just Okay Assistant [see review here]—with The Forty-Year Grudge.

The reunion—aside from that threat—starts off more or less what Olivia expected of a small gathering of women in their sixties.

Aside from the highly-decorated and imposing (but surprisingly jovial) General Battersea, the group also consists of an author, a renowned scientist, a headhunter, a former middle school science teacher, and a therapist (plus three husbands and one adult son).

Activities during the first day, followed by a noisy and gossipy dinner—with flowing sangria and margaritas—at night.

Oh, and one very heated argument, between two of the sorority sisters.

By the next morning? One of the seven sisters has been murdered.

And just like that, The World’s Greatest Detective is, unhappily, on a case she never wanted... to the consternation of the local sheriff.

With only her Just-Okay Assistant whom she can completely trust.

____________________________________________________________________________

The Forty-Year Grudge is a fun (and frequently hilarious) continuation in this clever series, and I loved every minute of it.

The situation is fantastic on so many levels. Taking the New Yorkers out of New York and plunking them in the middle of a snake-, scorpion-, (and heaven knows what else) infested desert. Getting a motley group of women who haven’t seen each other since college together... when the only thing that still connects them is long-ago memories.

And, of course, throwing a murder into the mix.

Did I see all the twists? Nope, not even close.

Does the mystery have layer upon layer? We’re talking a geologist’s dream, here.

Of course, the heart of this series will always be the relationship between the detective and her assistant. Their pairing still feels fresh, as a Jones-Generation Boomer continually rolls her eyes at the Gen Z assistant she’s taken on... but sometimes, also (metaphorically) gives her a little pat on the back.

(Just a quick one, mind you.)

I’ve only just finished The Forty-Year Grudge, and already I can’t wait for the next installment.
~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.]

The Chateau on Sunset, by Natasha Lester (REVIEW) — Jane Eyre Gets a Feminist Updating

2026-06-02T15:07:25.336-07:00

A newly-orphaned girl finds her happy life upended when she’s unceremoniously shipped off to an irritable aunt whom she’s never met.

Both are relieved when the young woman is old enough to get a job as governess to another unwanted girl... and when she winds up falling in love with her boss, it feels like a fairy tale come true.

The fairy tale takes a nasty turn, though, when she discovers that the man has been keeping a very big secret from her... and once again, she’s all alone.

And it’s there, in the void, that she finally finds herself.

Sound familiar?

(Hopefully that’s a rhetorical question, and you instantly recognized the plot of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre.)

But it’s also the basic premise of a clever reimagining of the Gothic classic, in Natasha Lester’s mesmerizing novel, The Chateau on Sunset.

When young Aria Jones finds herself abruptly dumped on the sidewalk outside of an imposing hotel on L.A.’s Sunset Boulevard in 1957—so foreign to her after the long flight from the only home she’d ever known, in New York—she’s flummoxed.

And walking into the lobby of the famous—and infamous—Chateau Marmont does little to allay her fears.

She’s suddenly surrounded by impossibly beautiful people—flirtatious starlets, all sparkling eyes and giggles... handsome young men, following the starlets... older men, exuding power and influence... and real, honest-to-goodness Hollywood stars straight from the big screen.

While she—small, insignificant, lonely, and plain Aria Jones—sticks out like a sore thumb.

But two of the roaming starlets—stunning Calliope and cheeky Flitter—take pity on the sad, shy girl... showing her the ropes in this strange, rarefied world that is the Marmont and befriending her.

They explain about her aunt, the reclusive actress who never leaves the grounds of the hotel. They caution her against some of the older men—agents and producers with an eye for unwary young women.

They also share some of the Chateau’s lore—crazy parties that last for days, epic deals that are done... and more than a few tragic endings.

The only real rule? Whatever happens at the Marmont, stays there. No photos, no leaking stories to the eager press.

And it’s within those secretive, sometimes-scary walls, that Aria makes a safe place for herself... and even figures out how to make enough money to leave, once she’s of legal age and no longer bound to her aunt.

Until, that is, the day the Marmont is sold to a new owner—rock star Theo Winchester—and everything changes.

Aria agrees to be his daughter Adele’s tutor, putting her constantly in his orbit... a place she never dreamed of being.

Nor could she ever have imagined she’d fall for the rock star... and he, for her.

But even as she watches her long-held dreams of freedom changing into something very different, Aria is forced to question what she really wants... and what she’s willing to forgive.

___________________________________________________________________________

The Chateau on Sunset both surprised and touched me, because I didn’t know what to expect.

The book alternates time periods each chapter—between 1957 and 1964—so it takes a minute, at the beginning, to understand where you are in Aria’s story.

Once that sinks in, though, her tale unfolds in a fascinating way, as you watch a shy young girl forging a place for herself, all on her own.

You see her making real friends... and soon maturing beyond her years, because of the things she has to deal with in her new home.

She watches as starlets go from hopeful ingenues to sad young women, having spent too much time on casting couches in a place where men enjoy all of the power... and none of the downsides to the Hollywood lifestyle.

(The Chateau on Sunset is a more-overtly feminist take on the classic story—which works beautifully in the time period and setting, grounding the modernized tale in a reality quite different than the early 1800s English moors of the original work.)

Although love interest Theo (the Mr. Rochester character from Brontë’s book) is well-drawn, it’s all of the various women who run throughout Lester’s story who truly matter.

Aria, her friends, her aunt, and numerous other female characters playing smaller parts, are all brought to vivid life... so that their words, their conversations—and their actions—always feel believable.

I also really enjoyed how the author was able to imbue genuine personality onto the Chateau Marmont. It’s such a deliciously-Gothic touch, showing how the building holds its treasure trove of secrets... and how it sighs from disappointments, or rumbles when a situation requires a bit of shaking up.

(I've been to Chateau Marmont, a handful of times... and can attest to the ever-present feeling of Secrets Hiding in the Walls and Behind the Drapes.)

As for the ending, when it finally arrives? It lands perfectly, feeling earned.

For all the women who were once little girls with hopes and dreams in their eyes—only to face disappointments, loss, and other hardships that had to be navigated—The Chateau on Sunset feels like a gift.

It gives readers all of the heartache and growing pains of Jane Eyre... but looks at them through a more contemporary lens.

This one’s going to stick with me for a long time—and will be one I’ll definitely revisit.
~GlamKitty

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

Beneath a Broken Sky, by Joshua Moehling (REVIEW) — After the Twister, the Danger is Just Beginning...

2026-05-25T10:33:51.403-07:00

There are many “constants” in life—things you can rely on to happen or to be true.

One is that whenever there’s a widespread emergency—courtesy of either man or Mother Nature—two types of people will show up.

The first are those there to help. Doesn’t matter if they’ve personally been affected or not, they want to do good.

The second type are those solely there to take advantage of a bad situation.

Both play their parts in Joshua Moehling’s latest mystery, Beneath a Broken Sky.

If you’ve ever had the terrible misfortune to be in a tornado—or even just to be near one—then you know.

You know the unbelievable sight of roofs blown off, outbuildings and lawn furniture sent pinwheeling who knows where... or whole buildings blown to smithereens.

You understand the devastation of downed power lines everywhere you want to go... and of decades’—or centuries’—old trees, shattered and broken beyond what your heart can comprehend.

When the small Minnesota town of Sandy Lake faces the aftermath of a brutal summer tornado, Detective Ben Packard is unprepared, to say the least.

He’d started getting used to the slower pace, after moving from Minneapolis... though he was still trying to find his way as a gay man in a traditional midwestern community.

And now? On top of his own roof having a massive gaping hole that he’s been too busy to repair, a local woman has just been found dead inside her home.

But not from any storm damage.

No, this mother of two—including a bullied gay son—was brutally murdered.

And Packard—already overworked by his lazy, incompetent, and homophobic nemesis of a boss—is also down his partner, Detective Thielen, still out on maternity leave.

Nor do the problems end there.

Because while his gut is telling him the deaths aren’t over, Packard must also face a ghost from his past—the sister of his dead ex—who’s suddenly shown up, looking for answers about her brother... but absolutely not the ones she finds.

And he’s forced to ask himself if the greater threats are coming from within the community, by folks whose lives have been turned upside down... or by one of the many outsiders now flooding the town, looking to help—or to take advantage of—all those poor people who don’t know right-side-up?

Beneath a Broken Sky is the second Ben Packard mystery I’ve read, and it’s official: I’m hooked on this character (and those around him).

As a white gay man—in an official, public-facing job, now living in a small community that still “has a problem with that”—Packard is decidedly conflicted.

He wants to love and be loved. But with an ex who died in the line of duty, a sometimes “thing” with another ex-colleague back in Minneapolis, and a budding attraction that he’s completely befuddled by in Sandy Lake, Packard is unsure of anything.

Things aren’t any easier on the job—again, because most of the Sandy Lake cops aren’t exactly bending over backwards to welcome him into their ranks.

There’s also the wrecked condition of his house, which he’s trying to deal with like so many others are.

And now the murder, in the middle of a blistering heat wave that makes rational thinking around all that smoke and ash nearly impossible?

Yeah. It’s A LOT.

Packard is constantly off-balance in Beneath a Broken Sky. He’s dealing with serious external issues... but the internal ones somehow feel harder to overcome.

And maybe that’s exactly how he, and maybe everyone else affected, should feel.

There were also many other things that grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go, though.

The sights and smells in the aftermath. Those hit hard. (I’ve been as near as a couple streets away from mini-twisters touching down... and only a few miles from ones that wiped out an entire town. You don’t forget that.)

And Moehling’s description in the first couple pages, of huge old trees being horrifically broken and felled by the storm? Made me weep, hard.

Beneath a Broken Sky itself is like the aftermath of a terrible storm... with occasional moments of calm before the next, worse news comes... leaving no one able to catch their breath.

It’s hard and painful and beautiful in all the ways your heart can feel... and already, I can hardly wait to meet up with Packard on the next bit of his journey.

~GlamKitty

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

Rachel West and the Fallen Starlet, by Emma Mills (REVIEW) — Big Dreams, Bigger Falls... and Finding Where You Belong

2026-05-18T06:00:09.675-07:00

“Welcome to the jungle, it gets worse here every day
You learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play
If you got hunger for what you see, you’ll take it eventually
You can have everything you want but you better not take it from me...”
~Guns N’ Roses

Everyone who moves to L.A. comes here for something.

Hoping to make it big... or to make a fresh start where nobody knows you.

Maybe just to get far away... from whatever was left behind.

Dreams and plans rarely go the way you’ve imagined, though.

Fame can take years—or forever remain out of reach. Fresh starts without any sort of network of family or friends can be incredibly lonely.

And as for what you might’ve been running from, well... who’s to say you won’t be running straight into something equally bad?

Still, even if how you end up doesn’t look how you’d hoped, it’s bound to be interesting. Surprising.

And sometimes, you might discover that what you’ve found is actually better than what you’d thought you wanted.

Rachel West and the Fallen Starlet, from Emma Mills, is that story.

It’s 2008, and St. Louis-native Rachel West—firmly clutching her shiny new journalism degree—had gotten a one-way ticket to the L.A. jungle after graduating college.

She finds work as a copyeditor for a celebrity gossip mag—not remotely glamorous or lucrative, but at least it’s a job.

Until fate intervenes one night after work when she’s out at a nightclub.

Touching up her makeup in the club’s restroom, she glances over to find willowy, unbelievably-gorgeous actress Molly Byrne next to her... and Rachel, as they engage in a little girl-chat while primping, offers to let the other woman borrow her lip gloss.

Her exorbitantly-spendy Yves Saint Laurent lip gloss (that was in no way in her budget, but which she had to buy, even if it meant eating canned soup for a month).

And just like that, an honest-to-goodness friendship that Rachel never in a million years would’ve seen coming, begins.

Molly—a former child star now known more for her wild partying—helps Rachel, giving her scoops and making introductions.

For a few months, it’s like a dream... suddenly getting to actually write juicy stories for the magazine, and living in the celebrity bubble with someone she genuinely likes.

But the dream shatters the day Molly is found dead in her lavish Malibu mansion.

The headlines scream that Molly OD’d, perhaps stressed over an upcoming movie role or devastated after a recent breakup.

Rachel refuses to believe it, though; she’d spent enough time with the actress to know she was completely clean.

Which means one thing: Molly must’ve been murdered.

As her frustration at the public—and police—acceptance of the “tragic-little-spoiled-girl-gone-wrong” story mounts, Rachel decides to do the only thing she can think of.

Investigate on her own.

She draws a motley band of eager “mystery solvers” to her side—her work buddy, a paparazzo who’d been Molly’s favorite, a few fellow residents in her apartment building, and even a good-looking detective (who happens to live in the neighborhood).

Each trusts Rachel’s instincts that something horrible had happened.

But the nearer Rachel and company edge toward the truth, something else becomes clear: whoever was behind the calculated murder of a famous celebrity... wouldn’t think twice about doing the same to a nearly-nobody like Rachel West.

Rachel West and the Fallen Starlet wasn’t at all what I thought it was going to be.

I assumed I’d enjoy it... which I did.

The blurb pointed toward a modern cozy feel, in an Only Murders in the Building (if set in L.A.) way, so I figured it would be humorous, clever, and a little snarky.

It delivers delightfully at that, too.

I also hoped there’d be a compelling story—with a multi-layered mystery (and a killer I didn’t see coming)—and that’s true, as well.

What I didn’t expect was the intense emotional pull... the surprising feeling that I really understood Rachel.

Not life endangerment. Or solving an actual murder mystery. But the feelings of loss... of need for change... of having to maintain a protective shell... and of trying to carve out a place in a completely new environment?

Those things hit hard.

So, while I fully expected to like Rachel West and the Fallen Starlet, what I didn’t see coming was how much I’d love it.

If you’re in the mood for something modern and a little glitzy, with some emotional meat on its bones—that just might stick with you for longer than “until that next favorite read comes along”?

This one deserves your attention.
~GlamKitty

[Note: The publisher is calling Rachel West and the Fallen Starlet the start of a new mystery series, which bodes well for more adventures with Rachel and her new crew. Color me happy about that! 😃]

[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 Anniversary, by Alex Finlay (REVIEW) — Terror That Returns Like Clockwork

2026-05-08T16:27:20.838-07:00

It might be hard to believe, but there was life before self-driving cars were an option.

Before AI and the internet gave us split-second access to all manner of information.

Before cell phones were practically glued to our hands.

So let’s go back to one such “before”—specifically, the early 1990s—for a few minutes.

Grunge was taking over the music scene, and the number of channels on cable TV was exploding.

And although we knew serial killers existed... for the most part, it was still in a “stuff-that-only-happens-somewhere-else” kind of way.

Thriller master Alex Finlay leads us into that world—a quite ordinary one... until a serial killer starts terrorizing everyone—with his latest, The Anniversary.

It could’ve been just another day in a small Nebraska town... except on this one day of the year—May 1, 1992—folks are a little jittery.

You see, terrible things have been happening on this particular day for a while, now.

Young women have gone missing... found alive (but traumatized), or later discovered as bodies that had been discarded like trash.

And each time, the May Day Killer vanishes afterward.

So the high school girls all know to be extra-careful on May 1—of course they do.

Still, high schoolers don’t always make wise decisions... and on this night, beautiful social butterfly Jules Delaney gets into a fight with her jock boyfriend at a party... and ends up walking home alone.

The May Day Killer had been waiting for just such an opportunity... and he takes it.

That same evening, a boy in her year—Quinn Riley, a nice, quiet boy she likes (but whose home life leaves him totally out of her league)—is arrested when a fight he tries to break up goes too far.

Neither Jules nor Quinn escapes that fateful night unscathed.

Jules is freed the next morning—but only after enduring a brutal attack.

As for Quinn, he’s sentenced to spend a year in a juvenile detention center.

A year passes, but things don’t improve by the next May 1.

Jules doesn’t want to keep reliving the worst night of her life, but can’t force it from her mind—wondering over and over why she was let go.

Quinn, meanwhile, gets released from juvie... but going home means more pain, when he learns that his mother’s death—during his detention—is still an unsolved murder case.

Each of them, separately, decides to leave their small town—and all of the devastating memories it holds—behind.

But over the next decade, as their lives randomly intersect, Jules and Quinn discover their pasts continue to haunt them... and find themselves inexorably drawn back to the one place where answers to all of their questions may be found.

On May 1, the anniversary of all the Bad Stuff.

Only this time, neither will be alone.

The Anniversary is a thriller that genuinely delivers, and I found myself reaching for it every time I had a few spare minutes.

I really love how Finlay employs the passage of time—every year, the exact same day.

Doing so doesn’t just work for the story; it acts as a sort of mirror we can imagine holding up to ourselves and our own lives.

Because the fact is, time—and the very act of living—change us... our experiences and attitudes, but also, to an extent, our memories and impressions of the past.

You can see that here, as the characters go from high schoolers to adults with professional careers. Their journeys—full of pain, heartbreak, regret, guilt, and loss—deliver emotional hits you can feel.

Of course no story works without believable characters, and Finlay ably brings Jules, Quinn, and everyone else they encounter to life. They all seem like real people, and their actions, thoughts, and choices hold up.

Another thing I really appreciate is that he creates a very accurate sense of place. If you’ve ever spent any time in small Midwestern towns, you’ll have no trouble picturing everything—and everyone—exactly.

The Anniversary is a twisty tale, with plotlines that seem to effortlessly intersect and then diverge, over the span of years. That structure is beautifully effective, because it feels like life actually happens.

I wouldn’t change a thing about The Anniversary—it’s a thriller that thrills, while staying grounded in a chilling reality.

Just do yourself a favor and be sure to set aside some quality reading time so you can truly appreciate this one, okay?

~GlamKitty

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

Reykjavik Fusion (TV Series REVIEW) — Where Fine Dining Meets Dirty Money

2026-05-03T07:04:12.016-07:00

Imagine for a moment that you’re a chef—brilliant, by all accounts—until one day, everything goes horribly wrong.

You lose your career, your family, and your reputation.

(Oh, and also your freedom, because you wind up in prison.)

The police think you burned down your own restaurant for an insurance scam—even though you insist you didn’t.

So you do your time, and it’s not great... but because this is Iceland, it’s not unbearable, either.

You make friends with other inmates—and get to impress them with your talent, because you’ve earned kitchen privileges.

And then you’re released... carrying the baggage of being an ex-con.

Reykjavik Fusion is the story of what happens next.
And that “next”? Should’ve come with a big ol’ warning sign.

When Jónas (played by Ólafur Darri Ólafsson) gets a job cooking at an elementary school, he considers himself lucky; no one else had shown any interest in hiring him.

But when parents learn the new cook making such tasty meals for their children did time, the school is forced to let him go.

It doesn’t matter that his “crime” (which he still denies) was white-collar; the fact is that no one wants to hire an ex-con, or go into business with one.

Except, that is, one of his shadier fellow inmates, Kristján—a construction mogul whose stint isn’t quite up... but who still has access to all of his outside connections.

The two strike a bargain: Kristján will provide a location, build it out, and be a silent partner... and Jónas will run the restaurant.

[You know that old saying, about how things that seem too good to be true..? Yeah, keep that in mind.]

When he goes to check out the location, Jónas finds it already occupied by Marý, a take-no-$hit woman (who loves leopard-prints and black leather pants) who works out of the office there.

She says the office is her domain, and the kitchen—and the rest of the restaurant—are his.

But “things happen” [here’s where the warning about things that seem too good to be true returns], and Marý finally breaks it to him that the real purpose of the restaurant is to serve as the front for Kristján’s money-laundering business.

And that? Is the kind of “business arrangement” it’s notoriously hard to extricate yourself from.

From the moment I first heard about it, Reykjavik Fusion was a “must-watch”.

Nordic Noir? Starring Ólafur Darri Ólafsson (whose work I loved in Trapped, Entrapped, La Palma, Severance, and Your Friends & Neighbors)? Set in a gorgeous restaurant in fascinating Reykjavík?

Um, yes, please.

And it really does hit that perfect Scandinavian note—of being just different enough, to both completely identify with each character and never be entirely sure what they’ll do next—all set against a city that feels starkly clean and modern, yet also sparse.

It also delivers in a big way on the foodie front. If you enjoy fine dining, you’ll be delighted every time the camera hovers lovingly over exquisite food preparation in the kitchen, or pans across the warm, glowing interior of the restaurant. Reykjavik Fusion is a gorgeous space, and one I’d definitely make a point to visit.

And, if you’ve ever worked in a restaurant—whether in the kitchen, front of house, or waiting tables—you’ll appreciate how accurately those dynamics are portrayed here.

Jónas, of course, carries the show, with a mostly-resigned demeanor. He isn’t happy with how anything is playing out, but he knows there really isn’t much he can do about it.

Marý (beautifully-played by Hera Hilmar) actually becomes the most fascinating character to me, because she’s such a wild card. (Yes, the leopard prints, black leather, and stilettos telegraph that general idea early on, but the fact remains—she’s been working for Kristján a lot longer than Jónas has, which means there are reasons... which we don’t know yet.)

There’s also the matter of Jónas’s family. His ex-wife, Katrín—a lawyer, now remarried (to Skúli, an annoying toad of a man)—is hesitant to agree to joint custody... even while his kids—a teenage daughter and pre-teen son—want nothing more than to have their father back in their lives.

And of course there are the fellow inmates Jónas forged friendships (“situationships”?) with... most notably, the business-savvy Kristján. As a viewer, I was left in little doubt how these men earned their prison time... but more to the point, I also fully understood how Jónas would readily see the good in them, over the bad.

Things come to a head—multiple heads, really—in Reykjavik Fusion, making it a thrill ride from beginning to end... with tension, melancholy, and a lingering sense of grim reality.

And, since all of those things end on cliffhangers? I can only hope there’s a season 2 already in the works.

If you’re a fan of Nordic Noir crime thrillers, you need to put this one on your list.
~GlamKitty

[Reykjavik Fusion is available to stream on MHz, which you can subscribe to on its own, or via Amazon Prime.]

Sanctuary, by James Cleary (REVIEW) — Inside a Fortress, Is the Greater Danger Outside... or Within?

2026-04-28T07:17:46.876-07:00

It’s the end of the world as we know it... but only the super-rich feel fine.

(Well, closer to fine, anyway.)

In an America that could exist in the not-so-distant future, every nightmare scenario has become reality.

The oceans have encroached on the coasts, submerging entire cities.

The fertile farmlands of the country’s midsection have completely dried up—no longer fit to produce either crops or livestock—leaving them nearly-unlivable dust bowls.

Unable to afford even the basics—ample food, safe housing, medicine, modern technology and equipment—and being refused government assistance, the general populace is stirring.

Angry. Hungry. Tired. Restless.

Millions of powder kegs set to ignite.

The government is well aware of the imminent danger—as are the multi-billionaires whose money runs all of the men in power.

And those wealthier-than-Croesus individuals? They’ve been planning for this eventual outcome a very long time... building luxury bunkers for themselves, to weather the storm.

James Cleary paints a vivid picture of how this might all play out in his chilling debut, Sanctuary.

When billionaire John Brandt receives word that all hell’s starting to break loose, his team has mere hours to act... frantically gathering the Brandt family (wife, teenage daughter—currently on a climbing trip in Central America—and young son) and support staff (mostly military), then getting them on private jets bound for his remote compound—Sanctuary—now.

No one really wants to go to the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska—even though they’ll hardly be roughing it, staying in a luxurious mansion with every amenity.

If danger gets too close? They’ll just move into the equally well-appointed underground bunker, which has enough provisions to last their number for several years.

The Brandts. Their cook/housekeeper and her adult daughter. A scientist. An engineer. A botanist. And the small-but-lethal group of ex-soldiers who monitor every inch of the property, 24/7.

All of them settle into their new “normal”—safe, pampered... and quietly suffocating inside their well-protected fortress.

What they don’t know is that a mere hundred miles to the east, a motley group of regular people—families, mostly, with meager belongings (and plenty of guns) crammed into several pickup trucks—is heading their way across the hot, dusty plains.

Hungry. Scared.

And aware of the bunker’s existence through one man, Tom Grady... who’d been part of Sanctuary’s huge construction crew, a few years earlier.

Grady knows how enormous the bunker is... and he also knows its weaknesses.

He knows there’s more than enough food and supplies to go around for whoever the billionaire has with him... and for the desperate neighbors accompanying Grady.

If Brandt invites them to stay—like a decent human would—they’ll all be happy to pitch in and do any work that needs doing, to keep everything running.

But if—as Grady fears likely—Brandt refuses to offer them hospitality and aid, well... that’s why they’re loaded for bear.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all.

Because when the lives of whole families are in peril, not just individuals?

Fighting with everything you’ve got becomes the only option.

Cleary has created a tale both timely and wrenching with Sanctuary.

Echoing so many things currently going horribly wrong in our world, he nudges them just a degree or two higher... to stunning—and frequently heartbreaking—effect.

His vision feels like a mere blink from where things stand today... and all the things we’ve been doing—and letting happen—for decades.

Beautifully written, Sanctuary is an easy read, as Cleary’s words flow easily and resonate strongly. At the same time, it’s also a painful one, with blow after emotional blow.

There are moments of quiet devastation—accompanied by an unholy cacophony of noise, yet somehow themselves devoid of sound... because the pain you feel while reading is all you really hear.

Every character is thoroughly drawn—nobody is one-dimensional, here—and when any of them chooses to do (or not do) something, you fully believe it. (That isn’t always easy to achieve when writing for this many characters—and so much action—but the author nails it.)

The physical worldbuilding is likewise spot-on. Whether the action is out in the gritty, dust-swirling outdoors, in the walls of the immaculate mansion, or within the confines of the immense underground bunker, it’s easy to picture everything... and to feel like you, too, are right there.

The best stories—no matter how fantastical or ordinary—work because they feel real.

Because they connect to common emotions, thoughts, and experiences that all of us understand.

Happiness. Pride. Hate. Fear. Greed. Inequality. Selfishness. Sadness. Loss.

Sanctuary holds up a mirror, showing what it looks like when common decency and respect for people and the world around us are the driving forces... and what can happen when they aren’t.

Whether you enjoy post-apocalyptic stories... psychological thrillers... sci-fi that’s gazing mere moments into the future... action-adventure tales... speculative fiction that’s incredibly well-written (or some combination of the above)... I’m giving James Cleary’s Sanctuary my hearty recommendation as a “must-read”.

~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.]

Cat On a Hot Tin Woof, by Spencer Quinn (REVIEW) — Prepare for Fur to Fly in This Dust-up in the Desert

2026-04-17T13:40:00.000-07:00

What do you get when you pair a flunked-out-of-K-9-school-(on-his-final-test, no less) dog with a former-military-guy-(with-plenty-of-skills)?

If you guessed “the most delightful detecting duo in the desert” (or maybe anywhere!), then you’re on the right track.

(But if not, no worries—until the latest entry in Spencer Quinn’s long-running “Chet & Bernie Mystery” series, Cat on a Hot Tin Woof, I’d never had the pleasure of spending time with these two, either.)

Things are going pretty well for both members of the Little Detective Agency.

Bernie is engaged to police sergeant Weatherly, and Chet, well... even if he’s still unsure about Weatherly’s dog, is always happy when Bernie’s happy.

They’ve also seen a recent uptick in business, after solving a highly-publicized case. (Great news for the treat jar!)

Unfortunately, much of that business is still divorce work, which Bernie, in particular, hates.

So, when a teenage girl and her mom contact them about finding a missing someone, both Bernie and Chet perk up.

There’s just one big catch—the missing someone is a cat... which Chet is very much not a fan of.

But, when Bernie learns that daughter Bitty and the absent Miss Kitty are a social media influencer powerhouse—so popular they’re earning enough to be the struggling family’s breadwinners—he can’t refuse.

Of course, even with Chet’s keen (albeit reluctant) nose, it’s none too easy to locate a vanished feline... especially not when it begins to look like Miss Kitty is the victim of a catnapping.

As the case spirals in myriad directions—from rednecks to a biker gang, cowgirls to schemers, a homeless hippie to one large, obstreperous pig (named Señor Piggy), and some murders—Bernie and Chet realize they have far more questions than answers on their hands.

With the clock ticking down before news of Miss Kitty’s absence becomes public knowledge—and the massive subscriber base and lucrative sponsorship deals dry up, leaving Bitty and her mom broke—it’s up to one very good boy to put aside his distaste for cats, track down the bad guys, and save the day.

Cat on a Hot Tin Woof is absolutely one of the best surprises I’ve run across in a good long while.

For starters, it’s narrated by a DOG.

You read that right. The entire story is written from Chet’s POV—which could’ve gone wrong in countless ways, but doesn’t.

Instead, it’s charming and clever... from Chet’s unwavering idolization of Bernie, to his acknowledged inability to count beyond two, to constantly thinking about food, to having the long-term memory of a gnat. Seeing the world through his canine eyes is adorable.

Quinn also totally nails the strong bond between man and His Very Goodest Boy (a sentiment Chet is completely on board with) sans sappiness. Bernie and Chet feel like partners and best friends... because they are.

And, since this is a mystery series, it’s important to note that the mystery itself is quite a good one. I didn’t see the end coming, but it made perfect sense when it did.

Still not sure how it’s taken me so long to find this series, but I’ll absolutely be spending more time with these two.

(Oh, and yes, I’m absolutely a cat person... but that doesn’t mean I don’t also like dogs. So, regardless of whether your wake-up call sounds more like “woof” or “meow”, chances are high that you’ll fall in love with this fun detective duo, too.)

~GlamKitty

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

This Weekend Doesn't End Well for Anyone, by Catherine Mack (REVIEW) — When a Murder Mystery Vacay Becomes a Murder Mystery Hell

2026-04-13T18:58:00.000-07:00

A popular murder mystery writer—with a penchant for finding herself involved in actual murders (and murder-adjacent situations)—accepts an invitation to teach at a weekend writing retreat.

It’s in the Bahamas. Sun, sand, ocean waves, and potent cocktails served with little umbrellas?Of course she’ll do it.

So what if that means giving pointers to an over-eager group of would-be writers?

It’s only three days. What could possibly go wrong?!

Turns out, a lot, in Catherine Mack’s wickedly-funny little romp, This Weekend Doesn’t End Well for Anyone.

Eleanor Dash is more than ready for a vacation—particularly since the last two she went on wound up turning into murder investigations... with her at the center.

(Okay, so her bestselling series involves murders... on vacations... so there’s also that.)

Regardless, she’d like to enjoy an actual vacation, for once, but this one doesn’t start out promisingly when the location turns out to be a small hotel that’s well past its prime.

At least she’s there with her boyfriend, Oliver (a considerably less-successful fellow writer); her younger-sister-slash-Girl-Friday, Harper; and her long-time editor, Vicki.

It’s some of the other attendees she’s less-thrilled about being in paradise with... Connor, her ex-lover (who—in a weird plot twist—became a mega-popular rom-com author); and Sandrine, an ex-best-friend-turned-bitter-rival.

Throw in a TikTok reviewer who trashed her last book and a Misery-worthy stalker, and... yeah, Eleanor finds herself regretting her life decisions, about now.

Oh... there’s also the matter of the body she and Oliver find when they walk into their heavy-on-the-shabby(-chic) Bridgerton-meets-the-islands room.

But hey, at least she won’t have writer’s block on subject matter for her next book... provided she lives long enough to write about it.

This Weekend Doesn’t End Well for Anyone is actually the third entry in Mack’s Eleanor Dash series, but the first one I’ve read, so I had a little catching up to do.

Fortunately, there’s ample backstory provided, courtesy of Eleanor’s first-person narrative (plus a lot of breaking-the-fourth-wall asides to the reader).

Her voice—witty, sarcastic, and wry—is fun, and those asides do a lot of heavy lifting. As the reader, I always knew exactly what was on her mind.

The other players—most of whom also appeared in prior books—are well-drawn (though it’s important to keep in mind we only see them from Eleanor’s perspective), and generally entertaining.

And, for the first three-fourths of the book, everything hums along nicely.

That dead body, everyone’s-suddenly-Miss-Marple-or-Sherlock-Homes, a gruff policeman, more mayhem, and so on, keep the tension—and humor—going.

Until, that is, things speed up so much that the last quarter stumbles a bit... getting bogged down in all the twists, wrong turns, red herrings, misunderstandings, come-to-Jesus moments, and... yeah, it’s A LOT.

But it’s only fair to add that Mack successfully reeled everything back in at the very end, so aside from a few chapters that felt like being thrown into the middle of a tropical storm, this one was definitely a fun read... by an author I’d happily read again.

If you enjoy cozy-adjacent mysteries, a self-aware protagonist (who has plenty of tea to spill to you), and picturesque(-ish) vacation settings, This Weekend Doesn’t End Well for Anyone would be a great addition to your summer reading list... whether you’re going on a beach vacay yourself, or just wish you were.

[It's coming out April 28, so put it on your list, pronto!]

~GlamKitty

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

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 a deep thought really 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 also 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 this one'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, stat, 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.]